Yesterday at the football game, Richard said, "If I was dying or got cancer or something, and I got one wish, I would want to run out about ten yards, then cut right, and have Brett Favre throw me the ball as hard as he could, so I could see what it felt like, just one time. I hope he would break all my fingers."
Turns out, you can go home again...but it's weird. I had the sweet privilege of going to my ten-year high school reunion in Decatur, Alabama two weeks ago. It was fantastic. Have you ever gone back to a place with which you used to be intimate? It's hard. And strange. Things are very different, but at the same time nothing has changed. More than anything, YOU are changed, which makes everything look bigger, smaller, more beat up, less vivid, more colorful, newer, older... Overall, I'm very glad I went. It was very emotional--the time we spent in Alabama was pivotal for our family, for my faith. It was very difficult to move down there (especially half way through high school), but absolutely God's plan for us, and I am so thankful for what he had planned for us--for me--in the Deep South. A lot of those emotions came rushing back when I had lunch with my friends, and toured my old stomping grounds. I'm just so thankful that I was able to remember the place with joy and a new understanding, and especially with fondness and familiarity.