Saturday mornings are becoming my favorite.  Every other Saturday I meet up with my new friend, Kelly, and we walk around City Park.  She's about 50 years old and one of the neatest individuals I have met in awhile.  In her lifetime she has lived in a Mexican slum to learn about poverty, raised two daughters, taught pre-schoolers, moved around the United States, and shared a house with other families for 27 years.  Every time we meet, Kelly shares the coolest stories with such humility and gratitude like she's telling me the daily news headlines.  I am thankful for her willingness to be in my life and challenge me.  I believe sincerely that we grow best in community and become our best in the context of relationship.  This is why Jesus said to "make disciples" and "gather together," I think; He knew we were useless on our own and could have a much deeper, richer experience in the context of the greater experience.

And then on Saturdays like this one, I run around Cheesman Park then take a long walk back to my apartment.  I love watching my neighborhood full of it's idiosyncrasies, novelties, and mysterious; I am never certain of what I will encounter.  But as much as I will miss my neighborhood and it's excitement, uniqueness, trendiness, and culture-ness (my super cool word!), I am looking forward to a new home with my dear friend.  I miss living with her a lot, way more than I let on.  But now that it's getting closer, I can reveal my true feelings.  I am ready to live in a home again, not just a house.  A place filled with laughter (over things hilarious, inappropriate, ridiculous, and incredible... essentially everything).  A place filled with creativity.  A place filled with conversations about books, dreams, boys, and foreign lands.  A place filled with graceful but tough love.  And a place that's squirrel-free.

I'll trade this for that.  Two-and-three-quarters-months!