One I love

has been given an ominous health report.

He is the man who taught me it was safe to trust men. The one who made me think it might work out to be a wife. That maybe, just maybe, men other than my own Grandfather could be trusted.

His birthday was Friday. Many years we have spent it with him.

Today was Labor Day.

Events. Moments in time marked by an occassion. The calendar says it's a holiday ... and also gives a year stamp ... and when someone has heard the words "hopefully five years" in conjunction with their life ... I would think it would change your perspective of marking time.

In this precious circle of friendship we are believers ... we love Jesus ... we know He holds every single day in His hands ... we trust Him with those.

But in our humanness, we can not help but take note that one of the events of this time stamp given has been marked off to never return.

It screams of the need to make the most of every  moment.

I race to hug the ones I love with intent and purpose.

I eagerly say I love you when the conversation is finished ... not out of habit or fear of regret ... but out of want for there to be no question when the time comes that it can not be said.

I long to hear the voice of the ones I love ... the sound that calls me out of the darkness when I am lost.

I yearn to laugh until tears rinse the hurt from my heart.

I am anxious to supply arms that speak rest to a weary soul ... without caution or fear.