Lately, the BF and I have been so excited about our imminent life changes that we have a hard time sleeping in.  That first moment of wakefulness gives way to, rather than the usual lazy descent back into sleep, thoughts of family and cars and space and yards. The prospect of sleep diminishes with each of these thoughts.  So when I woke up early this morning to get ready for work, I wasn’t entirely shocked a few minutes later after I emerged from the bathroom and found the BF sitting on the couch.  Which is nice, to have the company and all, but Sportscenter isn’t the most compatible background for prayer time.  So I decided to piggyback prayers onto my walk to work.

Thank God.

Usually I find it difficult to pray and do anything else at the same time (though that doesn’t stop me from constantly attempting it), but today the conversation between me and my Maker flowed easily–probably due to agreeable conditions on my end.  The air was cool and the streets were quiet.  I walked along and thoughts of this era ending began to spark some nostalgia, even sadness.

Then I crossed 2nd Avenue and almost got hit by a car.

Had I been a few steps further west, she would have hit me.  She and her carful of kids, windows open, not a care in the world. Until I instinctively yelled, “SHIT!  WATCH OUT!” and was met with wide-eyed child stares.  Oops.  I turned back to my path and my God and knew what would happen if I did not stay fixed on both.  So I sent up a new prayer: Help me not to let that woman determine the rest of my day.  Because I know me, and I am just the person who would allow that destruction.  But that accident had avoided me and bounced off a freshly-donned armor of prayer and I figured that if God can work through Sportscenter, then surely he can help me forget about idiot drivers.  And not call them idiots.  So I kept talking to him about it.  He gently reminded me of a few injustices he endured on my behalf, and that pretty much settled the issue.  But grace is not a one-time deal; it must be dwelled on, bathed in, repeatedly injected like Botox.  So what I’m saying is, that was an extended prayer time.

While I was at work, tucked safe and dry indoors, thunderstorms hit and passed and by the time I said goodbye to my last day at that office the sun was shining and the sidewalks were dry.  I indulged in a luxury I almost never allow myself: a solo cab ride.  I ended up at 77th and Columbus in line at Shake Shack, waiting for the BF to show up.  It was a bucket list afternoon.

As I waited, I picked up on the conversation between the two men behind me and of course kept listening, partly because I was bored and mainly because I’m nosy.  The older man said to the younger man, “So why do you want to marry my daughter?” and I thought, Hell yeah!  Entertainment! A few seconds went by and the older man asked, “Is that a hard question?”  Burn! The younger guy started talking about how he and the daughter had met through friends and started spending a lot of time together and both of them just woke up one day and thought of the other, “Hey, you’re a nice person!” and since then their lives have just melded together and it makes sense for them to go forward.

I bit my lip.  That was not what I would call a good answer.

The dad started talking about how, next to his wife, he loves his kids more than anything and he has always provided for them financially, emotionally, and spiritually.  And then he said the thing that (a) melted my heart, and (b) let me know that he might be the kind that prays on the way to work too.  He said, “I want you to tell me how you are going to provide for her spiritually and love her sacrificially.”

BOOM.  He was that kind of dad.  And at that moment, the BF walked up.  We spent the rest of the day eating cheeseburgers, drinking milkshakes, touring the Natural History Museum, and walking through Central Park.  New York is a completely different city when the weather is beautiful and you’re not being hit by cars.  And my life is on a completely different course than it was before I came here, back when I was constantly recovering from crashes.  Now, instead of looking up and asking for a bailout from the mess I created, I’m on a path that runs more closely with the One who helps me avoid those crashes.  And I’m sharing that path with the man who provides for me spiritually, loves me sacrificially, and aced all my dad’s questions.