a peaceful sunday

One of the things I loved about my days in Japan was that beauty seemed ubiquitous... in the most ordinary. Flower lined stoops of tiny houses, a delicate plum blossom on a snowy morning, glimpse of the glittering Sumida river from a JR train. I don't think there is more beauty to be found in Tokyo than here in Eagle Rock, in sprawling Los Angeles. For whatever reason --my youth or the foreignness of it all, the loneliness -- life seemed inexplicably so so pretty in Japan. I don't get lost in those moments here, driving from one interview to another, poring over copy at work, cleaning our apartment or laughing with friends.

But today, I was able to rest in a moment so ordinary and so beautiful. I sat across from my husband eating dinner, and as we talked about friends, theology and food, I couldn't help but smile at how close I felt with him. And the same warmth that I felt in my stomach when he first smiled at me, the same flutter of the heart -- I felt again. Today, I was able appreciate the gorgeous sunset that splashed across the sky, today I was able to lose myself in cooking, today I was able to worship a God who sets me free - "no guilt in life and no fear in death."