Marveling
I am sitting in my room, and the bags are all unpacked. Two weeks ago, I frantically took a large stack of books out of the assorted luggage in order to make weight, but now they are here, too, safely shelved with their comrades. I have my own dresser, my own bed, my own desk, and my own closet. Looking around the bare white walls soon to be filled with pictures, I am glad. This is my room, my refuge. The past two weeks since moving to Wisconsin have been a time of marveling. This morning I marveled at the snow that snuck over the world outside while I slept, making everything magical and clean. Later, after a phone call from St. Arbucks, I marveled that I actually have a job now. And in the afternoon, I marveled that a church I don't attend is allowing me to practice on their piano every day. I even marveled when I cleaned the toilet. Yes, I know. That may sound strange. When you've cleaned the amount of toilets I have, though, there is something settling about the proc