I had coffee with a man tonight. We met earlier this week in the most random place. As it turns out, we have a ridiculous amount of friends in common, share more experiences with recovery and a past full of familiar people, places and things, than I knew possible. In those 90 minutes we shared more giggles, more honesty, more walking down memories lane than I have gotten with other men I have known for decades.
Two Fellowship Mates passing in the night. I didn’t struggle or push or dream or cry or sigh or hide my affection or my amusement that all of this was playing out with me in the thick of it, fully present. It was beautiful. And now, I am fairly certain, barring some tots intervention from my God, that I will ever see him again.
It was a gift, a reminder, dare I say a promise, from my God, who whispered “See, the connection you seek is possible. Trust that if it can happen once like this, even briefly, I will give it to you again, when I know you’re ready, for the lifetime of home you seek. The reason I’m doing this for you? Stick with me kid, I got your back. ‘Cause I made it and I take pride in my work.”