I so often sit on my little computer at work,
This place which is my cave
And type little thoughts – here and there
Intending to do something with them…
Anything.
Expose them to the world,
Yet they get lost in the mess of emails and busyness.

So I guess there is a good intention.

And writings, even if hidden in some obscure gmail folder,
Is still writing.

I suppose.

We found an apartment.
We have been in a little limbo for the past 2 months. Hiding out in Ricky’s sisters old bedroom in his parents home.
Stashing away some mad cash (saving 2 months of southern California rent is like obtaining a goldmine)
To cushion this transition from working girl to 24/7 momma.

Our place is a gem of all gems.
Tucked away in my favorite part of San Diego.
One block from a late night coffee shop with only couches and lounging chairs,
A cute shop that offers sewing lessons, and homemade ice cream store.

It’s large (for here)… has character and love, and the windows let in a breeze.

I find life is such a struggle to stay awake, alive, content, happy, free.
Maybe it’s not like that for everyone – but for me, it is.

I’m one haunted by glimpses that freckle the face of my past.
These glimpses are of things grander and greater than myself,
Than my world, than my job and my husband and my daily tasks.

It’s this One.

He’s alive, He’s roaring, He’s weeping, He’s shouting, He’s rumbling, and He’s Coming.

And I’ve had glimpses that blinded my little soul.

Moments where I exited here and entered there…
Mments where the mere memory causes tears to well up and my heart to ache.
Like a long lost lover than fled in the greatest moments of emotion.

When I met Ricky – he was a surprise to my little life.
I didn’t expect him, nor even want him to come inside this heart.

I had things set and planned and I was after one thing.
To touch that place again.

He knocked, and kept knocking, and I would shoo him away in my little soul
And declare my intention to never talk to him again day after day in my journal.

I would go to the prayer room and thoughts would float to this man in California.

And I would become enraged. ENRAGED.

He was inconvenient. He was rough around his edges were cutting through my bubble I had blown to secure my world.

But this thing within Ricky reached me deeply – and pulled me in, despite all intentions to keep my distance,
And that was there was something he had I needed.

I knew it. I knew it deep within.

I needed it, and so often I forget… so often I get lost in the ocean of apartment hunting, and baby registering, and grocery shopping, and file scanning, and all the other mundane that mark my life these days.

I forget when he comes home from work or asks me to iron his shirt or kisses my shoulder.

Even then I forget.


Ricky sings this little song with his life, with his being –
That awakens the beauty of the Lord in the mundane.
in the apartment finding, and baby preparing, and dinner making, and desk working.

His essence declares,
“He’s here, Tiffany, even here.”


Thank You Jesus.



This man was the gift I never knew I needed.

[08.30.2010]