Night Mosaic

Taxi's hurry by the main entrance to our apartment. Many nights, Debbie and I stand on our living room balcony on the 7th floor and look at the street below and the main gate - which is never closed.

From my office window in our spare bedroom on Hongqiao Road, the view at night overlooks postage stamp windows of light, each representing a family, a story, a life. I even speculated about one for a writing contest I entered - the results of which I haven't heard.




We are moving today to a townhouse down the street and which is on the first two floors. It sits about a half mile back from the Hongqiao Road. No taxi horns to hear. No construction sounds. A guard stops every pedestrian, every vehicle from entering without getting his approval. A much more quiet, gentler place reminding me of something that might be found in the deep south of the United States.

Why move? More room for entertaining new friends, and far less dust. The dust from the construction sites around our apartment coated everything, causing us to have to clean constantly just to keep up with it. My laptop keys often felt gritty, which is bad thing in the world of computers.

The townhouse will have little of that. Lovely trees planted in every yard, side-by-side, form an umbrella over our new place. My office will be on the second floor overlooking . . . leaves.

Bigger, cleaner, nicer, and certainly more quiet but, I hope, not boring.

I must admit that I'm going to miss the view from the busy street called, Hongqiao Lu. But to be in the middle of life, you have to be willing to put up with the dirt that comes with it. That's the "life lesson" I'm getting from this move. Touching people with the love of Jesus means putting up with the dust, noise and progress of the construction that is taking place. Initially, it may not be pleasant. But the end result will be beautiful and worth it.