Smiles invite rest. A glowing face eliminates fear. Today, I sprawled the future contents of a do-it-yourself shag carpet across the floor of our recently reorganized living room. As my t-shirt weaving began, the rolling of rocks and gravel greeted my ears. Shortly thereafter in the door stood clean cut Carl, hair freshly buzzed. And a quiet smile.
"Carl!" Wes trumpeted - a righteous reunion. Blessedly meek and mumbly as usual, Carl returned a greeting. No sooner had Carl plopped down then had Vlad popped in the door with characteristic impromptu. Conversation commenced. A touch of small talk preceded Carl's underlying reason for his visit: he'd just returned from his wife. "She should be out in December." He couldn't hide the hope in his voice. Carl, to my knowledge, has sparsely been much of a prayer instigator, yet on this day he led the charge. "I'll start and one of you guys can finish," he eagerly delegated without a pause to decipher who would officially end the prayer. We joined hands and talked to God. Fewer prayers have I felt so privileged to be apart of.
