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This Valentine’s Day, I’m thinking about the love of my dearest friends.

Theirs is the kind of love that shows up — sometimes with trumpets of celebration, sometimes with armor ready to fight, sometimes in the balcony of my life cheering me on, and other times standing quietly in the doorway, holding what is unfolding — but always showing up.

What is Love, if not standing vigil to ones life with honor and sight and without condition.
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