Here we go. We’ll go to sleep tonight, or lie awake, until it’s late enough in the morning to take to the road. I’ve left at 2:00 am before. I wonder what it’ll be this time.
You and I are about to get really close this summer.
I literally don’t want to do a thing without you. I want to experience the fullness of what that can look like. I want to find the precipices of my reality and then jump off the cliff with you.
You told me this morning, as I drove to the coffee shop, that I could be your first A.D. Like I was when we filmed at the border, running around and filming whatever the director said to. I like that. It feels better than calling myself the director. I smiled so big - it really, literally is you.
Everything is slowing down. My senses are about to unravel, the bare edges of my nerve endings exposed. I feel it approaching. It’s the feeling that came when I saw the cliffs last September, and my face flooded with tears. I am about to drink deeply of a river that will wash my innermost being.
I love that Robbie is handling my schedule. I love that my finances are submitted to your math. I love that I’ll only roll the camera when you ask me to. You’re about to bathe me in slowness. It’s not a vacation; it’s the kingdom of heaven. All the more as the Day draws near.
Thank you that my imagination is beginning to shift. I sat on the sofa by lamplight last night and edited, and my heart was with you. You’re in the car with Brayden and Nehemiah while they drive around town in the white Jeep, blasting music. You’re waking up with Kelsey Aylard beneath beams of sunlight coming in through that narrow window. You’re at the dinner table with Dave, Amber, and Tyler, who has been staying in the basement. You’re in the other room playing toy soldiers with the kids. You’re sitting on the windowsill with Joy while she spends an evening alone, strangely restful, aware of heaven’s songs surfacing around her ankles.
You’re pulling me into this atmosphere of abiding. As we drive up the pass, through towering evergreens and white slivers of cloud, I will remember who I am. I am the one who stands tall with you, holding the torch of beauty. And you’re going to expand. Expand my lungs within me. Expand your spirit’s breath. Expand the breadth of your wings as you carry me.
You said before that it would not be unlike a silent movie. Show me what you can do with ninety minutes of beholding true intimacy.