Spend a Day in My Shoes.  My day begins uninterestingly.  I wake up around 7:15 am, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, brush my hair, make my lunch, and head out the door. 

My commute to work means driving to my grandparent's house, walking down to the MUNI station, hopping on a train, and then walking 3 short blocks to my school.  Today I am running late.  I fumble for my fast pass before entering the turnstile, doing my best to avoid the campaigning politicians clamoring to pass out flyers to the morning commuters.

I stride across the station platform, catching a glimpse of the same guy that always seems to be on the same morning train as me.  There are no seats today on the train, so I stay standing, peering over some old notes from the Gospel of Luke while pressing my fingers gently against the wall of the train to stay upright. 

The train stops in the financial district.  I walk up the stairs to the street level--a conscious decision of mine to infuse some sort of exercise to my day.  I catch my breath once finally reaching the top and quickly glance at the clock positioned above the bank.  I'm on time.  I reach my school and flash my badge to the security guard that I introduced myself to over a week ago.  He seems to have never remembered that conversation, and I've since resigned to pulling out my badge each time I enter the door. 

My morning goes by swiftly.  As usual, I'm multitasking, never keeping a strict priority of items, but maintaining a semblance of order through a system of Microsoft Outlook reminders and Post-It notes.  This morning I am meeting with two students. My first student is a football junkie who doesn't typify an art student.  He's honest and eager to learn, yet somehow wound up on academic probation.  My second student is Korean.  She arrives in a flurry with her drawing board and also leaves in a flurry.  She seems more confident than when I saw her last semester, but I know she has a tough semester ahead. 

I like to spend my lunch hour alone, my favorite place being a block away in a public promenade.  It has become a sacred place to journal and read Scripture.  The time is always too brief, but it's a much needed retreat from my work day.  Today as I am reading the first two chapters in Luke I start to get excited to be studying this book.  It's the gospel directed to a Gentile audience that speaks of a personal Jesus who came to save a girl like me.

In the afternoon I switch offices to the satellite office down the street. It's quieter here, and on some days I'm bored to my numbskulls, but today I have lots to do in preparing for my class on Wednesday.  A student that was supposed to meet me on Friday winds up showing up today instead.  She's a fashion student with slight attention deficiency disorder looking for some help with time management.  She's already behind in her classes and a cynical part of me wonders if she can really pull it off this semester to get decent grades.   

I start reading a book on Adobe Photoshop for the Graphics Design class that I do the ESL support for on the train ride home.  I unintentionally doze off, maintaining just enough consciousness not to miss my stop.  Back at home I resolve to go running, debating in my head if I should run the full 4 miles around the lake or just half.  My legs carry me in the direction of only running half.  My legs today feel heavy, even though I know that I'm proven to run twice the distance.  

I impromptly start muttering under my breath in conversation with the Lord as I take my walk around the block to cool down.  There's much to speak to Him about, and in the midst of my day there is sometimes only faint acknowledgement of His presence.  But I know that He has been with me.  And though it's an ordinary day, it is a day that the Lord has made.  Sometimes I want more out of day for me to resolutely give Him thanks.  But He is more than enough, and I retire from my day pleased that He has been a part.