Here – sound is all around: above and below. The muted roar of traffic outside my apartment window is a constant. It’s like a wind that never subsides.
I cannot truly sleep here. This is not surprising.
I’m in the city that never sleeps.
The Type A Lady is in New York!
People are beautiful and polished here. I’m not. I’m awkward and always look…not quite finished.
My daughter and son-in-law are two of the beautiful people. I’m trying to clean up my act so I don’t create a scene as I spend time with them. This is fun!
We go to a ritzy restaurant. I glance at the elegant people around me (looking aloof and sparkly). I suddenly realize they are, in fact, God’s kids just like me.
It doesn’t matter where we are or what we look like, we’ve got a Dad who loves us.
I’m sitting next to a sheik lady wearing Louis Vuitton at the Lincoln Center. I’m wearing my Walmart dress. My neighbor sharing the music is truly the same as me. She needs God. So do I.
New York Philharmonic music lifts me up and above the cavernous concert hall, rimmed with sparkling lights. I look down at the vast crowd of God’s kids. We all need Him. We’re imperfect and incomplete and lonely at the core of our hearts.
Where can I flee from your spirit? Or where will I run from your presence? If I rise to heaven, there you are! …If I take wings with the dawn and settle down on the western horizon your hand will guide me there, too – Psalm 139: 7-10