...because you do not ask

I am learning this. Slowly.

For one, the apartment. A housing opportunity that arrives in my email inbox, seemingly unbidden, and turns out to be the exact sort of place we need and earnestly want. A south-facing balcony and no extra fees? The largest apartment I've seen for the price, with a reasonable security deposit for once? It seems almost too easy, but then I remember: I asked for this months ago. Another case in point: Karl's 28th birthday today. Despite few provisions and little time, even the sun alters his agenda to come out for the occasion, in favor of smiling upon a rather impressive assembly of friends and family drunk on happy occasion and lilac smells. What a night. He's asleep on the couch with his mouth hanging open, and I'm beaming around me at the littered tables. What a glorious thing. And then I remember: this was something I had asked for. It was this afternoon, while hanging desperately on the phone line with several friends at once, aimlessly wishing for something to come together, I finally put it in the right set of hands, asking Him to make something excellent come about. And this, our pleasure, is the work of His grace. Happy and tired, what else is there to do but just say thanks?

(Thanks.)