Some of the most meaningful conversations I have ever had
have taken place in the quiet of a parked car.
No disruptions like in a café. No distractions like a TV at home. No interruptions. And privacy.
It’s the perfect setting for honest, open conversations.
And we had one that night.
The frost on the windshield, the lights of the parking
lot reflecting off other cars, we talked.
Topic led to topic, and we rested on relationships, marriages,
sacrifices, and mistakes.
In the recesses of the human heart, there is a desire to
be known. To be known. To be known.
And we just sat.
And I talked.
I unveil myself in a multitude of ways. This blog.
Tweets. Status updates. But that night—to be heard, to be truly
heard, there’s a God’s love in that.
I spoke of fears I hadn’t had spoken out loud in a long
time. Remorse. Sadness.
Truth.
When a brother or a sister listens, when they hear your
deepest, darkest, ugliest sin—the very sin, the very darkness that overwhelms your
soul with your past mistakes—and when they don’t recoil, that is a glimpse into
not only the garden of God, but His very heart.
To be heard, God, during this stage in my life I pray
that You provide deep friendships where I can bring a heard to be encouraged,
where I can be open and release my deepest fears. I pray to be the type of friend that can
offer the same quiet, focused heart. You
did not give us burdens to bear alone, but brothers and sisters that we may not
be alone in our hurting. I pray for more
depth to come, and more to be received.
You are a wonderful, loving Father and my spirit is linked in You through
it all.
The heartfelt counsel of a friend
is as sweet as perfume and incense (Proverbs 27:9).
We love because he first loved us
(1 John 4:19).
