I know it isn't much

This weekend was a lesson in love languages and balance.

We all have a way that we tell people that we love them. Some of us use words, some of us give gifts, or buy dinner, some of us do things that we know the other person doesn't want to do so they don't have to, some of us require cuddle time. Remarkably, my family is about diverse in love languages as possible. That leads to a lot of hurt feelings and a lot of resentment.

This weekend though we somehow found a way to balance all of that and get a long. We got things done and that was a good feeling.

Song of the day: This Christmas I'm Yours : This Is Energy.

a breath of fresh air to fill your lungs

It's no small secret that I've been over analyzing just about everything I've ever said and or done in the last few weeks. I've been super cranky, had terrible headaches, and general grumpies. 

Last minute I heard about a This Is Energy show tonight at the Hard Rock. Lucky it was free... and it was a Battle of The Bands... something about it felt like everything I needed tonight and it felt a little full circle. The first time I saw Adam (and Britton) perform was at a battle of the bands in a tiny little dive downtown before I was old enough to drive. So I yonked my mom's car and headed out when I would normally be in bed.

I've never been so glad for a lack of sleep. If Dave's guitar playing wasn't enough to lift my mood, the kiss off "If You Ever Make a Come Back" and "Let the World Know" were enough to let my frustration rise to the surface and steam away. By the time the guys launched in to "Just Breathe" I was willing to listen to a simple message that I've been all to willing to ignore as of late. I find it funny that I'm willing to listen to it now when Adam's singing it not to me, but I'm not willing to listen when Andrea's all but shoving it down my throat. There is something cathartic about a drum line pounding through your chest, a guitar playing your heart strings and a bass rolling through your ears. There's something healing about listening to a performance so passionate you have to close your eyes to keep from crying.

I had to ask Adam if he was still attending the church that we shared for that brief year and a half, or even the church that left me with scars and threw me into the church were we first met. He's not and somehow that's more refreshing than I can even explain. But it leaves me with one thought. God works all things for good. He was willing to turn one hellish experience into an chance to know someone who would play a role in encouraging me in my darkest hours. Even if all it led to was a reminder to breathe a decade later, God's got a plan we just have to follow it.