Meeting: Taste of Heaven

I just met an old friend for the first time, and my heart is aching with happiness and a certain sadness. We couldn’t stop smiling for the joy of it, and the tears were ever-present, there, just behind the smiles, because it was impossible to condense lifetimes into minutes. There was so much we wanted to say, to ask, to laugh, to cry about.

The heart knows a kindred spirit. We have shared our stories online—the joys, the disappointments, the sorrows, the blessings…all of it, blessings. And we know there is more to the story that cannot be shared online. There is more to the person than her words in a book or a blog post. Who are you really? I want to know you better.

I love it that some languages have two words for the verb to know. One is knowing about, and the other is knowing by relationship. Through blogging, you often feel that you know the blogger, somewhat, in both ways. And yet, God incarnated each of us into a body, with a voice, facial expressions, mannerisms and other unique physical characteristics. She’s not just a disembodied voice, or words on a paper, or a beautiful soul; it was a blessing beyond measure to meet my friend in the flesh. And to hug.

Today, we had minutes. Someday, we’ll have millennia.

My friend is famous. Thousands read her blog; millions will read her book. Hundreds of people write to her regularly, perhaps daily, and I can only call myself her friend, because I, too, have written to her, years ago, and she has written me back.

And she’s found time to read my ramblings here. She knows about our move to Wisconsin, our church, our theater adventures and our educational journeying. When we met, I didn’t have to remind her of who I was, my name or my story. She knew me. Knew me, and loved me, as a fellow traveler on a pilgrimage. A kindred spirit.

How many kindred spirits must write to her every day! And yet she knew me.

God knows me, in the same way. Billions pray to him every day, hundreds of thousands are born and die every day, and yet He knows me, knows my story, my every thought, the number of hairs on my head. He knows the best and the worst about me, and He delights in me even more than my friend and I delighted in meeting each other today. I, one insignificant woman, am known personally by the God of the universe.

Today I tasted that reality afresh.

Thank you, Ann.