That Was Me

I joined my extended family in Port Ludlow for Memorial Day weekend. On Sunday, I woke up without an alarm but early enough that the rest of the family was still sleeping. My brother's two-year-old golden retriever, Brinkley, greeted me as if we had been apart for ages, so I capitalized on her energy and took her for a run. As we ran, I considered whether or not I would try a local fellowship that morning. I don't think it's the end of the world to skip a Sunday, but I also really enjoy being a part of His greater family. In the end, Brinkley helped me decide. I wanted to walk past our driveway for an extended cool down, but she put her full body weight and stubborn will into making sure we turned towards the cabin.

So, thirty minutes later, I walked into a local fellowship with wet, freshly showered hair and an expectant attitude. Somewhere in my heart, I sensed He was going to meet me or show me something. The service was already in progress and the small room was full. Port Ludlow is an unofficial retirement community, and the fellowship population reflected that. I stood at the back for a few moments and a short, thin man in his seventies rushed over, shook my hand, and pulled me into a strong hug. With his cheek pressed against mine, he loudly whispered, "I'm Cecil. You're very welcome here." I told him my name, which he interpreted as "Breck."

Then another man was at my side. His name was Dean and he had a spot for me next to his wife, Paula, up front. With arms around my waist, the two men led me through the little maze of round tables and I settled in next to Paula.

During singing time, we sang a song about being safe in J's arms. I enjoyed the song, but was frustrated because I wished I could tangibly feel J's arms around me. When I told Him so, He brought Cecil and Dean to my mind and said, "That was me."

Most Amazing J, let me be You to others too. Thank You for Your tangible embrace through Your beloved men, Cecil and Dean.