Someday when God does away with borders and flags and what separates us, I think we’re going to wish we would have seen each other as equal. Loved like our lives depended on it. Maybe wished we would have opened up our spare rooms to prostitutes, or scooped one of the lonely kids off the floors of an orphanage, and welcomed them into the flow of our lives. Still living life, but adding in more to the flow of what already is.
Sometimes people have been asking me if I want one more ‘of my own.’ I always think that question is so strange. I try to help them out, by looking at the three of my own right here, and reminding them, “In a little while, I will have four of my own…four is kind of a lot.” Maybe that’s just what happens, no matter how many you have, people always ask if there will be more.
Loving and living for other people doesn’t make life easier, but it makes life richer. So much so I can’t describe it. Sometimes I try to think back on what we used to do with all our time, and the only answer I can think of is a whole bunch of sh*t—I kind of remember Bed Bath and Beyond somewhere in there.