The Guanabana Gab
It's too easy to love a restaurant of this brilliance. And even easier to spend hours in the company of sweet people, immaculate tiki-huts, glistening bays, and twinkling waterfalls. Paradise might just be the best description. With a few of the baseball guys, we spent the day entertaining each other with fresh ideas, silly ramblings, and serious reflection. Prior to those hours, I hadn't considered the depth of conversation we'd reach, or the inquiry that might come from it. I just figured we'd hang out, enjoy a few drinks, talk about baseball, girls, and whatever else baseball players talk about. And though that's where it all started, that's certainly not where it ended. Small talk is mostly meaningless. It's a way for us to dodge the real and sometimes uncomfortable questions that stir our innermost being. At first, it's acceptable, but nothing strong was ever built on a flimsy foundation. And so, we took the plunge. All six of us. On the quest for something More. Something Higher. Something Meaningful. And while a couple found their comfort in "some sort of higher power," others, "martian aliens," a few of us got to share our love, faith, and service to the God we call Maker. Creator. Father. Friend. And it just felt good.
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