I collect endings like others collect souvenirs.
Take a list of my favorite books, and I will point you to passages within their pages that give them that status with me. Ask me what my favorite movies are, and I will share my favorite scenes. The same holds for plays, television shows, sometimes even music. The beginnings and the middles, the characters and plots and movements — all race through my head when given the chance. Endings, though — endings, I collect.
I come from a family full of stories.
Books, certainly, but also road trips, slips of tongue, song writing, witty comebacks, restaurant fiascos, prayer-sharing, secret recipes, inside jokes, legendary sunburns, concert attendances, safety-dad-teasing, loudly singing, church-going (and skipping and planning and planting and loving), tears flowing, laughter running stories.
We like to laugh, my family and I.
The sermon this morning got me thinking — unsurprisingly, given my love for it — about Harry Potter. Specifically, about the seventh book and the mysterious note Dumbledore left on Harry’s snitch: I open at the close.
That, to me, is what it means to live by faith. Continue reading