If you haven't heard that song you are missing out.
I've been nostalgic for approximately 2.5 hours now...ever since I saw The Rocketboys play at Common Grounds, I haven't been able to stop thinking about the past. It started out as I thought back to several different times I have seen them in Abilene...some of the best times. Downtown, a sense of mystique combined with an old-fashioned feeling of danger, like one of those classic black and white movies where men wore fedoras and women always dressed up. Dark, but lit by citylight, and noise coming from the small coffee shop. Walking by and smelling the smoke of the Abilenean scene, and feeling the warmth of a tiny, intimate, christmas light lit room. Glancing back at the waterfall, the smoke shop, and the fire escapes before hearing it: Delayed guitar notes, playing a simple 2-3-4 progression. So simple, yet so moving...moving to a putt putt course from the 70's...enjoying the music almost as much as the new friendships and company that accompanies them. Leaving the front line totem pole view to converse on artificial green. Feeling things changing...opening up - maturing. Finishing the night at starbucks, a simple conversation in the warm summer air.
I could follow that trail all the way through lakes and driveways, unites and beltways, but I don't think that ended well...no, I don't remember it being fun at all.
Mornings, distraught beyond belief, forcing myself to go to school in grief, and breaking down. Another song for another time, this time coming from what an outsider would guess is 49 years old. This time, I cried.
And following the trail further I find myself back again in time, crying to yet another song...this one more heavenly focused, as I remember that He loves us. A small town, and an even smaller building...the cramped yet cozy worship nights that happened there, and the awful allure of people from another school and place. I remember once wishing on a star, yes, my star it was. And as the river flowed, with it came a flood of bad choices, indiscretion, and mistakes.
Yet I find that in hindsight, some of these memories appear bright. They appear beautiful, as if the Creator God who intended them from the beginning knew it would happen and purposefully painted a masterpiece out of them. Yes, my failures turn out for my good. But still, I digress...
Moving now in the present to my pictures to see what else comes up, I find that much of my life has been spent in attempts at being someone...someone I was not at the time, but slowly have become in a beautiful process. I see more pictures that bring to mind more painful situations...dresses and suits and a gazebo...calculators with segmented art and a lonely gorgeous drive west...the feeling that I was made for more than what I have been saying to the person I last messaged...guilt but forgiveness. Shame but covered with new honor.
I stand redeemed.