Just so

Well, it took me about a week, but the last box is unpacked, the floor is mopped, the styrofoam particles are dustbusted, the pictures are up on the walls, the new furniture is assembled, and everything is in its right place.

I love putting things in their correct places and am a constant tidy-upper. So I thought unpacking all our stuff would be tons of fun. It wasn't that fun. We had to get creative in learning how to use a smaller space again. And with Paul working from home (out of our storage closet turned office- it sounds awful, but it's actually really cool), that took away lots of valuable space for other stuff that might have gone there. But we got creative and have used every nook and cranny and now we just can't accumulate anything else because there simply isn't room. And I think I kind of like it that way. Somehow, everything seemed to fit together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. It felt like we were saying this over and over again- It fits just so. That was just so. This was just so. Everything was, and is, just so.

And so I realize that everything in my life has been just so. This experience has led to that realization has led to this action has led to this outcome. This closed door led to this emotional process which led to this rational thinking which led to that particular choice. And so on and so forth. Somehow we also feel that this little neck of the woods we've landed on in LA fits us just so right now and we are really loving it. To fit in and feel your way around in a new place means you take on some of that city's values and culture. And while some things still perplex me about LA (there seem to be about 9 different rush hours), other things seem to be full of excellence (i.e. Vancouver-trained dim sum chefs) and excitement (microbrewery down the street) and I realize how much I love the diversity and color (we're right in between Filipino town and Armenia town) that a big city breathes day in and day out. A part of me feels alive again, the way it did in New York, stimulated by all the people and places so different from myself and contrary to my comfort zone. I feel my perspective change when I see the lady with a cart rummaging through our recycle bin for cans, making me step out of my self-centeredness for a moment. I feel my senses burst with excitement at seeing a gorgeous LA sunset (they are really nice here for some reason- must be the smog), tasting Cantonese-style deep fried crab (we discovered Monterey Park this weekend when my parents were in town), or hearing my neighbor down the street killing it on his drum set. I like hearing the ice cream truck come around at about 4 o'clock every day playing some sort of messed up variation on the Forrest Gump theme. I'm amused that the weather lady on the local news screams cleavage and botox. As arbitrary as they are, these are the kinds of things that make a city what it is and I'm soaking it all in. There was a sermon by Tim Keller that I heard awhile back that convinced me wholeheartedly that Christians should live in the heart of their city, love the city, pray for their city, and be the best civic participants of their city. I'm hoping that no matter where life leads I'll have the chance to do that and never forget how much God's heart breaks for the lady with the cart, the ice cream man, the weather lady, and the neighbor playing the drums. And so it starts here, in a neighborhood called Silver Lake in the heart of Los Angeles.

Pictures to come of this weekend when my parents were in town for my brother's baptism...it was full of, well you guessed it, lots and lots of tasty food.