Truth

Those on whom the sun shines need neither moon nor stars, nor the light of their own fire. - Matthew Henry

 

I read this during my quiet time a couple mornings ago.  It's from the commentary to Isaiah 44, in a passage about idolatry.  I just love it, not only because it is true, but because it speaks to me where I am right now.

 

This says to me that because the love of Jesus has been poured out on me, and because God by the blood of Christ has restored my relationship with Him, I have all the approval and love in the world that I could need. 

 

He is the sun, and He shines down on me, warming my face, sustaining my soul.  In light of that (no pun intended), there is no need to run after other sources of light and warmth--approval from others by way of amassing money, power, fame, popularity, or knowledge.  And indeed, running after such things is foolishness, for the light of the stars pales in comparison with the light of the sun (the stars brighten the night, but the sun drives out night).  And the brightness of the moon actually is attributable to the sun. (Talk about idolatry: praising the thing that was made in lieu of the One who made it!)

 

Nor is there any need to build and light my own fire in an attempt to create my own light and warmth.  Such an effort would be meaningless, meaningless, a chasing after the wind.  And doesn't the majority of modern life look like that?  Working endlessly in a chase after coals to add to the fire, exerting strength day after to day to fan its flames, constantly tending to a fire to make it bigger and better--and to ensure that it is not snuffed out.  And for what, when the sun is shining down on me?

 

I like the idea.  I love it, in fact.  But I'm not living it out yet.  I'm still tending a fire, still squinting into a telescope to examine the stars, still basking in the light of the moon.  One day I will grow up...hopefully one day soon.

 

Sabrina and Abigail

This morning, two of my friends had their first day back after being on family leave.  But their circumstances could not be more different.

He s a first-time dad.

She is a first-time mom.

In the weeks preceding, night after night,

we prayed for him and his wife, for a safe delivery.

In the months preceding, night after night, 

we prayed for her and her husband, for a miracle.

His wife gave birth to a beautiful little girl.

So did she.

His daughter is several weeks old now.

Her daughter will forever be no more than a couple hours old.

His baby cries for her parents, day in and day out.

She and her husband cry for their baby.

We hope his Sabrina comes to know Jesus one day.

Abigail is already with her Savior now.

He gives

Tragedy and joy

At the same time

The Lord gives

The Lord takes away

We trust in Your goodness, Lord

even when we cannot understand.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Saturday Morning Reflections

It's a quiet morning for me.  Mr. Squire left at the crack of dawn to play in an all-day softball tournament so I'm all by myself until a friend comes at 5pm to pick me up for the softball BBQ tonight.  I sit here at our "kitchen" table, my feet propped up on the neighboring chair, rice simmering away in the cooker.  Just four feet in front of my toes, I see our sheer white curtains (which are five inches too short for the window, which is taller than me) gently inhaling and exhaling with the breeze generated by the massive gingko beyond our fire escape.  This is a peaceful, God-given morning.

And so full of possibilities!  This morning when I arose, I made a list of things I'd like to do today before 5pm:

1. hit the gym

2. find and buy big smile peaches somewhere (preferably at 99 cents/pound)

3. call a friend to discuss her alternative career in law

4. cook the chicken dish that my dad taught Mr. Squire (and which I really should learn myself)

5. reflect

6. continue my fish research (we're getting a pet fish! It's been 9 years since Sam died at 8 since Cruiser died, and it's time I got another betta fish)

7. write a letter to my brother

8. call my parents

9. scope out photography locations for our photo shoot that we're doing next month (a gift that we got for hosting the photographer's husband for 3 weeks)

I already accomplished numbers 1 and 2 (had to beat the crowd at the gym!) but now I am thinking that I should skip down to number 5 before moving on to anything else.  As our pastor said during last week's sermon:  do the important things first!  The fish, for example, can wait.

These days, the main talk of the Squire household surrounds what Mr. Squire will do in the way of work for this coming year.  After college, Mr. Squire worked in a banking job for two years, then traded the six-figure salary for a master's degree in education because he felt God calling him into education. This is when I met him, and I loved that about him.  He spent the next four years teaching in various inner-city schools (some more troubled than others, but altogether very, very needy) and really learning how the "other half" lives, and walking--to some extent--with them in their journeys.  Come the end of last year, when he could barely make it through the last six weeks, we knew Mr. Squire needed at least one year off from teaching.  This devastated me, but I knew it was necessary.  

I also knew, however, that as frustrated and exhausted as Mr. Squire was with the school and his kids and the daily grind, he would miss it.  And...not to say I-told-you-so, but...I was right!  Within days of his last day at school, he was back on the phone with parents, agreeing to walk their kids to summer school. He dropped by summer school to see his students, and he spent two-and-a-half hours tutoring one of his former students this past week.  He also agreed to substitute teach three days in September.  He misses the kids, but he knows his limits.

In the meantime, while other teachers are filling their summers with travel, fishing, sleeping in, and beach reading (these are all examples from his colleagues), Mr. Squire has been working a full-time, unpaid internship with a friend, doing finance work.  It has been the oddest thing for me to see him rise at 7am for conference calls, and to travel to Denver and live up the lavish lifestyle at an oil-and-gas conference, and to hear him speak so intelligently about various companies as they release their earnings reports.  I've also been very entertained at his attempts to get Jane Q. Public's view of various brands by g-chatting me throughout the day:  

Mr. Squire:  ever heard of bebe?  are they any good?
Mr. Squire:  how about white house black market?  what do you think?

The most fun part is watching Mr. Squire and his friend have fun when they win on certain trades.  They went out for burritos after winning on Chipotle.  The next day, they got lattes at Starbucks.  I get my pet fish (Mr. Squire jokingly says) because they won on Petsmart.  Mr. Squire is hoping his friend will get us a Tesla if they win on that company, but I don't think it's going to happen.  They will probably just get ice cream, which is what they do to celebrate the companies that don't have an obvious token reward (like LinkedIn) or companies that we just don't like buying from (Abercrombie is racist).  

The friend has offered Mr. Squire a full-time job for this coming year, and there are certainly many upsides to it:  flexible schedule, Mr. Squire gets to continue learning from the best and he enjoys the work, frees him up to serve at church more and have more time and energy to build relationships, and he would be free to continue working on a 20%ish basis at his old school--keeping his connections with his kids and their parents.  Seems like the best of both worlds (finance and education), really...and should God give us children in the next year, he would be able to continue working part-time for his friend while raising our kids at home.  All of these things are good.

Notwithstanding these obvious advantages, I find myself concerned about him taking this opportunity and walking this path.  I know that there is redemption in almost every kind of work.. but it's just so much easier to see the eternal value in working in an inner-city school than making money off of the stock market.  This is a personal bias on my part, and as my coworker pointed out to me recently: "I know you care a lot about the story that your life tells.  But really, the story that you tell to other people isn't what matters: it's the story that you tell to your God that matters."  She's right, and it is all about the heart.  Man looks at outward appearances, but God looks at the heart (I Samuel 16:7).  

I wonder about my heart, though.  I am very skeptical of my heart and my motives.  And I think being in urban education for the past four years has been a very good thing for Mr. Squire and me.  It has given us incredible insight into a world far beyond our own--a world that we would not otherwise have any occasion to encounter, much less know intimately.  I think that spiritually, that insight has been a good thing for us: it has reminded us, time and time again, of hurting and struggling and resilient and courageous people around us.  That's spiritual progress, which I have valued so highly.

I think about how our conversations have changed over the last six weeks.  We talk much more about how various companies are doing, what the street thinks of the companies and what the reading shows.  We talk about whether we won, or lost, and by how much.  It's interesting.  But I'm having trouble seeing the eternal.  And I wonder if, long-term--or even in the medium-term--this will hurt us spiritually.  Will God shield our hearts?  Will He enable us to walk in the world but not be of it?  Will He keep our hearts soft and centered on things that really matter?  

Mr. Squire maintains that this gig is more of a good thing spiritually.  After all, it's this little internship that got him back into reading the Bible on a regular basis.  And it is true:  now that he is no longer a zombie, he is much much MUCH more emotionally and energy-wise available to the people around him, to be a better friend, brother, neighbor, husband, and leader.  

So I don't know.  I am brought back to the exhortation in Proverbs to trust in the Lord with our your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways, acknowledge Him (yes, Lord, help us!), and He will direct your path.  I am leaning on these promises, Lord.  Your Word does not return to You void, so help us, Lord Jesus.

Spared!...and Reflective

This morning, while jogging to the gym at 7am, I was nearly run over by a taxi that was speeding through a red light.  And mind you, he wasn't speeding through a yellow light that turned red at the last minute; his red light had been red and was four or five seconds shy of turning green when he sped through the intersection, almost hitting me.  

In my shock, which quickly turned to relief--and then very quickly turned to anger--I yelled at the cabbie (who himself was stunned and braked hard after passing through the intersection) -- "What are you doing?? What, were you just going to run the red and hit me?!"  Then the light turned green, and he yelled an apology out the window, and went on his way.

I disappointed myself.  As I walked toward the gym, heart pounding, I imagined all the other things I wish I had said--most of them variations on what I actually said.

But after thinking about it for a while, I realize that what I should have done was walk over to his car and require him to pull over, take note of his cab number, and ask him (a) if he understands that red means stop; (b) if he understands that he could have hit--or killed--me or anyone else by speeding through that red; and (c) whether he promised never to do it again.  And if he gave me anything short of sincere, correct responses, I would report him to the NYPD.  But if he gave me the right answers with real remorse, I would not report him.  After all, it's not easy being a cabbie (but that does not excuse reckless driving!).

This is the second time that I have learned that I lack the presence that I desire to have in emergency situations.  When a guy rammed into my parents-in-law's car before my very eyes--twice--while parallel parking into an illegal spot, I yelled at the guy, but didn't do anything productive.  I need growth in this area.  I think real wisdom doesn't just react by yelling; it takes in the situation and responds with deliberation in a measured, helpful way.  Yes...I really need to grow in this area especially.

And in the meantime, I am very thankful to have been spared.

Writer's Block

Mr. Squire are sitting here doing our reflections, which we haven't done together in a while.  I am experiencing major writer's block, so I asked Mr. Squire, "What should I reflect about? I can't think of anything."  And he replied, "You can reflect about how God plays jokes on you because He loves you--just like your husband!"

Uhhhhh....

It is true that my husband plays jokes on me (all. the. time!) because he loves me. I'm not so sure that God plays jokes on me.  And if He did, maybe I wouldn't find them all that funny.  Anyway, in the meantime, here is a funny story about how Mr. Squire played a joke on me yesterday:

We were in Trader Joe's, waiting in the long line to pay for our groceries, which I was holding as Mr. Squire went to go check out avocados.  We were very far back in the line, so even though I didn't have any money on me, I wasn't worried.  And sure enough, he soon came back to join me in line when there were still maybe eight people in front of us.  As we advanced in the line, we soon passed the frozen food aisle, where I spotted some salmon patties.  Mr. Squire offered to check them out, and I watched him from the line as he examined the various packages in that aisle.  The line soon advanced, though, bringing me out of his line of sight.  Soon, there were only four people in front of me.  Mr. Squire still wasn't back, and I couldn't see him. I anxiously looked back toward the front of the frozen food aisle, wondering how I would get his attention.  I didn't have any money--and I didn't want to lose our spot in line!  I kept looking back, and kept not seeing him... finally, with three people in front of me, I softly called, "Mr. Squuiiiiire..."  I didn't want to be too loud or too obvious.  But there's no way he could hear me.  I tried again, "Mr. Squiiiiiiiire..."  No sign of Mr. Squire.  I kept looking back, kept wondering what I should do.  A couple minutes passed. And then, to my immediate left, I heard, "Hello!"  Mr. Squire was standing right next to me, looking quite relaxed and entertained.  "How long were you standing here?!" I exclaimed.  He laughed and responded, "Mr. Squiiiiiiire...."  He had heard me calling for him, and he had been standing beside me the entire time--watching me panic!

That's my honey.  So full of harmless mischief.  His sense of humor must be God-given, which perhaps means that maybe God does play jokes on us occasionally... but who really knows.

Anyway, the weekend was the first in six weeks that didn't involve work.  Hooray!  It was wonderful.  Friday evening was spent with a sister who is starting her law school career at Harvard this fall.  It was a joy to be able to meet with her and offer some encouragement and words of advice.  Saturday was spent helping another sister move, followed by baking key lime pie for our houseguest (a college friend of Mr. Squire's), watching an old episode of "Downton Abbey," and in general enjoying Mr. Squire's company.  This morning involved a nice walk along the river and Brooklyn Bridge Park, enjoying Mr. Squire's home-cooked lunch, followed by church and church dinner.  And now reflections.

I guess my overall reflection should be that God has been impressing certain concepts on my heart recently.  They have been brought to me by various people, songs, sermons, or just plain thoughts in my heart that probably are from the Holy Spirit.  They are:

• Trust in the Lord with all your heart.  Lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways, acknowledge God -- and then He will direct your path.
• Be still and know that He is God.
• Work joyfully as unto the Lord.
• Ask Him if He approves of your next step.
• Rejoice in all things and circumstances, and be thankful.
• Love your neighbor.

That's today's uninspired rundown.  Hopefully will have more meaningful thoughts to share later...

City Metaphor #2: Waiting on the Subway Platform

The other day, I was standing on the subway platform at Times Square - 42d Street, listening to music on my iPhone.  I can't remember which song was playing--probably something by Avalon--but it was a song I knew inside and out.  Every single rhythm, lyric, and riff.  You were there, You were there, in the midst of danger's snare...You were there, You were there, always...

While I was standing there, a train rumbled into the station on the opposite track, filling the both the space and my ears with the noise pollution of its super-screechy wheels.  I could no longer hear my music; all I could hear was the train.  

After ten seconds of waiting at the platform, the train made its rumbly exit, and as it disappeared into the tunnel, I could hear my music fading back into my ears.  The funny thing was, I knew exactly where the song was even though I had just lost 20 seconds of it due to the train.  But God in all His sovereignty had bigger plans, and just in time, You brought a lamb...

I realized in that moment that even when I physically couldn't hear the music due to the train, the music was still playing in my head.  And I never lost a beat.

It hit me then that this is why it is so important to know God's Word inside and out.  Throughout our lives, we are standing on a proverbial subway platform.  Sometimes we can hear His voice--but inevitably at times, the "noise" of life drowns it out.  If we already have God's Word hidden away in our hearts, though, we will still be able to hear His voice in our hearts despite the noise surrounding us.

City Metaphor #1: Walking the Dog

I'm not really a city person.  I grew up in the suburbs, and wide open fields, endless skies, and the sounds of crickets and coyotes in the night, and Canadian geese by day, will always charm me.  

That having been said, I've now spent the better half of a decade in some big city or other, and as a result, I've had quite a bit of time to absorb various aspects of city life.  Usually I find that the city impedes my ability to sense and see God because it is filled with so many distractions and all sorts of noise (both literally and metaphorically).  But there's one aspect of city life that has spoken to me--and continues to speak to me--in a spiritual sense.

New Yorkers love their dogs.  Boy, do they love their dogs. Big ones, small ones, multiple ones...I see dogs and their masters everywhere.  It's not as if I didn't see people out with their dogs in the suburbs, because I did.  But given the crazy population density here, combined with the fact that I walk every day as part of my commute, I see many many MANY more dogs here than there.   

I often walk behind dogs and their masters as I'm walking down the sidewalk.  I quite enjoy it, not just because dogs are so cute, but also because they give me a lot of inspiration.  

You see... secretly (not so secretly anymore?), my dream is to be like a dog.  

Now, lest you think I've completely lost my marbles, I should explain.  When I see a dog with his master, here's what I see:

• The dog adores and finds joy in his master.  He doesn't care where he goes, as long as he goes with the master.  He could go the same place, via the same route, every single day, and the dog won't find it boring.  He will just be happy, because he is with his master.  I want to be like that with Jesus.

• The dog trusts his master.  The master may take him someplace he's never been...may take him to meet other dogs...may let other humans pet him...and the dog is cool with all of that.  The dog has no reason to fear, because he knows he will be fed, housed, loved, taken care of. He knows his future is secure.  He trusts his master.  I want to be like that with Jesus.

• The dog is sensitive to his master's leading--most of the time.  It's called a leash.  The dog has freedom to wander, and sometimes the master has to wait for the stubborn dog who is too busy sniffing at a flower or captivated by a squirrel.  But most of the time, the dogs I see go where there masters tug.  Or, even more impressively, they know their master so well that they seem to walk in tandem with their master - knowing when to stop and when to start, when to move over, when to step aside.  I want to be like that with Jesus.

Here's to a closer walk with Jesus!

City Metaphor #2:  The Subway Platform is coming up next (just thought of it yesterday)

Reflections on the Weekend

I'll just come out and say it:  I'm a bit of a crybaby.  I cry a lot.  I'm very sensitive.  I'm a feeler.  And when I start crying, I can't stop.  That's probably why I've cried every day for three days now.

God knew this was going to happen--I just know He did.  And I believe that He timed the church leadership retreat in advance to coincide with an unusually low period at work.  He knew I would struggle to make it to the leadership retreat, because I've been working every other weekend to play catchup.  He also knew that He would arrange things so that, notwithstanding the pressure of the week on each side of the retreat, I would be able to attend the retreat.  And He knew that it was exactly what I would need at that point.  

I know He knew.  This is one example of why, when they asked during retreat what are some of the attributes of God that I am thankful for, I said I was thankful that (1) God is loving, and (2) God is all-powerful.  He is awesome because He is both of these things at the same time.  Say God is loving, but He can't do anything to help us:  that's nice, but not particularly helpful.  In contrast, say God is all-powerful, but He doesn't love us:  that is frightening.  But God is loving and He can do something about His love:  that is beautiful, comforting, almost magical.  He is so praiseworthy.  

What follows are a smattering of my thoughts about the weekend:

• There were nineteen of us who attended retreat.  These are leaders in various ministries (hospitality, missions, small groups, elders, etc.), and as I looked around the table at each face, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for each one.  I came to this church five years ago, struggled for two years with wanting to leave it, and then in the latter three years, started really developing serious relationships with people at the church (thanks to C, who reminded me that I couldn't hang onto my law school fellowship forever -- thank you, C. Love you!).  Now, five years and two leadership retreats later, I could look around the table and see eighteen other faces of people I love and trust and respect.  I am grateful to be able to journey through this part of my life with them.  Most of them attended our wedding two years ago, and although I sense that we will not remain in NYC forever--or even that much longer, really--these people and this church have a place in my heart right alongside my law school fellowship.  I am so thankful for them. 

• We spent a lot of time in prayer this weekend (Mr. Squire joked this afternoon during church that he had prayer fatigue), which was awesome.  We spent a lot of time methodically sharing and then praying about questions such as: (1) what is an attribute of God that you praise Him for?  (2) what is something you need to confess right now? (3) what is something you're thankful for?  (4) what do you see God doing in our church right now? (5) what is something you need prayer for?  (6) who is your neighbor?  (7) what does your neighbor care most about? (8) how can you take steps to serve your neighbor?  (9) how can we pray for your neighbor?  .... Just such a soul-filling time, especially for me, because I love to pray and am energized by prayer.  It's a bit peculiar, because I struggle a lot with having sufficient faith.  Maybe that's why God gave me the spiritual gift of prayer, though... to help build my faith?

• One thing that we always do at leadership retreat is share our spiritual timelines--big posterboards on which we have mapped out the major events of our lives that God has used to shape us over time.  They keep the posters from past years (I first drew mine last year), so you can see other people's timelines from past retreats, and you can update your own.  Then we spent a good 30 minutes each sharing our timelines in detail with a small group of others that we serve with.  I love learning more about my brothers and sisters in this way, because it helps me understand who they are so much better.  

• The drawing/updating of my own timeline was also a good time to reflect on what God has done in my life.  I realized this year that a shift has happened in my timeline.  It was very apparent to me last year when I originally drew the timeline that over time, from childhood to present, God has told various stories of redemption in my life.  Broken family relationships have mended over the course of decades, in a most unlikely manner.  Fears and anxieties stemming from my racial identity issues played out over many years, resulting in real reconciliation with who I am.  Financial insecurities finally have been redeemed over time.  And through all of those tumultuous years during which God slowly and painfully ironed out the massive wrinkles, the one constant that kept me level and rooted was a strong sense of God's calling for me in terms of work and mission.  Notwithstanding the chaos and hurt surrounding me, I always found great solace and assurance of God's reality in my life through His leading in calling me to a particular type of work.  It dawned on me this weekend as I updated my timeline that everything has been turned upside down now.  Before, the clarity of calling was my spiritual anchor  that helped me keep the faith when I didn't know where I was going in other areas of my life.  But now that those other areas of my life have largely been resolved and redeemed...the calling part has become a dark, confusing, lonesome, and scary desert.  I don't see God in it anymore, no matter how hard I am trying to look and to pursue His will.  I ask, and He has not (to my knowledge) answered (yet).  I knock, and hear no response.  I seek, but I have not found.  And it is very discouraging.  I am sad.  I am frightened.  And it is very, very hard for me to talk to God about this.  It is a very present problem in my faith.  And there must be some meaning to this (and thanks so much to Mel for praying for me today, that I would have patience to wait on God for an answer--whether it be for a week, a month, a year, or ten years, or forty years).  In the meantime, the great redemption that God has already worked out over the past 25 years in other areas of my life now keeps me afloat.  It's a perfect flip-flop, and I would almost characterize it as poetic if it weren't so painful.

• We spent a large chunk of Saturday night encouraging one another.  I loved this.  And I needed it.  This is what I mean when I say that God KNEW that I needed to be at this retreat at this very time.  One thing we did was write an encouragement on a board dedicated to each person at the retreat.  By the time we passed around everyone's boards, they all had 18 phrases, words, messages, or pictures of encouragement on them.  Ours (mine and Mr. Squire's) are now hanging on our bedroom door.  The ongoing theme for him is that he is joyful, servant-hearted, and an exemplary husband (which I totally agree with!).  The ongoing theme for me is that I am a strong encourager, insightful/wise, and caring.  I was touched and uplifted to receive these affirmations from my beloved brothers and sisters.  I also loved the opportunity to share my real thoughts about each of them:  I drew a sheep and a crook for our pastor, who is a good shepherd.  For Mr. Squire's mentor, I wrote that he is a true servant of Christ who loves as Jesus did.  For my own mentors, I sent messages of my love and admiration for their gentleness, wisdom, and hearts that pursue Christ at all times.  God has given this body so much.

• The other awesome encouragement exercise we did was the touching game, which sounds way more sketchy than it is.  Basically five people sat down in chairs and closed their eyes, and then phrases would be read.  The phrases were like, "Someone who has prayed for you," "Someone who has given you hope," "Someone who you look forward to walking with," and stuff like that.  The other fourteen people would mill around after each phrase was read and touch the shoulder of any/all of the five people to whom the phrases pertained.  As a seated person, you could feel so much love in each pat or lingering squeeze on the shoulder, and you could sense by sheer number that we truly do impact each other's lives.  This, too, was soul-feeding.

• We stayed in an old convent. It was beautiful and old and a calming, inspiring setting.  I loved it.  I missed sleeping with Mr. Squire (they only have the single rooms that nuns sleep in), but I loved the monastic setting.  There's something to having such a meditative atmosphere.  It was awesome.

• We had wonderful group strategic discussions about what we're seeing in our church, what the culture is, and whether and how we can change various parts of it.  There's such a degree of trust among all the people who were there, and the love for others in our community was so evident.  I love serving with these folks and felt so blessed to be there.

So...that's basically it.  Lots of good things.  My heart is full again.  I'm still terrified of the week ahead, and have prayed for courage to make it through.  But I know I am in much better condition than I otherwise would have been.  Praise God.  I may not know where You're leading me, and that's really hard for me because I just want to know that You are pleased with how I'm using the talents You have given me.  But I do know that You are sustaining me... and much as I kick and scream, Your grace really is enough.  Thank You, Lord.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

He may not be a doctor, but Mr. Squire knows that laughter is the way to his wife's heart.

Friday was an awful, awful, awful day at work.  I had had such high hopes for the day and was looking forward to heading to our church's leadership retreat for the weekend, and the morning was fine, early afternoon was fine, and then... kaboom! 

Since Mr. Squire is currently on break, he has had plenty of time to check in on me.  So when he heard that things had gone crazy-bad for me, he started texting me pictures during my last three hours at work, with the following captions (top to bottom):

1.  We want to stay home! Strike! Never let go!  (I had packed Doggy to go on the trip, and tried to convince him to bring Turtle and Pi, but he didn't want to bring the latter two)

2.  Pi:  Turtle, can you move over?  I don't have enough room!

3.  Nose to nose... Pick. Pick.  Hang in there!

4.  We're all with you.  Well, except Camel.  He's ready to push.  (Mr. Squire likes to joke that Camel is a bully, even though he totally isn't!)

People understand encouragement in different ways... some people receive it best through flowers, or candy, or a nice meal.  All of those things are nice, but what I find most touching are these pictures of my stuffies, arranged and captioned by my Mr. Squire.  Further affirmation that God picks the best spouses--way better than what I had imagined for myself.

Unfortunately, even all those adorable pictures were unable to save me from slinking out of the office, covertly trying to avoid any sort of interaction or contact with my colleagues.  I would have stayed until I looked less puffy- and teary-eyed, but I had to get down to Brooklyn in a hurry to catch my ride.  I rode the 2/3 train down to Union Square, found a seat on the train, and sat down and closed my eyes.  The events of the day replayed in my head and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face again.  How embarrassing--crying on a train during evening rush hour on a Friday night.  I never ever wanted to be that person.  Ever.  

But New York City surprised me.  As humiliated and embarrassed as I was, people showed me compassion.  Or at least two people did.  The woman next to me offered me tissues--twice (I turned her down)--and before she got off the train, she wished me well.  Then, when I got off at Union Square and wandered my way toward the L, I felt a hand gently touch my back.  I turned my head, and a young man with Dr. Dre Beats headphones gently said, "I just want to say...I hope your day gets better."  I burst into tears as I said a thank you, totally touched and moved.  Thank you, New York City, for showing me such kindness.