📖 Sacred Testimony XXXVII
“The Guy from Houston”
offered in remembrance of what we knew was true, and what we forgot for a time
Someone once said,
“It’s better to start a relationship at the kitchen table
than in the bedroom.”
And I believed that.
Because I lived it.
James and I—
we started at the table.
With coffee.
With laughter.
With friendship.
And it was the best relationship I ever had.
But after that…
I forgot.
Or maybe I just longed for too much.
Maybe I got tired of waiting for the table.
So, the relationships that followed
started not in conversation,
but in craving.
Not in knowing,
but in needing.
Then came him.
He was from Houston.
And it was like our eyes met across the room.
There was something instant, electric,
pulling me in before either of us said a word.
He came over.
We started hanging out.
No slow unfolding.
No table.
Just the room,
the pull,
the ache.
It wasn’t my first relationship in recovery.
It wasn’t sacred.
But it was part of the story.
🌿 And now I see:
Just because you know what love should look like
doesn’t mean you always choose it.
Sometimes the ache gets louder than the wisdom.
Sometimes the body leads before the heart can speak.
And sometimes,
we say yes to being wanted
because we’ve forgotten we’re already worthy.
But even those choices—
even the ones that skipped the kitchen table—
taught me something.
And that, too, is holy.
✨ A Blessing for the Ones Who Forgot the Table
May you be forgiven
for every time you reached for the bed
when what you truly longed for
was to be known.
May he be blessed—
not as the one who stayed,
but as the one who reminded you
what your soul was still hungry for.
May the ache you carried
be honored as proof
that your heart was still alive—
still seeking,
still hoping,
still willing to try.
And may you always remember:
You are not defined by the place where it began,
but by the truth you carry now.
The table still waits for you.
So does the one who will meet you there.
