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It’s dark when I see the snowflakes illuminated in the headlights as Justin pulls into my mother’s driveway. I hate to admit it, but I’ve been alternatively staring out my bedroom window and then coming downstairs to make sure the porch lights are on for the past hour and a half.
I’m all set to go. There’s nothing in me that wants to stay a moment longer than I have to, but I’ve already offered Justin a short rest here. He’s been driving all evening. The coffee’s ready, even though I don’t know if he likes his with sugar and cream, neither of which has been found in my mother’s kitchen for at least the past decade and a half.
I hear his car door slam shut, and I freeze halfway down the stairs. Should I wait for him to knock? And leave him out in the cold? I could go and open the door right away, but then he’d know I was waiting for him.
Of course I’d be waiting for him.
But do I want him to know that? Or will that make me look desperate?
I feel more flustered than I did on the night of my senior prom, mostly because I went to my senior prom with my boyfriend of five years who also happened to be my closest friend.
Justin is ... What is Justin? I guess that’s what this little experiment in Seattle is meant to determine, isn’t it?
I’ve felt a little unsettled after leaving Grandma Lucy. That prayer she prayed, it was full of so much conviction and faith. I could almost feel the strength of her words infusing inspiration and healing and courage all at once into my body. It’s what I’m supposed to do next that I’m still trying to figure out. When you go to a youth group retreat or campout and come back on a spiritual high, pastors and youth leaders are always telling you that if you don’t want that feeling to go away, all you’ve got to do is pray regularly and spend more time in God’s Word. But you can do those things, even do them religiously, and eventually the feeling starts to wane no matter what. What does that mean? Is it time to sign up for another retreat? Another mountaintop experience? It’s not like I can drive from Seattle all the way back to Orchard Grove and sit in Grandma Lucy’s greenhouse every time I need a little spiritual pick me up. Justin goes to church, but I don’t know anything about it. I don’t know if it’s stoic and stuffy like Orchard Grove or wild and charismatic like Valley Tabernacle or somewhere in between.
But I know something happened this evening. Something so ethereal and intangible that it feels sacrilegious to even try to express it in words. An awakening in my soul, which I realize now has been asleep for a very long time. Maybe my entire life. But what now? Where am I supposed to go from here? If God wants me to put my full trust in him for every single aspect of my life, why doesn’t he let me feel his presence like this more often? Why does it feel like something I just have to get lucky and try to snatch when it comes my way since it could be years or decades before the next opportunity knocks on my door?
Speaking of knocking, that’s Justin now. He’s here. No more standing frozen halfway down the steps.
I hurry downstairs, open the door, and invite him in.