It's not the slow-paced life and friendly faces of Boulder City that made me daydream about raising my kids behind their picket-fenced houses.
It's not the warm air and sunshine and even warmer smiles, the mountains and beaches of SoCal that made me sad to leave.
It's cloudy and rainy and snowy and when was the last time I saw the sun?
The faces don't smile back on the sidewalk.
The most magnificent cathedrals line every street, but nobody goes inside them.
It's cold here. Really cold.
It's a city that thirsts for knowledge over wisdom, man-made beauty over creation, appearances over authenticity, and aristocracy over loving thy neighbor.
A city where I'm not smart enough, pretty enough, busy enough, posh enough, or classy enough.
It's a city that fights for everything I struggle against.
Somebody told me a lie, that in order to be valued, important, successful, I have to constantly be doing.
That even when I go to bed with a heavy heart, aching muscles, and a tired mind - there was still more that I could have done.
That my greatest accomplishments are actually somebody else's greatest failures.
That I must be my own "tiger mom", constantly struggling for bigger, better, and greater.
But Francis Chan says, "Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter."
And Jesus says, "You're blessed when you've lost it all... It's trouble ahead if you're satisfied with yourself."
Blessed may I be.
