He called me last Monday afternoon ….
the Monday, after my splendid visit with the Sweet Nightingale,
her dear husband and their wonderful, rock-climbing room-mate.
“Hey! How are you?” began the conversation.
I replied with my everyday response, “I.am.lovely, how are you?”
My gut response is a swoon because my weekend was so … moving. Where would I start? The hike? Lunch by the water? God’s moving beauty and tears that dappled the entire weekend? Brian’s wonderful violin serenade? Homemade soup with greens and potatoes? Leaves …. music …. wide, blue skies?
I kept my response intentionally short because I know Stone is busy with his job and doesn’t often have time to chat. I try to keep our phone conversations short unless I’ve first asked “permission” …. by asking if he has time to talk. I don’t want to be long-winded and make him tire of me
so I kept my answer quite short and unenthusiastic … especially in contrast to the depth of the beauty and wonder of the visit.
I didn’t want to usurp his time so I let him move on to the point of his call.
I flipped the conversation around quickly and by asking about his weekend. I know he won’t be on the phone long and I want to hear his voice … to listen and soak him in … I am interested in his weekend. “How was YOUR weekend? Did you get a lot done?” I inquire.
I invited him to camp with me, my original plans for the weekend. I wanted to get away and be alone, but, honestly, being with him would have been even better. He declined. He chose the “logical, responsible” response to my invitation, having just spent the weekend at our house in Augusta the weekend before. He stayed home to take care of responsibilities … yard work, car maintenance and the like. He’s good like that … a very nice balance to my spur of the moment, spontaneity.
So we talked for just a bit … and then we were off the phone within about fifteen to twenty minutes …
As the afternoon wore on, it occurred to me …
he didn’t have a question about our next visit
or to ask me about something from the past.
He wasn’t calling to talk to me about the pumpkin carving stencils
that I emailed to him, per his request.
just to breathe the words
“So, tell me about your weekend ….”
That w.a.s the purpose of his call.
I can’t figure out why it’s such a big deal …
except that it’s been so very, very long
since a man cared
how I enjoyed my weekend.
He called to ask me about my weekend …..
He didn’t ask out of obligation.
He didn’t ask because he was first prompted.
He called to ask
because he was interested.
I’m humbled …
Again, I beg …
Lord, p.l.e.a.s.e take him away
if this is anything I have orchestrated …
I only want this gift …
this man as my friend …
if he is truly a gift from Him.