I will look back at this winter and remember it as driving around slowly, in the snowy dark, listening to Malcolm Gladwell read me his books.

And it's beautiful. All of it. I stood in Sprouts the other day with an armful of veggies, and thought, "I can't believe that I'm lucky enough to get up and do this all over again tomorrow." And that is something I've been waiting 20 years to feel again. Dependent on nothing but God's mercy.