I awoke only to find my lungs empty.

I spent some quality time yesterday with Rachel McCoy. A shadow of my life, I would presume. Starbucks and fast food, which just makes me laugh because I can remember Rachel at 5 years old, running through campus with two big pigtails, a pink backpack, and she would watch princess DVDs in the Christian Service office until 5pm. I cannot believe how she is grown into a little sophisticated 10 year old, with some wisdom and wit hidden up her sleeve.

Le Petit Prince has a quote, and in English it says, "Only children know what they want," which is so true. Through the eyes of a child, we have so much to learn. We, as adults, we dance around issues, we dance around our desires, while we drop blatant hints to those around us, in hopes that they catch our "under the table" linguistics. When we wind up without that thing that we desire, or the situation to come around like we'd secretly hope, our child-like anticipation turns into a slightly jaded grown up mystique, which then is more difficult to erase than the euphoric feeling we encounter when we get what we want.

We sat down at the table, and Rachel said, "Maybe after this, we could grab something?"

I assumed she meant to grab like, another table, or maybe something less tangible.

Rachel was hungry, and after she drank her latte, she wanted to eat something.

Along with feeling comfortable with her company, she really had no problem asking. I laughed a little, and of course, told her she could go wherever she wanted. This place ended up being Wendy's.

We were sitting at the table, and somehow she began talking about how she travels with her dad when he preaches, etc.

I asked her if she liked it, and all that, and of course with a big smile, she exclaimed how much she did, and how she loves to learn from her dad, etc. I never know, at what age, kids really start to grasp theological ideas that can sometimes be abstract when explained through life stories. Rachel and Brayden are the objects of Pastor Heath's messages a lot of the times, because they really do explain the Father's relationship with us.

Rachel looked at me and said, "All those stories really mean that if I had mud all over my face, or holes in my jeans, my dad would still look at me and say how beautiful I look. That's how God looks at us. He loves us no matter what."

I was done. I have heard that multiple times, but her strong belief in what she had just said brought me to a place right there at the table in Wendy's. To which, Rachel said, "Carla, don't cry. We're in public." Haha.