I hate voicemails. When I see the ancient cassette tape icon on my droid, the first emotion that bombards my irrational mind is dread. “When did they call? How long ago did they call? Who is that? Why did they leave a message? I wish I hadn’t missed that call, at least when they’re calling I know who it is. What do they want? Do I have to do something? I don’t want to do it.” It triggers my tendency toward procrastination; sometimes I leave it unheard for days until I can’t stand the terror that assaults me every time I look at my phone. I don’t know where the fear originated, but I am aware how ridiculous it is.
This morning, I woke up early and plucked my phone from its charger. There it was. Amidst the ap update icon and the “you’ve got mail” icon sat an antiquated recording tape that signalled doom to me. I put it off. Played with Atticus a bit and gathered some books that I need to read. “I’ll listen to it later” flashed across my mind, but hidden in the folds of fear a sensible voice, “Just listen to it, stupid. It might be important.”
Like ripping off a bandaid, I punched in all the buttons as fast as I could. The recording has started, and my heart races faster. I hear an unfamiliar masculine voice, but can’t make out the words. Confusion. Then I hear a voice that is very familiar. It is a voice that reminds me of care, love, friendship, a life lived for Christ. And I know what the call is about. “Hi Jenn! It’s Tia and John E.” Pause. John E., “We’re engaged!”
My friend is engaged. Memories of her pains and sorrows make this gift of God so much sweeter. God is so good; He is so gracious. With only my cat to witness the strange face I make and the water dripping from my eyes, I rejoice with my friend.
I love you, Tia~
i love you, jenn … so much.
so so much.