On a night like tonight, I feel dimly nostalgic. But I don’t know what my mind, body, and soul are trying to remember. On a night like tonight, I feel every part of me trying hard to be reconciled with my Maker. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to recall.



So, we finally meet again. Just a few updates and tell-all anecdotes.

  • I’m working now! Hurray. I got a job working at a nephrology clinic as an administrative assistant. The pay is great and the hours…are okay. It takes a lot out of me because I have to wake up pretty early, and they’re a pretty busy clinic. Plus, I never really know what time I can leave because there is always work to do. C’est la vie. The good thing about waking up early is that Stan and I can leave the house together. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day (after I rub the sleep out of my eyes, drag my feet to the bathroom, and curse in front of the mirror). He pushes the snooze button once or twice, finally gets up to shut off the alarm, hops in the shower while I’m still drooling on my pillow, and then either squeezes the toes on my temperature-controlling-foot (the one I keep outside of the blanket to keep me cool) or kisses me until I wake up. Sometimes both. And sometimes I shower, and sometimes I don’t. Woohoo!
  • Fresh coffee in a tin travel mug. Wallet with Chase card so I can spend Stan’s money. Phone that never wipes clean of my face grease. Ten thousand keys on one keychain for every door in Chicago. My shrinking, pink brain. Yup. A few times a week, we carpool to work, which is another favorite part of my day. This is one of the streets we take:

Look famils? Dunanananana Batman! (Photo credit goes to Michael Perry from Chicageaux.)

  • I love how the sun peeks through the tracks in the morning. I love the look of the industrial metal beams and columns overlapping colorful brownstone buildings, set against a velvety white and pink sky. I love when the L Train thunders above me. I secretly race it in my head. I’m always faster. I’m like Batman. I’m beginning to love this city.
  • We’ve joined a community of believers here, and it couldn’t feel more divine. We had Micah 6 freshly Post-It-ed on our wall when we decided to look up the church’s website and vision statement — which is Micah 6. Stan and I looked at each other in quiet understanding. We couldn’t feel more at home with this silly family. Equip us to do justice in kindness and humility. Praise the Jesus.

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

  • Stan’s picking my ear as I type this. I have to go now.