Two years ago Superbowl Sunday found me in an apartment in Kansas City filled mostly with strangers, seated on a loveseat next to the guy I liked in that season of life. Looking back I would have deemed that a failure if not for the fact that I loved the game.
Last year Superbowl Sunday found me in a living room filled with crazy, preservative filled young men; temporary play-mates due to the guy pulling my heart strings in THAT season. Looking back I would have called that a failure also, except that I enjoy watching half crazed men watching sports.
I can not for the life of me remember who played either game, or who won.
The first half of Superbowl Sunday 2011 found me having dinner with Rose, a comrade from KC who migrated to F-burg last year. We spoke of life & hope, resurrection, my sister in laws pregnancy, the joy of the return of Christ & when we will live in a city of all the Cultures that we love dwelling in perfect harmony. We ate food reminiscent of all the nameless pasta/grain dishes I ate in Turkey. It was glorious.
The second half of Superbowl Sunday 2011 finds me in my basement, mug in hand, buried in fantastic old-english style literature, devouring the books purchased yesterday. Next year, I will remember exactly what I did with myself on this day, who I was with & what book I read.
Then & now I call it a win.