A Lesson in Faith on the Corner of 52nd and 8th

Urban Hallelujah

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It was on the corner of 52nd and 8th that I wept.

I wept helplessly over lukewarm coffee and dry chocolate cake, in an uncomfortable green leather booth, at one of the only Manhattan diners that seemed to be open that late at night.

Just hours before, my husband had been offered his dream job in New York City. And after high fiving each other in the elevator on the way out of the office, it didn’t take long for reality to set in.  Just 2 floors down to be exact!

We would be moving to Manhattan in just 5 weeks…

5 weeks to say our goodbyes to the people who we loved (and who knew nothing about our intentions of leaving)… 5 weeks to sell our house, our two cars, and nearly all our possessions as we would be moving from a 4-bedroom house in suburbia to a 1-bedroom…

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