The Stoop

I find myself sleeping on a blow up mattress hovering over the exact spot where he used to cut my hair. Where we used to share secrets and laugh about the little things. Where we spilled out our hearts and planned for the adventures of tomorrow. It was exactly in this spot where we continued to invest in each other week in and week out. We bore our truest selves and our hearts were bound together. In this very place my life was changed and set into motion. He believed in me and through his investment in my life I learned to believe in myself and knew that God was writing an unbelievable story. 

On the stoop outside his place we'd meet and watch the people pass by. I lived only a stones throw down the block so I literally passed by everyday for over a year and more often than not also stopped by. He was one of the first people I'd ever met who acted more in my interest than his own. He cared for me and beyond that for my family. He loved us and he sought to serve us. He was wise beyond his years and a true example of living life as it was intended. 

He always spoke of what life would be like when we went home and how right now, right here, we were learning how to live like we would for all of eternity. Speaking of what life would be like with dad and all the crazy adventures we would have. He didn't have sight only for this moment but for how this moment was drawing us into the eternal. His heart was a deep spring that hinted frequently at the love of our father and the mystical and incredible story he has been weaving throughout the centuries of time. 

Flash forward to this moment and the memories of joy seem painful. There is a sting so severe I cannot describe. I can hear his voice, remember his stories, hear his laugh, see his smile and recall his vulnerable heart but I know I can't be with him. He can't cut my hair in this very spot. He can't laugh with me and we can't swap stories from the day. We won't be together again until I'm called home and that reality is painful to a degree I cannot explain. Having spent the last few years pursuing a long distance friendship where we didn't talk nearly often enough I find myself in complete denial. Waiting anxiously for him to text me or leave me a voicemail and tell me he loves me. I'm desperate to hear his voice, not a recording but an actual conversation. I feel like I can't move on. As if I will be spending every morning anxiously scrolling through pictures, watching videos and reading through old emails. I feel a sadness that is hard to describe. 

Tomorrow my best friend, the one who knows me and loves me, will be celebrated for a life that is truly unparalleled. For a love that cannot be denied and for reminding so many people that their story was part of the biggest redemption story in all the world. He loved like no one I've ever encountered and I'll miss him until the day we're together again. I'm jealous that you're dancing your socks off and no doubt strumming a fancy guitar with our dad while I'm enduring this great loss but it's all the little ways you pointed me toward the big picture that remind me we will be together again and I must press on. I feel like John's description of life after Brent fell. But when we're together again we will laugh, and you can cut my hair, and we can sit together on the stoop and remember what an incredible story Jesus told and he'll be there too and we will laugh and rejoice and our worries will be no more. Thank you for pointing me home Kyle Flanner. You're the truest friend and our dad used you to shape my heart in a way that has caused a ripple effect in my life and so many others. I'm so far from perfect and I mess up seemingly a hundred times a day but I'm part of the greatest redemption story of all time and you taught me that truth. You revealed it to me in the day to day and modeled it in your approach to life. I'm forever grateful for you and will carry the lessons you taught me until we meet again. Until we're together and we can reminisce. I love you my dear friend. 

Morning nostalgia...

In the last few days I've spent more time outside moving than I have in a long time. It's weird when something very familiar becomes distant and then you begin to recondition or relearn how to do it. It's the last year of my twenties so I'm an obnoxious amount of nostalgic and oh what a ride it has been. 

My late teens were so destructive and setup the start of this last decade with hardship. At the time I thought it was the absolute best of times and I wanted it to go on forever. In my careless pursuit of self I indulged in too many things to list and trying to get my pain to subside I went also to food. If you knew me when I was twenty you know how bad that spiraled (go ahead a Facebook my oversized twin). 

Two months into my twentieth year of life I found out my girl friend of the time was expecting and we panicked. It was my biggest fear. How do you possibly know how to step up to something like that? It felt so impossible. Still I knew that there was no turning away from this level of responsibility. Thiele and I pressed in and decided we would let it shape us and let God mold us. 

If you have kids then you know the feeling you get when you first meet them. I can still see the look on Lyvi-Lou's face when she came barreling into our lives in the overnight hours just days before Christmas. She was perfect. You learn what unconditional love is when you have kids because it's not a love you choose. You learn how great Jesus love is for you and it reshapes your perspective. We were nineteen and twenty and we had no idea how this would work out. We came together and little by little we started living our lives differently. 

I experienced a healing I had never known. Alyvia saved me. She turned everything upside down but through her God rescued me from the destruction that was running rampant. Before she was six months we moved to Chicago and began to let our story unfold. I went from marathon eating McDonalds and binge drinking to running a marathon and having babies (lots of babies). 

Every year since I've learned something new but I continue to be amazed by the power of family. Now that the kids are getting older we're getting to experience a different kind of relationship and while it's testing it's incredible too! And so while I was out trying not to let my dad bod run rampant all of these feels came seeping through my heart. It's been an emotionally refreshing morning and it's not even 8am...

Paddle board Yoga

It's been a few days but I can't stop thinking about my first paddle board experience. On Sunday, Thiele and I ventured out with some friends to do paddle board yoga. Yes, paddle board yoga. First, we stopped at a little tiki bar on the lake and ate fried food with beer so clearly we thought everything through. When we arrived at the launch point our instructor asked if we had any water we wanted to bring. Appearing macho we said "water, I don't think we'll need any water". We were on a lake after all...

Our adventure started off as you'd expect, signing waivers and listening to safety instructions, boring! After the lecture finished we had to walk our board out into the lake (like a surfer) then climb aboard and get a bit offshore before standing up. Our course began in the largest open section of Lake Lanier so needless to say there was a touch of chop on the water. Having grown up around water and water sports I thought "ah it's relatively flat". I made it to the standing position proudly and pressed forward. 

I learned quickly that boaters find it quite funny to intentionally create waves for those of us on paddle boards. I did NOT survive the first round of boat waves but instead gracefully flew into the water and shot my board like a torpedo into my wife. Somehow she survived the collision. There was one other fall and then I began to get the feeling of stability. 

At this point we were on our way toward the two mile point where we would stop and do some yoga. Thiele and I are competitive, almost to a fault, so we found ourselves about 100 yards ahead of our pack. It was so good to get some alone time with her on the open water. Whenever we can get into nature alone I feel like it's a cleansing moment for our souls and the lake couldn't have been more inviting. The sun was tapering off into the western sky and the temperature had cooled down. It was just us, our boards, and the instigating boaters. It was perfect. 

After we all reached a little cove around the two mile mark the namaste stuff started to happen. I've done yoga but never on a floating board in the middle of a lake. I must say that everyone needs to experience it at least once in their lives. It's exceptional. There's always a struggle for balance in yoga but it's magnified on water. It's the one kind of yoga where I think laughing is encouraged. At one point I looked up to see my bride in full position but unaware that she had drifted and was about to go under a dock! For reasons such as these I believe laughing is permitted and because laughing also cleanses the soul. We all engaged the best we could in various poses then set back toward the park. 

On the way back I didn't want the trip to end so I slowly started letting myself fall toward the outskirts of the group. Looking in every direction and soaking it all in. It's amazing how quickly the human body can adjust to surroundings and how muscles learn different ways of functioning. When we reached the open water and the chop it didn't faze any of us. We had learned to stay standing even in the wake of speed boats. It was a feeling of victory and reminder of our ability to conquer challenges. Dad spoke to me and gently reminded me of the strength he has given each of us. 

We finally made it back having survived a four mile paddle and yoga! The sun had disappeared below the tree line and the cicadas were singing their tune. Thiele and I cruised home, laughing and recounting our last few hours. It was refreshing, uniting and healing. Another reminder that every day were being made new.