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| Wait, no, a different Crete... |
Mandy
and I met up in a small town called Crete outside Chicago’s city limits. We got
lunch at a local diner followed by coffee at Starbucks, and we met up with her mom
for the new movie “Son of God” at AMC, and then the three of us joined her brother
and his wife for dinner at Texas Roadhouse. Saturday night culminated with
meeting some more of her friends at a local bar. Sunday we went to Faith Church
and enjoyed a sermon on ministering to individuals with developmental
disabilities (right up my alley! and in more than one way…), and she showed me
around her hometown and we went to the closing ceremonies of “Snowball,” a sort
of team-building outreach program of which Mandy used to be a part. Lunch was
at a breakfast joint called the Big Apple (and, dare I say it, it’s far better
than The Anchor), and after perusing the bookstore for a bit, we went on a wild
romp through Thorn Creek Nature Preserve. We warmed up at the nature center—a renovated
19th century church—and explored glaciations, fossils, and birds of
prey. We had dinner at one of her favorite Mexican restaurants with one of her
favorite people (other than me, of course), and I like the fact that I’ve met
almost all of her closest, dearest friends. Back at the place we were staying,
we watched the Oscars before bed. This morning we said our sad goodbyes, and
already I’m counting down the days (18!) until I get to see her again. Here are
a few of my favorite pictures from the weekend:
If
I may be honest (and it’s my blog, so I have that right), my girlfriend’s
beauty intensifies with each passing day as she lovingly mocks my pattern of
unobservance, my 80s lingo (though she blushes when she catches herself using
it), and my “many crudeness”: You haven’t
washed your jeans for a month?! But it’s what they do on the frontier! When
I hold her, I’m blown away by the depths of care, affection, and love that one
human being can have for another. The most amazing thing, though, is this: as
incredible as my love for her may be, it’s corrupted by my selfishness and sin,
and it’s a mere shadow—one could even go as far as to call it a parody—of God’s
brilliant, piercing love for me. How can I not be overwhelmed with gratitude?
How can I not experience this joy in the marrow of my bones? Our love is to be
a signpost to Christ’s love for his church, and meditating on that, I’m filled
with wonder, awe, and praise.
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