Stewards of Joy

The Squires are living well these days:  today is Mr. Squire's last day of school, and he has been smiling, laughing, and joking more and more every day this past week, and taking lots of photos of his kids.  Work hasn't been too crazy for me, so while I am plenty busy, I'm not overwhelmed.  We've been attending many weddings (and still have many to go), and enjoying reunion after reunion with various family, law school friends, college friends, church friends from Boston, church friends from here in New York, old roommates, etc.  Mr. Squire is settling into a new role in church as a leader of the small-group leaders, and I'm continuing a lot of my informal meetings with various women, and seeing God use my past experiences to help identify with what other women are going through.  We ourselves are healthy, our parents and siblings are (on the whole) doing quite well, and of course we are delighted with each other and continue to build a strong, joyful marriage.  (And Mr. Squire keeps playing softball for my firm's team, and winning.)  We have a lot of good things going on, and a lot of joy flowing in and through our lives.

At the same time...certain members of our church family have been going through a particularly rough period lately.  Someone's older brother committed suicide recently.  A young mother gave birth to her first child--who promptly passed away.  We knew it was going to happen, but we've been praying for a miracle for months, and God in His wisdom saw fit not to grant our requests.  Others around us are going through difficult breakups, or uncertainty in their lives. 

These events, to varying degrees, have left a pall of shadows upon our otherwise sunny wall.  And one thought that keeps coming back to my mind is that we who have been blessed with inordinate amounts of joy have a duty (and should also have a concomitant desire) to be "stewards of our joy" by shouldering an inordinate proportion of the burdens of those around us.  It's like with money:  those who are blessed with financial abundance should shoulder an inordinate proportion of the financial burdens of those who were given less financial means--that's part of financial stewardship.  Why should not the same be true for joy?  

I think we've been doing this--or have been trying to, anyway--through daily prayers, staying in touch through email, and offering to meet up and just be with our brothers and sisters who are going through tough times.  I keep thinking that there's more, though.  More we can do, and more we should do.  I've been praying for wisdom on this.  My prayers appears to have returned empty (so far) with respect to other tangible things to do in support, but at the very least, this concept of stewardship has formulated pretty well.  We're not to hoard our joy into a happy little bundle and enjoy the warmth of our fire, cozying up to it and to each other in an insular circle.  Rather, we who have a huge bonfire are to make extra efforts to share the warmth of the fire--not just inviting others to the circle, but also going so far as to form torches and multiply the fire and bring it to places that have none (or less).

So may our lives be!  Lord, help us.

Chicory

The Squires drove up to Boston again this weekend to attend wedding #4.  God gave us gorgeous weather and few traffic issues (for the most part) for the drive up and back, which we were very thankful for.  

Another thing I was very thankful for were the masses of chicory flowers lining the highways upon which we traveled, particularly in New York and Connecticut.  I have long loved chicory and it is my absolute favorite flower.  It's a pity that it is considered a weed, because I think it would be splendid to have a garden full of them.  I've already told Mr. Squire that if we ever own a plot of land of any size, I don't want a grassy lawn; I want chicory everywhere.  

And next year, when we (God willing) move to New Jersey, I'm thinking of finding some chicory seeds and planting them along the road by the bus stop.  *plotting*

Anyway, although I didn't get to snap any photos of the chicory along the road (though I was desperate to), I did get to photograph chicory in the glass flowers exhibit at the Harvard Museum of Natural History, where the wedding reception was held.  (Hard to believe this is made of glass--and made sometime between 1887 and 1936.)  Not as pretty as the real thing, but still makes me happy.

Blowing Smoke

I will refrain from writing yet another blogpost about what a great husband Mr. Squire is (although he did lug home a 15-pound watermelon home from Chinatown for me on this rainy Tuesday).  That matters too, but today is a day for different reflections. 

Sometimes God creeps up on us, I think.  He sneaks up behind us when we think He's not looking, or when we think He's off tending to something else, and then He surprises us by tapping us on the shoulder with a grin and saying, "I'm heee-ere!"  Okay, maybe not quite like that.  I'm probably imposing too much of my image of Mr. Squire and my dad on God right there.  But then again...who's to say God doesn't have a goofy side?  I think goofiness is a gift, and every good thing comes from God.  

Anyway, I digress.  This morning I was rushing around, getting ready for a busy day at work.  I was very happy about sleeping well two nights in a row, and generally thanking God for that, and for Mr. Squire, and for my right shin, which has since recovered from a strange pain on Sunday.  I was shooting up small prayers to God while en route to and from the gym.  Nothing big, just a lot of the same prayers for the same people. 

I breezed through my quiet time faster than usual because I was in a hurry to get to work.  I've been reading through Isaiah and the accompanying Matthew Henry commentary, and read Isaiah 32 this morning.  I wasn't really focused, so I decided to just spend a bit of time being still and quiet.  Somehow "being still and quiet" led to "surfing on the internet."  :-p  Sigh.  But!  Said surfing "somehow" brought me to the webpage for job openings at the International Justice Mission (IJM), an organization I've long been fond of.  I don't even recall why I was looking at that page, or even how I got there (did I Google-search IJM?  did I see an ad and click on it? I think I googled "jobs for Christian lawyers").  But all of a sudden I was staring at a job opening for "General Counsel" at IJM. 

Let's not get too excited here.  I'm not qualified for the position, as I haven't been an attorney for at least 7 years.  Nor have I worked in-house or at a non-profit.  But...somehow, seeing the job posting got me excited.  It's been a while since I've felt any glimmer of real excitement regarding my long-term future as a lawyer.  Following 20 years of working toward the US Attorney's Office, I've felt God inexplicably lead me away from that path (and I think I'm right in reading the signs).  As a result, I have mentally closed the door to the US Attorney's Office.  With that path roped off, it's been hard to envision a fulfilling professional future.  I'm plenty happy where I am now, but I know it's not a long-term solution for me.  Often, I don't really understand the point of being here, professionally (though I do understand the point in terms of relationships with other people).  

But seeing the IJM posting today made me realize that this job may indeed be a deliberate step on God's part, preparing me for the next thing, or the next-next thing.  A job like this could very well help me get an in-house job--which in turn would give me another experience needed to jump to IJM eventually.  Who knows?  But it's not outside the realm of possibility, and somehow that is a relief to me.  I've been looking for a guidepost to show me that I'm not off-course, even though I often feel off-course.  I often feel like I'm way off the map!  I think this IJM encounter was something from God.  If it was, then I imagine that it was to encourage me...a reminder that even though I no longer see His pillar of fire, I can still smell the smoke:  he was blowing it in my face today to remind me that He is still near, even if I cannot see exactly where He is, or where He's leading.  That is a tremendous comfort.

So...IJM or no IJM... I have no idea.  I'm very excited about working toward an IJM-ish type of job.  But that's kind of besides the point.  The point is that God has, at least for today, renewed my hope and faith that He is guiding me and my steps.  I don't understand the way He is leading, but I was reminded today (I think) that He still holds my hand.  And that is direction enough for today.

P.S.  No matter what Mr. Squire says, I know he will miss the kids.  Even as I wrote this reflection, he received a call from a parent whose kid needs to go to summer school.  The parent can't take the kid to summer school (at a different school than usual), so Mr. Squire agreed to accompany the kid to summer school the first day, riding the bus with him and making sure he gets to school okay.  He even said that if the kid isn't comfortable doing it by himself the second day, Mr. Squire will go with him for a couple days until he gets the hang of it.  Mind you...Mr. Squire's last day of teaching (at this school or any school) is next Wednesday, so summer school is not his job.  But...he was so glad to help.  I love him for it.  And I know he loves these kids.  He'll miss them one day, when he has recovered.

Popovers!

One of my great passions in life is making food--particularly baked goods. Yesterday I made these popovers, and they were quite a hit with our brunch guests.  Popovers are airy, eggy, and embarrassingly easy.

For those who are curious:

1-1/2 cups sifted all-purpose flour 
1 teaspoon salt 
3 large eggs (at room temperature) 
1-1/2 cups milk (at room temperature)

Preheat the oven to 450°F. 

Mix together the flour and the salt in a large bowl. 

Whisk together the eggs and milk in a small bowl. 

Stir the liquid ingredients into the dry ingredients, stirring the batter until just mixed. Do not overbeat. 

Preheat a popover or muffin pan just until hot. Brush the cups with melted butter and fill them half full of batter. 

Bake for 20 minutes at 450°F. Turn the heat down to 375°F (do NOT open the oven!) and bake for an additional 20 minutes until they are a crispy golden brown.  (Makes 12 popovers.)

River God

I can't sleep.  I woke up around 6am this morning (Saturday morning! So sad!), and couldn't really sleep for the next hour and a half, so I got up at 7:30.  Talk about a waste of opportunity to catch up on sleep--particularly since I've had insomnia until 3 or 4am at least three times in the last eight days.  Sigh.

Lots of time to think about stuff in my waking hours, of course.  Sometimes thinking about work and how I wonder what exactly I'm doing here and whether I'm doing it well and what will become of me when I hit my first decade as a lawyer (coming up in five years!).  Sometimes thinking about Mr. Squire and what he's going to do after the next nine schooldays end.  Sometimes thinking about our LLC and what God will choose to do with our Denver project... will it be a flop? what unexpected surprises lie around the corner? are we really ready to take on this big of a project?  will the ministry actually take off?  Sometimes thinking about our friends...many friends are suffering right now.  We're in a season of hurt, and waiting waiting waiting for a season of healing and renewal for our friends.

And sometimes, not so much thinking as "listening" to the music that wanders into my head.  This morning (and the last couple days), "River God" by Nichole Nordeman has been on my mind.  Lyrics are below.

I love the concept behind this song:  that we are stones, born rough around the edges, but shaped and formed and refined over long periods of time through God's constant work in our lives.  Little stones are smooth only once the water passes through.  The river (God) flows constantly around the stones--sometimes quickly, swirling around in an active flow.  Other times, the river simply surrounds the stone in stillness--but is still very much present.  In either case, the river never leaves the stone, never stops shaping it, never stops running fresh sediment through to polish this side and whittle away that side.   Sometimes raging wild, sometimes swollen high, never have I known this river dry. 

It's not a quick process.  I know that time brings change...and change takes time.  I'm very much a product of my century and of my profession.  As a result, I like things to be done (a) quickly, and (b) well in advance.  And so, I want to be made righteous now--or even better, yesterday.  But...it shall not be.  Fixing the sharp angles of this stone will take a lifetime of divine work.  

One day, we will meet the best of our hopes (and more).  Not only because the world will finally be made right, and creation will be restored to its original intended glory (wow, do I long for that day!).  But also because God's people will also finally(!) be made right, and once again fully reflect the image of God.  When the sunset comes, my prayer would be just this one: that you might pick me up and notice that I am just a little smoother in your hand...

River God 

Rolling river God 
Little stones are smooth 
Only once the water passes through 
So I am a stone 
rough and grainy still 
Trying to reconcile this river's chill

But when I close my eyes 
and feel you rushing by 
I know that time brings change 
and change takes time 
And when the sunset comes 
my prayer would be just this one 
that you might pick me up 
and notice that I am 
just a little smoother in your hand

Sometimes raging wild 
sometimes swollen high 
never have I known this river dry 
The deepest part of you 
is where I want to stay 
and feel the sharpest edges wash away

But when I close my eyes 
and feel you rushing by 
I know that time brings change 
and change takes time 
And when the sunset comes 
my prayer would be just this one 
that you might pick me up 
and notice that I am 
just a little smoother in your hand

To the Finish Line!

We have nine schooldays left to go in this four-year marathon.  Mr. Squire took a mental health day today, and it shows:  when I came home, he was at the ready to talk about his day, explain all the fun things he's doing with the stock market, and even look at my trial schedule (tentatively on for trial beginning December 9!...but we'll see).  This is a glimpse of what the future holds, I suppose.

I am getting used to the idea of leaving teaching behind.  I still hold out hope that we aren't leaving it for good, but I am convinced that this is the right choice, at least for now.  There is no point to suffer for suffering's sake.  That's something that I--who often am perhaps too eager to throw myself into and endure the fire--need to learn.  The Lord doesn't require sacrifice; He requires obedience, whether through the valley or a high mountain.  

I'm thankful for all the people who have prayed us through these past few months (and years!)...who have patiently listened through all the ups and downs and the trail of tears along the way.  I have truly experienced the power of prayer from the receiving end, and it is pretty amazing.  It's funny:  as one who is usually on the giving side of prayer, I have long been convinced that prayer "works" in that God answers prayer and listens to our pleas.  But experiencing the effects of prayer from this side--that is, being the one who is too weak and tired and worn to pray any longer for oneself... this has also convinced me that prayer "works," in a way I've never felt before.  I'm still learning about how You work, Lord.

* * *

In other news, below are photos from my walk in Brooklyn Bridge Park last night.  God has given us a beautiful place in which to live during our first three years of marriage.  We are blessed every day!

Surprise!

I totally don't deserve it, but God gave me an amazing husband.  Mr. Squire has a long string of amazing qualities, including being teachable, servant-hearted, crazy-funny and witty, harmlessly rascal-ish, and very thoughtful.  He is also whip-smart.  

Another thing is...he's very accommodating.  I guess growing up with three other siblings (and a live-in cousin) will do that to a person.  So, he has extended that quality to his marriage, where he indulges his wife's unusual love for stuffed animals.  Yesterday when I got home, he was out playing basketball with the neighborhood boys in the park down the block, but I found the above displayed for me to see.  Turns out that after coming home from school, Mr. Squire ran into Chinatown to pick up a hamigua and cherries for me!  Hamigua was my absolute favorite food during my trip to Xinjiang last year, so I was super-duper-duper excited to see a hamigua in our fridge.  And all the better that the surprise was "from Camel"! :) 

Lucky lucky, overblessed.

Quote of the Day

My greatest excitement of the day came this morning, when my Superstorm Sandy client informed me that FEMA awarded him an additional $20,000 in disaster recovery assistance as a result of the appeal that I filed on his behalf a couple months ago.  It's always great to win money for your clients--especially those who are in dire need, like my pro bono client.

 

Anyway, I very excitedly passed on the news to Mr. Squire, who sent me the following response by gchat:

 

"20k, huh?  Can I have half?"

 

What a funny guy.

 

 

Denver Project, Moving Forward!

I've alluded to this before, but Mr. Squire and I--by the grace of God--are entering a justice-minded, ministry-focused real estate venture with friends.  Specifically, we intend to form an LLC (on Monday!) and purchase an apartment complex that will serve as the basis for incarnational ministry designed to reach out and serve needy  populations in Colorado.


The team is in the midst of a particular fun phase of preparation and planning...deciding what to name our LLC!  As you'll see below, the group developed an array of proposed names, ranging from serious to...funny (we somehow got into Monopoly references)...to completely off-kilter (Slum Lords for the Lord...I know who came up with this!).  Today we are voting on our top three (see below)!


We are excited for this opportunity and pray continually that God will use this venture to reach and serve many, and show them who He is and that He loves them. 


* * *


What should we call our LLC?
Please check your THREE preferred names.


•  Peace Gardens LLC
•  Garden on a Hill LLC
•  Shalom Apartments LLC
•  New Hope Apartments LLC
•  Community Gardens LLC
•  Slum Lords for the Lord LLC
•  New Eden LLC
•  NewCreation Management LLC
•  VanderGardens LLC
•  শান্তি (śānti) Gardens LLC
•  Nyein Chan Yei Gardens LLC
•  Mustard Seed Gardens (or Apartments) LLC
•  New Roots Homes LLC
•  We the Redeemed LLC
•  Community Chest LLC
•  Just Money LLC
•  Common Grace LLC
•  Pam Gardens LLC
•  Shalom Gardens LLC
•  Vandergardens LLC
•  Marvin Gardens LLC
•  Shepherd's Gardens LLC
•  Oakbridge Homes

Crawling Toward the Finish Line

I got home from work today around 8:10.  Mr. Squire was in the kitchen, cooking up shin ramen.  He had just gotten home after a particularly terrible day at school--one in which he cursed inwardly twelve times and seriously thought about quitting right then and there.

I tried to gently talk him off the ledge... remind him that if he were to quit before the school year was over, he would always regret it. He would always look upon himself with disappointment over it. He's better than that, and he knows it.  I know it.  He has worked so hard over the last four years, and to quit with just 14 schooldays left would be a big mistake.

What I didn't say--because he didn't need to be told--is that he cannot quit now...for the kids' sake.  The average teacher lasts no more than two years at this school (the average tenure is quite a bit less), so the kids have a lot of turnover to deal with to begin with.  And teachers have quit mid-year already.  Mr. Squire cannot join them.  He has poured out everything he has--and more, it seems--for them.  Every last drop of energy goes to them and he comes home empty.  He has one more thing to show them, though, before the year is out: he needs to show them what commitment looks like.  

Commitment is staying for as long as you said you were going to stay, and giving it your all until you finish.

Commitment is toughing out the worst of days for the sake of the call.

Commitment is remaining, and dwelling, to the end.

This has been my battle, too.  Day after day, I feel like we are fighting the devil and all the discouragement and weariness he wants to throw our way.  We are so close to the end.  I want to always look back and say that we fought the good fight--all the way to the finish line.  We finished well.

Fourteen days left.  God help us.

Self-Diagnosis

(Updated 6/3/2013)

One of the things our pastor spoke about today during service was figuring out who we really are, and finding out who we're serving, and what we're really all about.  He maintains that the easiest way to find out who you really are is to ask someone else.  But, for those who are more into self-diagnosis, he proposes pondering over the following three questions:

1.  What do you want?

2.  What are your dreams?

3.  Who do you love?

Correlative questions include: (a) where do you spend your money? and (b) how do you spend your time?

I think these are great questions because, especially in combination, they really do reveal a lot about a person.  I wonder what they would reveal about me.  Time for some deep reflection.  

1.  What do you want?

Spiritually... I want to be found faithful, not just at the end of my life (assuming a long life) but at the end of any phase of my life (assuming my life will be cut short).  I want to be spiritually wise and to know God's heart.  I want to reflect who Christ is to other people, and to be a mirror of His love and compassion to those who don't know Him.  I want to lead people who don't know Jesus to His family, and see them come to believe in Him and live for Him.  I want to use the spiritual gifts God has given me to bless others and to help others experience His goodness. I want to support those who are living for Jesus, serving full-time in missions, both locally and around the world.  I want to be like Jesus in word and in deed--kind and gentle and compassionate, but also having wisdom to see things as they are, and to have great discernment.  I want to understand what God's justice requires, and to live it out.  I want to not rebel against God in my heart.  I want to understand communion and baptism.  I want to have a heart that doesn't selectively judge my brothers and sisters, or take them for granted, or grumble against them.  I want to be a good and faithful sister to my brothers and sisters in Christ.  I want to not disappoint God. I want to live outside of myself and truly care for the prisoner, widow, and orphan.  It seems that that has been largely lost on evangelical America, and I want to find it and live it.   I want to learn to stop caring so much about other people's approval, and learn what it means to live for an audience of one.  I want to be brave.

In relationships... In my marriage, I want to be my husband's best friend and closest confidante, his emotional and spiritual rock, the one he can always depend on, take joy in, and never fear.  I want him to always make me laugh; never lose his boyish, clear-eyed innocence; and always be my own safe haven, the one whom I take joy in, depend on, and never fear.  I want to precede Mr. Squire in death so as to never have to live without him.  With respect to my parents, I want them always to feel enormously loved and cared for by me.  I never know which day they're going to die.  Whenever that day may come, I want them to die with a great sense of satisfaction and contentment about their relationship with me.  With respect to any future children God may give us, I want to be wise, discerning, loving, compassionate, and hands-on as a mom.  I want to relate well to my kids, and to discipline them with love and care in a way that will help them understand right from wrong.  I want to teach them how to exercise good judgment--emotionally, relationally, physically, spiritually, financially.  I want to lead them to Christ and point to who He is, and raise them to love Him.  In my friendships, I want to be a faithful, helpful, wise friend--someone who carries their friends' burdens without complaining but with joy.  I want to be a wise counselor.  I admit... I want to be loved--and I also want to be liked.  I want to be admired, and missed when I'm gone.  I want to be unforgettable and indispensable. 

At work... I want to be challenged at work, and I want to be good at my job.  I want to do my work with excellence.  I want to know what I'm doing, and do it well.  I want to do work that helps people where they need it most.  I want to do work that promotes justice--God's type of justice.  I want to use my legal skills and opportunities to serve those who can't help themselves.  I want to put my degree to good use, but I don't want to feel bound by the expectations that come with it.  I want to work in a place where I like my coworkers (which is certainly the case now).  I want to show my coworkers who Christ is.  I don't want to work crazy hours.  I don't want to work every weekend, or even most weekends.  I don't want to work so hard that I miss out on my kids, marriage, church life, extended family, and friends.  I want the combination of my wants to be possible.  

And for everything else...  I want to live in a cozy house.  I want to live someplace where I can watch crops grow and hear birds chirp outside my window, and see the horizon.  I want to stop worrying about things I can't control.  I want to come to peace with my body-image issues.  I want to stop complaining about stupid stuff.  I want to learn how to make cakes with fondant icing.  I want to have Christmas cookie-decorating parties.  I want to live near my closest friends and see them often.  I want to appreciate the friends I do have nearby.  I want to live near family, and I want my kids to grow up near their relatives.  I want to stop secretly wishing for someone else's life (because mine is pretty awesome).  I want to appreciate what I have.  I don't want to have to worry about money, but I don't want money to be my god, and I also want to prove that Christians at our income level can and should live simply, instead of buying into what the world shows us is the way to go.  I want time to make crafts with my hands.  I want time to write articles for magazines.  I want time and resources to try the things I've been pinning on Pinterest.  I want my stuffed animals to always be real to me, but not have my kids freak out about their mom being weird.  I want to get better at telling jokes, and be a more effective speaker in general.  I want to make my life worth something that lasts.

2.  What are your dreams?  

See above.  I think that pretty much covers it.

3.  Who do you love?I love Mr. Squire.  I think I love God--or at least I try to love Him.  I love my parents.  I love my brother and sister-in-law and niece.  I love my friends--some more than others.  I have a degree of love for prisoners, the downtrodden, the hungry and homeless.  I'd like to love them more, because Jesus sure did.

Reflections on Life in Brooklyn

It is a hot Saturday.  

Yesterday, Mr. Squire installed our window unit AC in the bedroom, but by the time we went to sleep at 10:30, it was only 77 degrees outside, so we didn't run it, and instead stuck with the fan and assumed a very still, splayed-out form on the bed.  I slept well, had bizarre dreams about being guilted into attending a Campus Crusade conference when all I really wanted to do was take advantage of one last opportunity to go snorkeling (they even went so far as to install a machine in my arm that spewed out guilt-inducing threats!), and woke up hot.

Our apartment, a tenement house built for the working poor in 1890, is humble in its 400-square-foot glory, but features five glorious windows (two in the kitchen, one in the living space, two in the bedroom) that together allow for a decent cross-breeze during the summer.  We keep two windows (one in the kitchen, one in the bedroom) open all year round.  Today we opened two others to let the breeze through.  Still, I am sweating.  

To make matters worse, of course, we did our cooking for the week this morning on our gas stove:  I cooked nine (yes, nine) pounds of zucchini, and Mr. Squire cooked a chicken/water chestnut/bamboo/baby corn stir-fry that my dad taught him last time we were home.  We have exactly one square foot of counter space in our galley kitchen (which itself measures approximately 20 square feet), so we had to take turns cooking and cutting and doing our thing.  Finally, by 11am, we were done, though.  And I was hot.

I'm still hot.  I went to the gym and had a very nice workout, and then walked the half-mile back home, half-shamedly sporting gigantic sweat spots on my grey t-shirt.  (Note to self: when doing such a long workout, wear your one dry-fit shirt!)  I'm looking forward to a shower.

It's hot, and it's mundane.  Have I bored you yet?  I have kind of bored myself...but not really.  It is June 2013.  If all goes according to plan, the Squires will be moving away from Brooklyn in one year, and we will then assume a different kind of life in New Jersey.  We haven't even left our home here in Brooklyn Heights, but I miss it already, knowing that we won't be here all that much longer.  Thankfully, I've always known that our time here would be limited, so I haven't taken it for granted.  Three years of life here is a tremendous blessing.  I love nearly everything about this place; it is simple, old-fashioned, neighborhoody (particularly since we actually know so many of our neighbors), quaint, and gorgeous.  

It appeals to all the senses:  the birds chirping in the trees, the fact that you can clearly hear the sound of your own footsteps as you pad up and down the way.  The smell of coffee and donuts emanating that old corner store at Henry and State, the aromas wafting down the Middle Eastern corridor on Atlantic.  The taste of lamb cooked in a four-foot hole at the Yemeni restaurant, and the pillowy texture of the ginormous flatbread that comes with it.  The dizzying array of baklava--in all shapes, flavors, and sizes--at the Syrian shop.  The hot and crisp falafel served up for $3.80 a sandwich at Jamal's Tunisian hole-in-the-wall on Henry Street (and a special soft spot in my heart for Jamal, who used to give me a 25-cent discount on my hummus sandwich back in 2006 when I was a student living in Brooklyn Heights).  And people's gardens: their perfectly manicured flower boxes in front of gigantic picture windows.  The elephant ears.  The banana trees.  The incredible rose vines and vegetation in the community garden next door. The flowering quince (see earlier post) crawling all over an iron fence every spring.  The tall mimosa tree that blooms all summer long.  The garden shop run out of someone's home on Joralemon.  The cobble-stoned street that leads to home, and all of the incredibleness of Brooklyn Bridge Park, just a stone's throw away.  The beautifully dressed doors and entryways during the holidays.  Everything is so lovely.  All of Brooklyn Heights is a historical landmark, so...it can't really be tinkered with all that much, so it has preserved much of its yesteryear atmosphere.   There are still a number of big lampposts that feature gas-lit flames all year long.  I love it.

And we love our neighbors:  Salah, who owns the Iris Cafe.  Jizlan and Fudla in the Moroccan laundromat.  Our favorite apartment neighbors--Calvin and Lisette, and their adorable children, Elijah and Zuri (whom they somehow manage to raise in an identical, 400-square-foot apartment!).  Sam and Penny (though I'm not such a fan of Penny the dog). 

The Lord has richly blessed our first couple years of marriage, not only in our relationship, but also in our surroundings.  I will be sad to leave this place, but so so thankful for our time here.  I'll miss these hot Saturdays, these early days in our marriage when we didn't have much in the way of worldly comfort by this City's crazy standards--but we had everything in the world that mattered.