After Logan died, I developed an intense desire for good, true friends, so I started praying for them. And I waited. (And waited some more.) A few years later, Taylor (and a few other truly wonderful women who I genuinely love) showed up. I don't know that Tay was who I had in mind when I uttered those words to God --after all, she was a 20-something nanny to a kid on Isaac's baseball team, which was a pretty far cry from my status as a nearly 40-year old stay-at-home mom and freelance writer-- but as is always the case, He knew what He was doing, and I grew to love her heart, her sense of humor, and her precocious wisdom over hours of coffee talk. With her relocation looming this weekend, we had our last coffee date this morning.
She'll only be an hour and a half or so away, but I'm not a fan of change, so it's really, really hard to see her go and to know that our get-togethers will probably be limited to weekends. Still, I'm endlessly thankful for her friendship and for all of the joy she brings to my life, and am so excited to see what's next for her.
Love you, Taylor, and I'll always be praying for you! (And, you know, stalking you via text. Because I am me and you are you. And it's how we roll.)
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