My copy of Jeff Goins's new book arrived this past week, and I finally started on it. The idea of those in-between moments inspired my own memories of the little times in life that make up, well, life.
It was just a few hours after the funeral. The grandfather of my best friend, Jessica, had passed away suddenly on my nineteenth birthday.
The house was full of people, visiting, reconnecting, dealing with the grief in their own way.
Jess and I went outside to the driveway in the quiet small town neighborhood. Teenagers, we climbed onto the trunk of her grandparents' aging Chevy Impala and leaned against the back windshield. We stared at the white clouds outlined by blue sky. We didn't say anything. Didn't need to. Just spent time in quiet communication, understanding the lack of need for chatter to fill the air.
The screen door banged and voices bubbled out. Jess's brother and two friends tromped across the drive. His girlfriend paused.
"What are y'all doing?"
I wasn't quite sure how to answer. My friend and I mumbled in agreement. "Um, just relaxing."
"Oh. Well, we're bored. Going to wash my car. Y'all want to come?"
"Uh, that's okay. Thanks."
She shrugged and the three climbed into her Volkswagen Bug, still laughing and chattering.
Quietness reigned again between us. Then we broke out in a spontaneous giggle.
Then quiet again like before, watching the clouds and letting the moment heal our bruised hearts.
Jeff Goins's book is already having an impact on my life. You can order a copy on Amazon: The In-Between: Embracing the Tension Between Now and the Next Big Thing [A Spiritual Memoir]