I do.
I miss Whitney’s gentle smile that fills me with peace. I miss her aura—the Jesus-child glow that comes from reveling in her Maker. I miss being filled with wonder whenever I talked to her. I miss exploring the old church with her, pretending we were detectives like little girls, and trying to find out what was in each room.
I miss Jake’s teasing that comes out of the blue and makes me crack up. I miss those funny looks we used to trade during tense situations that always made me smile on the inside. I miss always talking about how hungry we are and what kind of food we are craving. I miss laughing at his phobia of public toilets downtown.
I miss Taylor’s inquisitiveness, maddening though it may be at times. I miss being the “liberal” one of the group. I miss having someone right beside me who I know will have my back—no matter what part of town we are in. I miss praying with random people on the street with him. I miss arguing about which of us has a cooler family.
I miss the camaraderie. I miss inside jokes and secret smiles. I miss text messages from across the room. I miss talking side by side. I miss going out on the street. I miss hearing Jake tell me that he’s hungry. I miss hugs from Whitney. I miss laughing at stupid things with Taylor.
I miss my new “cousins”.
I hate the fact that they are so far away. I hate that I can’t see them. I hate that I don’t have their shoulders near by to cry on. I hate not being able to sit and hear Taylor worship from the depths of his heart. I hate not being able to see them face-to-face. I hate not seeing their expressions. I hate not being able to make Whitney smile from across the room. I hate not being able to feed them rice candy. I hate not seeing Jake randomly bust out gymnastic moves.
I love the way that they make me smile. I love the way they make me want to be like them. I love the way that they glow. I love the way they love. I love the way they gently remind me what life is really about. I love how they have more maturity and depth than a thousand other people I have met. I love how they are from Texas—a completely different culture—and yet, I still adore them. I love their cute accents that come out when they are tired. I love seeing Jesus in them. I love the way they poked fun at my own state and made me laugh at my tree-hugging ways. I love how they made me rethink some things in my life. I love the way God brought them into my life. I love that they are Scottish, just like me. I love that each of them possesses a delicate, fragile, beautiful heart that is not afraid to love. I love the way they aren’t afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves. I love the way they aren’t ashamed of their faith—their relationship with Christ. I love how they pray. I love the way they interact with each other. I love the way they take risks. I love how they are chill about life. I love how lovely they are. I love the poetry that is written in their eyes.
I just simply love them.
--Caitlin Muir, Team Journalist
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