For the first entire year of knowing him (as college freshmen) I had no idea.  He was an absolute scrub, and only seemed to associate with one girl in our hall.  But after some time, we began to find ourselves stuck in the same circle because of church, and I eventually learned who he "really was" - a rich heir of some movie-worthy impressive parents.  Fluent in French, rubbing elbows with the elite, with the duty of a family business on his shoulders.  Constantly flying off in the middle of the week to take care of said business(es).  Having access to these international events that I'd only ever dreamed about, and was quite disenchanted with the whole thing.  Perhaps his name isn't his real name.  Or is one of his many names.  Who knows?

Yet throughout our four years with our infrequent interactions, I didn't pry.  I just kept on hearing second-hand stories and marveling that such things actually did happen in real life.

Our last one-on-one encounter was at our senior appreciation dinner, where we were seated together.  I tried to make small talk (meanwhile, wondering if my carefully thought-out ensemble was up to his standards... probably not to be honest) and ended up asking what his plans were after graduation.  He said things were already planned out for him - he had to take his position in the business.  Instead of asking about the industry (which I am very much interested in), I asked him what his dream was, otherwise.  His response was one rather different than the work that he had been obliged to do.  It was a dream a lot classier - but still just as real - as any of ours, with the same reservations as to whether it would come true.  I smiled, wishing him luck that he would get to do it one day.

Keeping my window open to let in the fresh air and soft sunshine.  This is what home smells like.  Spring is upon us, and it is absolutely beautiful.  If that means exacerbating my pollen allergies, so be it haha

I'm beginning to realize that a lot of what I will end up teaching my kids will be in dispelling the lies that the world tells them.  I pray that God puts His love in them for themselves and for those around them, even when they come home crying because their hearts are "too soft" for the cruel world.  Let them take the blows, and search for ways to understand that hurt leads to hurt, but that they can stop the cycle.  Let them be soft to learn and grow in all directions.  Let them have straight spines and proud shoulders and expressive eyes that see the truth and show that truth to that same world that knocked them down.  I hope they know who to pray to when they don't know what to do, and that they have the guts to walk around a little empty every once in awhile instead of settling for garbage.  I pray that they learn that growing up will not be this grand transformation, but that they'll have to invest in who they want to be every step of the way.  And let them enjoy Your gift of life as Your children.

This city has a certain spirit that sees the beauty in the grey and the mist, and an energy that is uncorrelated with the weather.  A little rain never hurt anyone, anyway.  And when it's sunny, it's absolutely perfect.

If you'll take up an offer, you'll meet some really cool people.  Brave people who did things their way.  I got to listen to some unreleased secret songs from a certain famous Seattle artist off of the music collection of one of their insiders.

The Seattle Chill might be a real thing, but sometimes if you go with the flow it eventually clicks.