From school to a coffee shop, toasted beagle with chocolate milk, just as before. Just as a child. Small talk swirled in a sort of blurred need for something much deeper. Time, give her time. (dear Jesus, why do you always make me wait?) Let her warm up, she ordered chocolate milk, not hot chocolate.
An ease of seated position, an honest sigh positioning us in a place of "could have been awkward" silence. I wait until no wait is left then drop some teenage bomb questions... not parent to child questions, but honest, do you write out loud kind of questions. Or ever converse with Jesus questions. Happy vs. Joy, temporal vs. eternal, expectations and letdown type questions. She fades, I stop, waiting for a re-surface. She's back and panicking takes another dive to avoid transparency.
Her insides bubbling to make me understand... voice hits lungs and noise breaks into words exhaling the chance of rejection, but firm in her resolve...
"I am happy, right now I am happy, that's all I care about."
She takes another dive, deeper this time. I back off, knowing she needs to recover. Lead the conversation to the surface as she follows. She's up... Friends, family then the core. She sees it, struggling at the surface to hear the truth, she hears it. She cannot go anywhere.
Then time. Always time. Time that keeps us prison here in this place. Prisoner to righteousness in this place. All that can be done is handing it back. As wisdom is spoken, whom receives is not up to me. I simply spoke. I let her go, tell her she is loved, as she diapers back into the world, back to school. Lunch hours are too short... as I write, I stand corrected... they are just the right amount of time for what He plans.
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