Familiar faces are fairer once acquainted with. Faces in my coffee shop ventures appear, respectively, on certain days of the week; i.e., if I go here or there, at such and such a time, I will likely see so and so. A familiar face once pierced the acquaintance film that separated a friendship.
Some matter of time ago, a man, to whom I am strongly bound today, introduced himself to me. His first appearances occurred while I habitually, excessively walked to Climb Nashville and Dose. Occasionally, as I was walking, I would find him walking; other times, I would find him bouldering at Climb Nashville. Another time, I found him walking to Dose, as I was; and we walked and talked on the way ‘til we purchased our coffee, indulged, and went our separate ways.
These happenstances transitioned into intentional plans. We would meet up maybe every other weekend; and through time and discourse, I came to understand this man’s thoughts.
“Contentment incarnate” best describes his overall disposition. Most content people are satisfied with what they have; this man is content with what he does not have. He is satisfied not with what he has, but with not having. He does not desire anything that is beyond him and only superficially desires what is not. My pragmatism deeply reverberates his detachment.
David and Jonathan supersede our relationship by only a few degrees. My unlikely friendship emulates the covenantal love hallmarking David and Jonathan’s:
“As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father’s house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt.”
To this day, the man’s name escapes me albeit the mirror he stands in every morning. For now, I will call him John.