I would say that my friends know that I can't choose my favorite morning- view- from- my-window photo, but since they no longer know I'm still breathing, I will say the other personalities appreciate it. We are all in agreement: my little apartment was indeed a gift from God. One of us truly believes that Jesus Himself led us here, afterall, the prayers were numerous, the pros and cons list my dad taught me about was made and studied, visits to every Annapolis home option occured, and in the end this photo is the reason we are here.
We have multitudes of nieces and nephews, all are witty, intelligent, successful, and a very entertaining part of my life thanks to Facebook. One said: Where you are doesn't affect who you are. Well, that was one to ponder. My dearest critter's "status" could be interpreted many ways but it got me thinking about my last home. The teeny apartment by the mall, on the ugly street, by the ghetto-grocery store (((sorry))), with the cop upstairs beating his girlfriend. There, depressed days meant staring out the window watching deliveries and prospective renters enter and leave the office, and watching cars go by. In 18 months the only excitement on the road was one actual eye-witness crash (it was Fabulous!) and twice the crazylovable bikerboys, babes on back, drove by by the hundreds on their way to the eastern shore. Numbness prevailed.
So we compromise on some things to have the view. We must say here, my dearest one "blog follower", that it is not only the view which keeps the soul moving up, but the movement of the water as well. A lake would suffice as a pleasant change from a street view, but the tides, the colors and the changes united with the expected faithful sunrise, help the blackened mind see a glimmer of light.
Light and life. There was no life until He said: Let there be light. I think one of us will blog about that.
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