“I like your shirt, man.” These words are tossed across the Chicago Union Station food court by an older punk guy with his long salt and pepper beard tied partway down with a rubber band. The receiver of the compliment, a middle aged man wearing an Alice in Wonderland shirt  that says “we’re all mad here” says “Cool, thanks,” before continuing his scouting for a bigger table in the food court. Unknown to the man giving the compliment, Alice in Wonderland shirt stops after the man is gone and looks after him with a grin on his face. He goes to the table where presumably his wife and kids are sitting on luggage and I hear him relaying the words. They talk and smile and move on with their day and I pick up my book, “Miss Buncle Married” and continue reading. But I keep thinking of that little exchange and how impressed I am that Salt and Pepper Beard liked the shirt and complimented him without ever breaking stride and now the Alice man has had a good smile over it and I’ve been privileged to witness this. In the meantime I mull it over in my mind and can’t place the last time I was walking and randomly complimented someone which is weird because I feel like I’m a fairly observant person and notice smiles and happiness and clothes and discouragement on people. Why am I not speaking up and potentially making someone’s day better?

A couple weeks ago a friend from our coffee group messaged me about our infertility journey and wished me courage and I cannot tell you what that meant to me to just be acknowledged that yes, I feel very alone lots of the time but also, I love my friends kids and being with them and yes, I probably seem brave but that’s not always how it is. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks mentally and I have reread that message from her multiple times for courage but mostly to remind myself to speak up and acknowledge the courage of the people in my life. I think I know some of the bravest people that you could know. I think my Mom and Dillon&Madison are so brave that they have ‘come forth like gold’ regardless of the life circumstances given to them. And my friends that are bravely getting up most days and continuing every day in spite of finances and marriage and infertility and unkind in-laws and dealing with trauma from their childhoods. I’m so proud of them. So if I can show support and love by a simple “I like your shirt” moment, I want to do that. My favorite take-away from a conversation around a Gardenview supper table- why can’t we take care of and love the people in our congregations better? The people surrounding me in the Church are a part of the reason I love it and part of why I feel like I can get to Heaven. Morgan and I can’t do it alone. We need the people around us to lean on and have good conversations with about Christian life or coffee or crops (if we have to:)

I drove a little U-Haul with Mom’s stuff in it out to her teacher house in Gardenview last Saturday. Then I spent a week with her and it was just what I needed. We spent a day with Max&Rose and Jordan’s out in western KS over last weekend. Moms class invented a country and had an open house Friday night so I was excited to be there for that. I’m hoping she’ll do a write up with directions on it because it’s such a cool idea for any class to do and then I can share it here. Of course it was good to catch up and have coffee with friends. I’m on the train home, currently sitting in Chicago Union Station people-watching. Excited to be going home to Morgan and frantic packing and bus cleaning and lots of supper plans. We leave for Enderby in a month. Bittersweet. And, I like your shirt, friend. Xo chey