We all belong to a brother and sisterhood of our youth. Those glory-filled days of intense love lived in bodies always fierce. These intensities burned white hot but quickly cooled by the energy required in the demands of growing up. The passions of the love of brotherhood replaced by obligations, deadlines, and inboxes. However, in grace, God allows those memories to be gently held in those youthfully built strongholds of our hearts. I had a great homecoming yesterday, those ancient days of youthful passions once again became the flesh and blood of those that lived them with me. A reunion of sorts, small, with many not present and some passed on but where the young sweetness of hearts aflame with life could be rekindled in shared remembering. It was a life event for me, strongly foundational, a returning to my roots of sorts, where a misspent youth is placed aside for the joy of love as only youths can have, in hearts that have grown kindly old, sweet with wisdom, and understanding from experience. To the brother and sisterhood, may we all be this to those—till we meet again—Those were the days my friends!
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