"Your part is to yield to my creative work in you, neither resisting it nor trying to speed it up. Enjoy the tempo of a God-breathed life by letting me set the pace. Hold my hand in childlike trust, and the way before you will open up step by step."
(Sarah Young)

A new library card. Laughing so hard you cry. Running into the gas station for milk with a cross of ashes on your forehead. Photos being hung on the wall. A kitchen overflowing with bodies (it never fails ... though plenty of places to sit, everyone congregates in the kitchen). Homemade croutons made with fresh olive oil. Receiving the news that your first niece just entered the world. A tiny little parish filled on a Friday night. Borrowing three little munchkins, a minivan, a dog and cat, and playing house for a day. Linens and cozy blankets. A group of young adults cramming into an Irish pub on a bitter cold night for Guinness and Theology of the Body. Hiking a portion of the Appalachian Trail covered in pine trees and fresh snow. Using Target bags to waterproof the hiking shoes. A run through the tiny little town nestled in the hills - discovering rolling fields and mountains on the other side of the bluff. The windows rolled down just a crack ... hinting at spring.
Leaning into a God-breathed life.


Brooklyn Point of View

The day we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge was also the day we walked for twelve miles, ended up in Eataly twice in one day (first pizza and then gelato), watched the sun set behind the Statue of Liberty from the boardwalk, savored the lights slowing blinking to life in the city, discovered our subway stop closed so we walked until we found another, hungrily sat down in Greenwich Village for burgers and beer at the end of the day, stopped to people watch at the Washington Square Arch, eavesdropped on the group walking in front of us as we attempted to decipher their accent, and slowly walked all the way back by way of 5th Avenue.


NYC: Through the Parks

A couple years ago, I had a layover in JFK airport. I remember flying over NYC and watching as Central Park unfurled below me. It hurt to not be able to leave the airport and explore the city ... so as I caught the next plane and left the skyline behind, me I promised NYC that one day I'd be back.

And on a cloudy, damp January day, we stopped in Hell's Kitchen to pick up coffee for our walk. The small Turkish cafe was filled with dark-clad women ordering their vanilla lattes to go and men quietly working at their laptops. Once I had coffee in one hand, his hand in the other, we meandered through the streets, knowing we were closer as the volume of people began to increase. We turned a corner and horse-drawn carriages began trotting past us, bicycles were too many to count, and the sounds of little munchkins could be heard on the granite slide. We had found Central Park.

Walking through the park entrance, I couldn't decide which direction I wanted to go first. Given the countless hours I've spent watching Person of Interest on late Saturday nights with Dad, I had a bucket list of little nooks and crannies I wanted to find ... it was a continual deja-vu moment as we walked through familiar scenes and stopped to people watch. My conversation skills were practically non-existent ... there was so much to watch and take in. After a few hours of walking about, we found a park bench and watched a Saturday morning in Central Park take place.

A few short mornings later, we played the scene all over again but this time in Bryant Park. That morning was windy and cold ... our walk through the park resembled more of a quick march than a leisurely stroll! We briskly walked through the park, stopped to watch the ice-skaters braving the cold, and then ran for cover and something piping hot!

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