I dreamt that the power went out between my house and theirs, our Lebanese-neighbor friends who were always having fun parties outside (that we liked to crash) and who didn't create any division between our yard and theirs.
Our basement flooded when I was a teenager and I sat on the front porch with the girls next door. We ate popcorn and watched the street fill up with water, wondering if we should get a raft while our dads tried to work the generator.
I sent a message to the girls today, younger than me by years but somehow married already (which I won't comment on), to tell them of the dream.
It's been awhile since we've talked, but I didn't bat an eye to send them a silly text. Somehow we'll always be neighbor friends.
These stories and dreams remind me that love and intimacy aren't as far away as we think but we -- I -- like to make them so.
It's easy to shut our doors. It's hard to do front porch living with people that matter, to let them know us enough that years later you can still send them a text about a dream you had about your dads rushing around to save your house from a flood.
My challenge to you: let intimacy look different today.
P.S. I'm loving this song right now.
I choose to go the route of friendships on these here link-ups (big surprise).
But this is the month of all kinds of love and in commercialized America, they like to throw it in your face. Do you have love, they seem to ask?
Hear the refrain ringing in your ears as you go about the day, the week, the month, the year....
youareloved youareloved youareloved youareloved youareloved