It's the piggy back rides that I give to the children, the tickle games, the giggling all around me, it's also the crying and the whining, the learning and the patience, the specific times when the girls need a hug, when Miriam sits on my lap and cuddles against my chest, the kisses, and the rocking to sleep, the encouragement, the smiles, the high fives, the silly quirks, the knowledge growing inside of them, the need of affection, the need of dicipline, and the fact that I am finally taking care of someone else instead of someone taking care of me, the fact that I can relate to Jesus in this way, but at the same time I can't, for He is holding me as I show His love and grace by holding the children.

New York is the place where I don't strive to be grown up, but I am. It's a wonderful feeling, yet a terrifying feeling. It's exhilarating whenever I get on the subway with companions, it's fun when buying groceries with Cara. I'm learning so much this year, probably more than I learned last year. One thing that I'm learning is that I'm a slow learner; I'm slowly beginning to learn how to pray and understand what prayer means, I'm beginning to understand what it means to read the Bible and comprehend Christ in every word.

I like New York. But God is bigger than New York, and it makes me really like Him.