Farewell Apartment 104

Joel and I have lived in apartment 104 for the past three and half years. And in ten days we'll be moving out. For good. We're going to live in a friend's house for the next six months while they're out of the country. After that, we'll (hopefully) be moving into the house that will be our home for a good long time.

While both of us have grown tired of apartment living, saying farewell to apartment 104 is a little bittersweet for me. Because it wasn't just a ground level, one-bedroom apartment. It was our first place as a married couple, where Joel and I started the journey of learning what it means to be man and wife.

It's where we had a lot of firsts: our first argument as a married couple. Our first Christmas, complete with a smuggled-in real tree. Our first Easter, where I cooked my first ham and filled the apartment with smoke.

We did a lot of celebrating - sometimes just the two of us, sometimes having friends and family over for birthdays, holidays, or just because. And when it was necessary, we grieved. Grieved for death, broken hearts, lost jobs, and life's frustrations.

I'm not going to miss the stained carpet, the crappy dishwasher, or the insensitive neighbor who played the guitar in the middle of the night. But for all it's flaws and shortcomings, it was a good home to us.

So thanks, apartment 104. And farewell.

A Full Stomach and a Warm Heart

My office is right across from the breakroom, which drove my predecessor crazy, but I love it. Especially today.

We had a Christmas potluck today at work. So I had a front row seat to the transformation of our ordinary corporate breakroom to a cozy and delightful holiday table.

It started with bright red and green tablecloths, followed by a careful and strategic arrangement of centerpieces, plates and utinsels followed by food dishes. After that, each dish was uncovered. It was like watching presents being unwrapped, complete with exclamations of joy and surprise as the content of each container was reveiled. To top it off, there was the savory aromas of honey ham and warm turkey floating through the air.

After filling up our plates, we made our way to the various conference rooms, which had also been transformed from their normal corporate look. Sitting around the table, we shared holiday stories and lots of laughter. Everyone had prepared their favorite or their best recipe, so we all went back for seconds - or thirds - to sample all the new and delicious food.

It was almost like a get-together with your extended family. A little bit awkward, a little bit chaotic, but also hilarious and enjoyable. I think we all went back to our offices with a full stomach and a warm heart.

When All Seems Lost...

When all seems lost...

...There are devoted friends who share outrageous stories and laugh too loudly with you, drawing the attention of everyone else in the Chinese restaurant. And who listen and nod sympathetically when you're down and need to pour out your sorrows.

...There is a loving husband who rubs your back and gives you yet another hug, because the hug 10 minutes ago wasn't enough. And who makes you a warm mug of tea, so you have something to sooth your insides and momentarily forget your heart is hurting.

...There is a God who hears your prayers, who comforts you when you cry in the night. And who gives you strength and determination in the morning to face the day.

My Favorite New Prayer

"Dear Jesus:

Thank you for this beautiful day. Thank you for my family, and my friends. Thank you for my baby dinosaur. And thank you for the GREAT time I could have with Aunt Leslie.

A-men."

-Sam, age 4

A Lesson in Daily-ness

I participate in a weekly Bible study. We're studying the life of Moses, and are currently in Exodus.

Last week one of the passages we read was about how God fed the Israelites while they were wandering in the desert. Monday through Saturday, he provided manna (bread) in the morning and quail (meat) in the evening. They were supposed to gather only what they needed for that day. Except Saturday; then they gathered enough for that day and Sunday.

It was a daily lesson in trusting God. They had to trust him to take care of their most basic need, food. Our teacher asked us to think about this lesson of daily-ness. Do I really believe that he will take care of my daily needs? And the needs of those around me?

The future can be a scary thing. But rather than get caught up in trying to plan for what's down the road, maybe I need to gather just what I need for today. And trust God to provide again tomorrow.

Practical Shoes

I've noticed that most of the women in my office wear practical shoes. Smart, fairly plain, with little to no heel. Usually they're black- sometimes brown or blue- to coordinate with countless suits and other "business professional" attire our dress code requires.

I wouldn't say my work footwear is ridiculous, but it definately leans more to the "unpractical" side. I'm not as adventurous as my colleague, who has some brightly colored shoes including a shiny patent leather yellow pair. I own mostly black and brown shoes, but they nearly all have some unique design and at least a 2 inch heel. The closest to a practical work shoe in my closet is a pair of black textured "flats" with a half inch heel, which ironically have given me more blisters than any pair of heels ever has.

There have been a few occassions where I wish I was a practical shoe person. It would certainly make the frequent trips between our building and the other locations easier. And rain, puddles or dewy grass wouldn't be a problem.

But then I look down at my cute, somewhat unpractical high-heel shoes and can't bring myself to trade them in for sensible flats.

Hope

Hope. I think hope is one of God's greatest gifts. It's a funny, unpredictable and yet incredibly powerful thing. Sometimes you're hope-less and sometimes hope-full, and maybe other times somewhere inbetween.

I almost titled this blog "Hope is a thing with feathers" from another poem by Emily Dickinson, because I tend to be a hope-ful kind of person and I think Emily perfectly captured the essence of hope.

May hope's sweet tune be with you today.

Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
-Emily Dickinson