Thanks for the laugh, Facebook

I'm still a little weirded out by Facebook. I've been on there since November 2007, and I still find myself *rolling my eyes* over it nearly every day, if not several times a day. I blame you, Facebook, but it's not really your fault is it?
We've all been happily addicted to Facebook for years now.
Every time something devastating happens, we request prayer via Facebook.
When something happy happens, we announce it with a smiley face via Facebook.
Facebook is the new medium of finding out a baby's gender, a new pregnancy, a death in the family and we're seriously OK with telling 600 of our "closest" friends we're out of town for the week at Disney World. (Why don't we just hand burglars a key already?)
Here's my secret: Whenever I see something really weird that makes me laugh on Facebook, I text my best friend, and we giggle about the silliness. We pretty much have most of the same friends, so if you do something stupid, chances are we both saw it. And we're laughing about it.
Here's more information for you: I won't post any of my secrets via Facebook. I'm not going to tell you about my health issues, or those involving my family. I have this great thing called an iPhone. I use it to call and text my family and close friends when important things happen in my life. They have the right to know first.
And you probably already know this, but I'm the world's biggest smart-aleck. I want Facebook for entertainment only. I don't want to see teddy bear inspiration memes, or crazy cat memes I've seen 100 times over the past six years. I don't want you to share some fattening recipe a Pampered Chef consultant tricked you into sharing. And, I don't care if you're Republican, Democrat, gay, anti-gun or packing heat. You're my friend. That's all that matters to me, regardless of your beliefs.
And because you're my friend, I love to rejoice in your happy moments. I will cry when you're hurt. I love to see updates on your children. I love to see them dressed pretty. I adore it when you make me laugh with silly stories or crazy photos, and I'm moved to tears by your blog posts.
That's why I continue a relationship with Facebook.
As aggravating as it is sometimes, I love how it keeps me connected.
I wish we could go back to the days where we sat on the front porch, sipping iced tea and sharing our special moments face to face. I hope, in a way, we can create a beautiful balance between Facebook and those private moments with friends. I don't want us to lose the art of conversation to a keyboard or a smart phone.
I pride myself on the limits I put into my affair with Facebook because I prefer my closest relationships to take place in-person where you don't need to use an emoji to express emotion and your friend already knows when you're laughing out loud. That's what relationships need to be, with just a slight enhancement from Facebook.

A feet-sweeping chance meeting

How my love looked when we first met.

Five years ago, I was running late for the council meeting I had to cover in Mitchell for work. Alex, not even 2 years old, was sick. I sent a text message to a friend, who I knew was attending the meeting, and asked her to save me a seat.

I slipped in just a few minutes before the start time, settled in my seat and looked around the room.

I spotted a young man sitting a few rows behind me to the right. Sporting a baseball cap, he was a good-looking guy, but I didn’t have the slightest clue who he was.

After the meeting, he approached me and introduced himself:

Henry Shetler. Former Amish guy. Many mutual friends. Cool.

We exchanged phone numbers, relating to work he’d be tackling for the Persimmon Festival, and went on our merry ways.

Fortunately, our merry way crossed and our lives meshed.

On Monday, Feb. 4, I’ll be covering yet another council meeting, five years to the day we first met. On Friday, Feb. 8, we’ll have dinner again, just like we did five years before.

But these days, we have much to celebrate — our beautiful family, chief among those, and the loving, respectful relationship that makes all of it possible.

When I work Monday night, likely I’ll sit back with a slight grin on my face and look forward to heading home to the man who has continued to sweep me off my feet since our chance meeting five years ago.

And thank the wonderful God who allowed our paths to cross.