pay it forward, baby.

I sent my thumb drive through the spin cycle. Where the water is.

My Dad told me to put it in a jar of rice. I think he's cracked. I googled "What to do if you run your thumb drive through the washer," and the results were split. Half of the hits told me to chill it out, it'll work again. The other half involved smiley-faces, and snarky references to "cleaning out your files."

Regardless, this is a good lesson in data back-up before I hit the abyss of my thesis. And, oddly, a lesson in thankfulness.

I spoke with a friend this morning who has much larger problems than a soggy thumb drive. Her family life is falling apart. She doesn't like herself. She feels as though she has no place to turn. She's always keyed up, and stressed, and clinging to the one thing that she feels good about: work. Unfortunately, as she pointed out, you can divorce your hubby, but you can't give your kids back. There is, necessarily, more than work to be dealt with. Her life is real. Her problems are flat-out confrontational.

Though I want her to be happy, I can't fix her life. I wouldn't if I could. Self-discovery can tank you, but if you're lucky, you come out the other end to something far greater. So I can listen. And share what little bit of wisdom I've been blessed with in 25 years. And be calm, and content, and seeking, and as smart and kind as possible, and offer free baby-sitting, and casseroles, and hope that all of that will somehow help her.

In the meantime, I can learn from her. I wouldn't wish her troubles on her, but since they're there...

As I left her this morning, I felt so grateful. I love my studies. I love my job. I love the (sometimes) loony people I've surrounded myself with. Though I am often frustrated with the spiritual terrain of the world, I think my faith is where it needs to be. My parents and I get along--we talk almost every day--who would have ever thought it? I like the way my mind works, and the conversations I have with friends, and the way I find delight in the smallest details of life. I am intensely grateful for the way in which God seems to have settled Himself over me, guiding me through these first 25 years of my life.

I don't know that I deserve all of this. But I have it. How will I give it out?