Scrapbooks...

I love me a road trip in the springtime. Everything smells fresh and clean and the wind can flow through your hair as you speed down the highway admiring the bluebonnets. But it isn't spring. It is still considered summer here in Texas and it is hot. H...O...T hot.
So a road trip wasn't really on my to-do list this weekend but since my mom's birthday is coming up soon, we decided to take advantage of the days off to go see her. (yeah for mom!!! b-day post coming soon!!!)
Another purpose for the trip was to sort through boxes of my crap that my parents don't feel like storing any longer for me.
They figure I have my own garage. I can store my own stuff.
Ugh. Close minded thinking!
hee hee.
So, I went through photo albums and scrapbooks, from eighth grade all the way to college. At first, I was ready to pitch them all... put them all in the trash. But no one would let me.
"One day," they said, "you will want that stuff, you will want your memories." I don't think so, but I kept them anyway.
I looked through those books a bit and laughed and remembered great times. I remembered crappy times and got angry all over again.
Now I know why I don't scrapbook any more.

I looked at those books and thought about the people in my life who had come and gone. The pages of the scrapbooks filled with friends who took up my heart those days.
How silly I was and how stupid.

I went to church with my mom on Sunday. They are in the middle of a minister search so for now, they do with "fill ins" from around the area. I knew this visiting minister well. We had staffed Cursillo together. We had talked about Austin College (go roos!) and had laughed. I was excited to see him there, but knowing that he is an older man and knows lots and lots of people, I didn't figure he would remember me.
The service began and it was order as usual... a little singing here, a little praying there. Then it happened. Jack, the minister got up and before he read the scripture, he stopped and scanned the room... he looked directly at me and I smiled. He got bright red and smiled a huge smile back. Then, this 70+ age old man did the funniest thing. He sheepishly waved at me. Like the first graders do to me in the hall when they want to say hello but don't want to get in trouble by their teacher. It was cute. I sheepishly waved back and he began the reading of the scripture.

At the passing of the peace though, I was surprised to see him right at my side to give me a big hug. He didn't know my name, I knew, but he knew my face. I was a friendly face among the strangers.
I realized as soon as he looked at me that I had been placed into his emotional/mental scrapbook. I was sure glad to have been placed there!

I used to think my scrapbook was full...overflowing with friends, people I know who have shaped my life and have an imprint into my future. I didn't think there were any more pages available. I didn't think there was room in my heart for any more love. Boy was I wrong.
So, to my mom and dad, my BT and Annie, the CoF, Ging and Miles man...boy genius, the Knit Wits, the Westminster Youth Connection, Cursillistas, my Renewal Group, and my newly added, Pirates of Penance... thanks for the ride.
Thanks for filling my scrapbook even more. For you, I am truly thankful.