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I spent yesterday at a cool multi-church event in San Antonio, Texas. It’s harder than ever to leave on business trips now that I have two little girls at home. Norah asked Candyce to call me last night as they were going to bed. Norah cried into the phone that she wanted me to hold her at her house. What on earth could be sweeter than that?

So last night in the hotel I watched a couple episodes of the Uniter or something like that. The premise of the show is that a dude (who incidentally is kind of odd) helps people find lost loved ones. One episode I caught was about three college-aged children searching for their drug-addicted mother who they had not seen in six years. Another episode was about a young mom who decided to search for her half-sister who was put up for an adoption as in infant to cover up her father’s affair. The good news is that on both shows the people were reunited with those they were looking for. The reunions were super dramatic because the host explains to the seeker what he’s learned about their lost family member, then he tells the people to turn around and their lost family member walks through the door. Everyone starts to cry and hug and sob. I got a little drippy too. How could I not? Seriously, I could cry right here right now on this airplane in seat 8A if I think about those reunion scenes.

What has stuck with me most about this show is that these people’s lives were consumed with the desire to find the lost members of their family. Through every day of their lives, they ached inside because of their loss. I can’t even imagine what that pain must be like. How blessed I am to know everyone in my family, to know that I can call them and have a happy conversation whenever I feel like it.

I don’t know. The more I look around, the more I realize how blessed I am.

:::

So in seven months I will graduate with my MBA. That’s just two more trimesters. Having time off of work for paternity leave has given me a glimpse of my life was like before graduate school and what I can expect in the spring—less stress and more fun. Plus I’ll have time to catch up on every other part of my life that I placed on a two-year hold. It’s like heaven is waiting for me in May. I am so glad that I entered grad school when Norah was just 12 months old. It would be almost impossible to have pulled this thing off with more little ones at home.

My battery is dying. So it’s time to finish up and read some more of my new John Grisham book.

I hang my ironed clothes along the top of the wainscoting that wraps my living room and kitchen. When I am finished and all of my clothes are all pressed, I gather them together and head upstairs to hang them in my closet. These pants? All subtle variations of khaki. Notice, too, that they’re hung against white paneling that stretches beneath a taupe wall covered with white and black framed photos. The rest of my house looks pretty much the same.

And if you want to look beyond this very photo, you’ll notice my website looks pretty much the same way. Yes, I designed my home and my website with the same palette.

Both of my cars are black.

The reason why I record this here is that it’s ridiculous that I’m so enamored by neutral colors. For my entire life I’ve been fixed on anything bright and obnoxious. I was once famous for having a 40-piece Hawaiian shirt collection. I even wrote a blog years ago about my infatuation with the color purple.