Last night, we sat at our table and had food, wine and a long talk with an old friend. He's one of the few that have stayed with us for the last 15 years or so. Partly because Granada is such a transitory town, we have had so many come and go, but some still live here and have come and gone as well

We laughed, cried, told stories, got all shocked, and sat together late into the night. At one point my friend says, can I have a glass and water, and as they drank, they said, OMGosh why is this so good?

I, for my kidney, double filter my water, and it does make it taste good, but I'm so used to it, I had forgotten. As I sipped again, I thought, wow, it is good.

And I remember the old words that Jesus stood and said about being the bread of life and the water that makes us never thirst again.

Last week I went to a local wine festival, and sat with another old friend and drank and laughed and cried together. For the last taste of wine, we went to one of the stands, and after having drunk all night, I thought it would taste good.

It didn't.

It was awful. I tried another one, and it was just slightly less awful. Obviously, I had ruined my taste buds with such good tasting wine, that one that was just medicore, even in a slightly tipsy state, didn't taste good.

And I remember the moment when Jesus took plain old water, and turned it into such good wine, they were so shocked. It wasn't just wine, it was the kind that you served first before you ruined your taste buds and got a little wine happy and it all tasted the same like happened to us at Thanksgiving this year. Opening that last bottle, I reached for a good one, and a friend, a wine expert looked at me and said, NO, you won't enjoy it. Go find your table wine to stay buzzed on.

A while back, Peter writes me and says, Jamie, you don't know how amazing the Good News is, in that everywhere I go, it looks a little different, but its the Good news for wherever you are. Whether it be Costa Rica, the US, Spain, or anywhere else, its still the Good news.

So in Spain, the former breadbasket of Rome, a cradle of good wine and cheese, the Good news looks like this.

A party celebrating 25 years of marriage with food and wine and jamon serrano and cheese and paella and happiness. Half my guests where on second and third relationships, but they saw How God has sustained us, our marriage, and how in staying married, we are salt and light to their relationships.

A late dinner with food and wine and water that satisfies a thirst my friend didn't know he had. And when we speak of broken relationships, we express the hope that someday, reconcilliation will come.

Walking through villages and homes and sitting with my clients that in the end we talk about everything you aren't supposed to talk about. Religion, sex, drugs, politics and more, and they see what I believe and what sustains me is a hope in a God that sees and loves us all.

Or the young man that wants to put his best foot forward, and asks Andrew for a photo session and for 3 hours they talk about love and relationships while traispsing through the streets of Granada.

And when the Pope dies, even the most apostate Catholic is ready to talk about his life of love, compassion and mercy, even to the least of these, and how He was a real believer.

That's what it looks like. And those moments of touching eternity, of something bigger than we know and understand, and know that God loves all of us and cares for us all, this is the Good news.

Don't know what it all means? It's ok, I don't know what it all means. But, every day in which I get to experience it, I think I know it a little more, and it's depth, width, length and height is so incomprehensible, I will take all of my existence to being to know what it all means. Join me, it's never boring and always constantly amazing.