"This is my Life"

I've been saying this line frequently. When I'm upset or frustrated or something hillarious happens in my day, I've been saying with a sigh, "This is my life…" It's come out a bit grudgingly. Can you hear it? "This is my life…" When I vocalize it, it's like I'm admitting that this, whatever the case may be, just couldn't be the life I was intended to live. I spill coffee on my white shirt, "This is my life". I trip up the stairs, "This is my life". I run into an awkward boy in the SDR who can't find his words, "This is my life".

This morning I had breakfast with my Katelynn. We talked like we haven't talked in a while. We caught up, I guess you could say. That's what people usually call it when two friend tell each other where are they find themselves spiritually and get them up to date. But it wasn't quite like that. I mean, it was. But it was more than that. We walked away knowing where each other are spiritually but also having connected spiritually, speaking quiet phrases of affirmation into the other's life. Little words of hope were exchanged like the tiniest packages bearing the most precious gifts.

She's just so in my life. That's a funny sentence to re-read. But it's true. She's integrated, intertwined, enveloped in my life. How do I know? Because, even thought she spells her name unusually, spellcheck doesn't pick it up because I added it to the dictionary. I added it because I knew I would be typing it again and again and again. I know she's in my life because I know when she has to be to work and thatI need to tell her fifteen minutes earlier than necessary to start getting ready. Her manager likes me. I know she's in my life because I sewed a button on her scarf this morning and she called me "domestic". I know because her co-worker, Brandon, knows me well enough by now that he gave me free Starbucks yesterday and I sat at the bar and talked with him for 25 minutes. I know she's in my life because she said that after hearing me preach she knows me better. "It's like there was this tiny piece of you that I got to see," she said. "And I saw it and though, 'oh, right. That's totally Amy.' I've seen you one-on-one, in a group, in your room, at my house, with your family, with my family, but I had never seen you on stage. And yeah, I know you better now." I know because as we sat, me with my tea pot and she with her french press, I could lick the spoon and stir her coffee and then my tea. I know because we shared a plate of biscuits and I'm pretty sure we finished each other's halves. And it never really mattered.

She's in my life.

As we were preparing our goodbyes for the day, Chandler, my old roommate came in. She's off campus now, so she commutes and has made my room her home away from home. And I love it. We laughed and, in the brief ten minutes she was here, we made dinner plans for tomorrow night. She's going to make me shrimp and we're going to do what Katelynn and I did today. What do you call it again? Oh, right. We're going to "catch up".

Then Kate finally hurried off to work and Chan rushed to class, the door closed and so did my eyes. "I love You, Lord" I said. "This is my life".

Yes, this is my life. I think I may have forgotten that for a while. I've been abusing this statement, using it when frustrated or irritated. But this life of mine is full of wonderful, rich, cherished people.

This is my life.