As this written we're sitting in the 37th story condo of our middle daughter Amy. It's in Chicago and there are a lot of ups and downs here in the windy (and at the moment - cold) city. At least the sun is out and flowers are beginning to bloom along Michigan Avenue and Wacker Drive. I haven't seen that much on State Street where she lives - but then, I don't think State Street is noted for its flower beds.
We rode the train from Michigan yesterday - it took five hours but it's a really pleasant way to go - even if you end up in the darkness of Union Station's dungeon platforms. And there are subways even darker - but you end up in the sunlight on an elevated railroad towering over the streets.
Then there are places like Amy and Vic's condo. It's a long way up. But there's more - you can ride an elevator up to the roof - the sixtieth floor. We went up on the roof a year or so ago to watch an air show - it was outstanding. Exhilarating. And a great opportunity to experience vertigo - which I get anywhere over three stories up. You can imagine what it is like for me to go out on the balcony and look down from 37 stories on the Chicago Theater (near Macy's across the river) and on tour boats cruising up and down the Chicago River. Then look up at skyscrapers like the Sears Tower to the south of Amy and Vic's building. By the way, her building is one of two condo towers that make up the Marina City complex (which also has the House of Blues music facility) It also is called by some "the corncob condos" because they look like ears of corn. So for a short time we are living high on the hog, so to speak. A real change from our second floor senior condo where you don't hear sirens and fire engines 24 hours a day.
I got to reflecting this morning: it's just like life. Sometimes we live in the depths of darkness when it seems as if everything is wrapped up in darkness. Sometimes we find ourselves emerging into the brightness of an encouraging day. Sometimes we find ourselves down low
in the pits of discouragement and darkness and frustration. Then there are the highs of life - the days when we ride high on the sixtieth floor of life - or like the Sears Tower, or Hancock building and the world is spread our before us revealing the best things of life. Or maybe hiding the dismal side of life. I have a hunch we all have moments when we fall into ruts and we find a need to break away to get a different view of life. I know I do. At any rate, even if I don't like heights it's great to get a new and expanded view of life. So, I'm glad for this moment of life - for family - for a great view on life - and for tomorrow when we drive to Indianapolis to see another segment of our family. The sun is shining and I like to think it's God smiling on us this morning.