Philly for $3 Parking

About once a year I take a trip into center city Philly.  I always try new ways of parking to enjoy the city on a budget.  Yesterday I took a trip with my wife to show her the sights.  Hoping to make it an especially enjoyable day, I avoided the all day walking trips I tend to make to save on parking.  To my surprise, we only spent $3 parking even though we kept the car with us all day.  

Past trips to Philly have taught me a number of available parking options in the city.  I learned that I can park for free in the University City district and walk from the 30s down to center.  I have also tried the valet parking lots that charge less but make you leave your key.  I think these have run me about $15 for all day permission and they get me in the teen or 20 blocks from the time I leave the car.  Once or twice I have bought the garage parking on Arch street near the intersection of 10th street.  It is pricey but super convenient.  

Today we went from South Philly to Reading Terminal Market, sampling some of the crucial stops for $3 parking.  We went on a Wednesday, and we started the day with a cheesesteak from Geno’s.  I parked at 4th and Reed in free two hour parking and we took a twenty minute stroll to lunch.  It would have been super easy, but the sun was very hot yesterday. After the steak, we made our way back to the car.  I saw a bit of additional free parking, but not many  open spots before mine.  The art museum steps and the Rocky statue were my wife’s top hopes for the trip so we went there next.   We parked across from 1821 Fairmount Ave, right near the Eastern State Penitentiary.  Once again, we had two hour free parking.  This gave us time to take the twenty minute walk to the Museum steps, pose with Rocky despite the line, goof around on the steps, and return to the car.  We even bought a cold drink on the walk and still had half an hour to spare when we got back to the car.  There was even more free parking between my spot and the museum.  Directly in front of the Eastern State Penitentiary were 3 hour free parking spots.  And right around where 25th or so meets Pennsylvania Ave., there were many free spots for the Art Museum.  4 hour spots that would have allowed a relaxed tour inside or a few quick photos around the city.  

We thought about ending the day there because it was quite hot and we were convinced we could return to the city another day.  But I was reluctant to miss out and suggested we see two more sights from the car.  We drove past City Hall and my wife took a glimpse at the famous massive building.  Then we drove right up to the Friendship Archway installed at the entrance to Chinatown.  I had Jeni step out and snap a photo while I stayed in the car on the side of the road long enough for her to be there.  We were accidentally a few blocks from Reading Terminal Market, one of the only other spots we had hoped to see.  We drove the length of the market slowly slowly slowly with the telltale windows and signs out our left window.  With eyes peeled for a spot, we found one two blocks past the market very near a bowling alley with a massive pin painting to announce its function.  It was $3 an hour with a 1 hour limit until 4pm and a 3 hour limit after.  We paid for an hour and shopped the market at a leisurely pace.  

I am quite happy with our trip from yesterday.  We saw a great sampling of the most popular places in the city.  We did miss the Love statue as well as the giant game pieces nearby.  I am sure that others would recommend more sights, but this was a fabulous start.  I will keep building my knowledge of the city, and in the meantime I am glad for any budget Philly tricks anyone can offer.

robertctimlin@gmail.com

Coslada: You Could Live Here

As awesome as travel is, most of us want to spend part of our lives feeling at home. We like to have a place that feels familiar. Know the neighbors, know the parks, know which restaurants are worth it. Coslada, Spain would be a nice place to make home.

Coslada is separated from but near Madrid proper. You can get to the Llao llao, the churros, the tourist streets any day of the week.  But you also have a sense of rest. You have more breathing space, the pace is reduced.

There is a fabulous school in Coslada that you can send your students to. I have examined IES Miguel Catalán from the inside out and I am super impressed. The teachers are brilliant and hard working, the students are respectful and sincere, the resources are substantial. And the café sells healthy 1€ breakfasts on campus.

There is a fabulous sports complex in my part of Coslada with nets and courts for everything: basketball, soccer, paddle, tennis, track, a weight room, and possibly more.  

The other week I found the biblioteca municipal de Coslada and I enjoyed perusing some of their books in the world languages sections. Books in German, France, Italian, English, and Romanian.

There are numerous small town businesses so you can choose one to make a regular haunt. I love showing up at cafetería la gargola for a late morning coffee. I greet the owner by name and he tells me jokes about his life.

Coslada has everything you need for a nice hometown. It is a little less busy than Madrid, but full of life.  The public services are excellent. The public spaces are attractive, and you'll laugh when you meet my café owner.

La Insula del Principito

Today I ate an amazing three course meal in Alcalá de Henares. The lunch structure of Spain is splendid but I had a lot of disappointing experiences with the food served this year. Today was completely different!

La Insula del Principito has been calling to me for a few months now. I walk past it once a week on my way to the university. Its banner depicts both Antoine's Little Prince AND Miguel de Cervantes' Don Quijote, a double nerd enticement. I sensed deep in my soul that anyone that can manage that double alusion would do something special with their food and drink. The hunch was proved so true!

My first course, since I ordered the menú del día, was a greens salad with goat cheese. I love this combination. The goat cheese was served in delicious thick circles and complimented by a fine olive oil. A variety of small crisp seeds on top of a few slices of red tomato added to the dish and a dash of cranberry preserves made it perfect. After I devoured the salad I sopped up the remaining dressing and seeds with a piece of my fresh baguette.

The second course was called "secreto con chimichurri" and it was mouthwatering. Thick juicy ham cuts that were extremely tender formed the main part of the dish. Fried potato quarters added substance and the chimichurri gave them an exciting flare. Once again  I had a little delicious juice left over to enjoy with a bit of my baguette.

Coffee or dessert is included in the menu. Today I decided to take the dessert and add the coffee on top to experience everything.  I finished my meal with an amazing crema catalana and a comfortingly bitter hot coffee.  The crema catalan is the consistency of pudding and just as sweet as ice cream. The topmost layer is crystalized table sugar.

The waitress was kind and patient and the customers appeared to be all repeat consumers.  I cannot wait for an excuse to return and show someone new the pleasure of this delicious restaurant.

Small Town Honduras

My wife told me I have un corazón del pueblo. I’ve been in Honduras for the last 10 days and one of my favorite parts was seeing the towns in our area.  Most people who visit know of the capitol city, Tegucigalpa, but there are so many sights to see outside of that area.  Our family lives in the previous capital of the country - La Paz.  Yesterday we took a lightning tour of three towns in La Paz.  

The first town we stopped in was Cane.  The sign said it was famous for its open skies.  My wife told me that it is also known for being super hot because of those open skies and the lack of mountain shade.  In Cane we stopped on a small road to visit a well known sculpture.  It was a larger-than-life sized sculpture of Jesus on a pillar of cement decorated like an ocean. A massive decorated staircase led up to the statue.  From the top of the stairs we had a close up view of the skillfully shaped statue and an amazing view of the farmland and treeland behind it.  I loved this destination and thought I would visit it often if I lived in the country.  It even had mini stores at the bottom of the stairs for a cold drink or snack while you visited.   

After Cane we took a visit to Leja Mani.  The park was beautiful.  We passed near a lit arch and a peaceful gazebo. There were many trees flourishing in the tropical climate. We took a quick drive to a town we did not park in called Ajuterique. We drove past beautiful creative sculptures of musical instruments and a large shelter of colorful umbrellas hung up over a tiny street.

After a short visit to to a small local city, we drove home to my favorite town - La Paz, La Paz.  Here I love to rest in my family’s hammocks on the massive family patio.  The outdoor space is bigger than the enclosed section of the home.  We eat family meals in the third part of the house, the dining room/family room with one open wall to the patio.  There are some great restaurants to enjoy here too.  One of my new favorites is the Chill Box where I ordered the “hamburguesa de cinco estrellas” yesterday.  It lived up to its name!  I loved the flavor of the burger topped with sausage, egg, plantain, avocado, and a sweet thin mayonnaise.   I ordered mine with the optional side of yuka.  Today we ate another delicious meal at “Ricas Pupusas al Paso”.  Imagine double thick tortillas filled with melted cheese that you use to grip pickled onions and cabbage.  It is a fabulous meal for a delightful family outing.

It’s nice to get beyond the famous cities of a country when you visit.  If you have the chance to make it to Honduras, you  can enjoy these three towns we visited and the beautiful La Paz, La Paz.  Each of the four have a unique draw and a unique personality.  Come and check them out!

My First Try at Tortilla de Patata

Yesterday, I tried my hand at making tortilla de patatas.  I have been in Spain 8 months and I have been enjoying this food since I arrived.  I took down the recipe of my local cafe-owner/bartender and waited for a moment I felt like I had time for a project.  My first attempt was fun and it was also a major fail!

300 grams of potatoes

6 eggs

These are the ingredients the cafe owner Benedicto, told me to use.  I added a bit of chopped onion. I the chopped the potatoes fine and small.  I fried them in olive oil with the onion.  I smashed them and stirred them as they fried like I had interpreted Benedicto’s instructions.  

It was time to combine the potatoes and eggs.  I remembered for sure that Benedicto had told me to drain the excess oil I had fried the potatoes in.  I drained it and placed the potatoes in a clean frying pan.  I mixed the 6 eggs together, making sure all of the yolks were broken.  I poured them on top of the potatoes and started to fry it all on medium heat.  

I stirred the mixture a bit as it fried to keep anything from sticking and burning.  I excitedly observed it solidifying in the pan, waiting for the moment I had heard about - the flip.  The idea is to flip the pan upside down and dump the now solid tortilla onto a plate.  Then you put the tortilla back in the pan upside down to finish frying.  I feel proud of my tortilla up to and only up to this point in the process.    

I confirmed the tortilla was solid enough to survive the flip.  I psyched myself up and quickly turned the pan upside down with a plate ready to catch my food.  Egg dripped onto the plate, but the bulk of the tortilla stayed put.  I shook the plate, hopeful.  Still stuck.  I had to resort to shoveling and scraping my tortilla out with the mixing spoon.  Once I had it out I transferred my non-tortilla shaped mess into a clean pan and finished frying it up like a batch of scrambled eggs.  

I am preparing for a second attempt!

A New Beach

It's always a win when you find a new place to beach. This past month I traveled to the  NorthWestern border of Spain. I enjoyed a beautiful beach town there called Nigran. It is 30 minutes from the Vigo airport and it feels particularly peaceful.

The chance to swim in the ocean is the obvious draw for this town of 18,000 people. I visited in the final days of April.  My Pennsylvania mindset told me that April is way too early to be in the ocean but I found the water to be just warm enough to swim in. I enjoyed the water immensely as I jumped through small waves near a beautiful natural rock bridge.

There are various places to snack near the ocean. I visited the local crepary called Creperie Bretonne Annaick. I chose a lemon sorbet from the ice cream menu, and it was delicious.  This coffee and crepe stop has a unique feel with a brightly painted hippy bus parked inside.  The biggest surprise of my trip was encountering el Mono Patin Skate Cafe.  It is in Nigran, right next the hotel where we stayed.  I went in with my fiance to have a coffee and I saw a a reduced sized skateboard halfpipe in the shop!  Sure that it was too whimsical to be true, I asked the shop owner if customers can skate on the half-pipe.  

“Yeah, they can.”

“But they have to bring their own board, right?”

“No, I’ll show you the ones you can borrow.”

And so, between bites of my pastry, I tried my hand at the skateboarding I had left behind 15 years ago. According to my fiance, I did zero impressive things on that ramp.  But my heart smiled with the energy of skater vibes and unusual surprises.

During one of our afternoons I decided to join the bus trip that crossed the border to Portugal.  We entered a beautiful town called Valenca, one hour from our beach town: Nigran.  Valenca is most notable for its wall defense system, reconstructed in 1643.  The sharp angles and changes in elevation in the defense system now serve to give the town a stunning air of beauty.  I had the distinct sense that this town is now very much a tourist stop, but tourism has not erased the beauty of its construction and vistas.  

In Nigran there are multiple hotels available.  I stayed in the Residencia de Tempo Libre de Panxon, which is a government boosted hotel business.  It was simple but comfortable, with a sense of tranquility.  Some of the rooms look out onto the ocean and others have a small terrace with a view of the town.  There are large rooms available for meetings and gatherngs downstairs and I found those rooms to be particularly beautiful.  There is also a cafeteria that served our group of 200 daily meals.  

Nigran is a peaceful and pleasant beach town, that has a sense of being undiscovered.  The ocean rolls onto the sand near  beautiful rock outcroppings and small cafes. It has a whimsical variety of snacking experiences and is close enough to Portugal for an afternoon adventure.  I am excited to return to this unique town.   

No One Stole My Suitcase

I traveled to Vigo, Spain this week on a tiny plane. When I got to baggage claim everyone was gone. My bag was all alone on the baggage claim belt, waiting for me unbothered. It is an attractive bag that looks expensive and it brought to mind a familiar question- why had no one tried to steal my bag?  I see three possible motives for resisting the urge and I think each motive says a lot about humankind.

My first theory is optimisitic. No one stole my bag because people feel connected to their fellow travelers. We got off the plane and everyone knew how tiring it is to wait for the items you need to function (clothes, toothbrush, razor) to arrive. To stand at the conveyor belt and hope that no one messes up, and that you can put your pajamas on that night when you sleep.

My second theory is laziness and lack of desperation. The people on my flight were only interested in finding their own suitcase. They wanted to go home or start vacation. They did not want a second suitcase when they already had one to lug out of the airport. And since everyone had a suitcase, no one felt a driving need to steal an extra one. This theory reminds me of a similar natural experiment in my college years. I regularly left my laptop unattended in the library for short times. Everyone working there had a laptop since we were all full time undergrads and that mutual abundance decreased any urges to steal.

My final theory is fear.  The people on my flight internalized the airport's reputation for being powerful. The decreased security of that moment in baggage claim did not override their memories of security guards and highly patrolled passages.  No one stole my bag because no one was willing to face the consequences of stealing.  

Whatever held back theft that day in the airport  made it easy for me to enjoy my trip. I left the airport with my clothes, deoderant, and toothbrush securely packed. In reality, I believe the theories interact with each other  and that empathy, laziness and fear worked together discouraging  many possible robberies the week I went to Vigo.

Maybe you should just stay home…

6 months into anything, I start to feel discouraged.  The thrill of change is gone.  The crisis of re-learning slows to a steady effort.  I miss the people I moved away from.  I learn the difficulties of my new role.  I am 8 months into my move across the Atlantic.  So I am going to tell you some of the reasons I noticed that a person might be happier staying  home.  And by staying home I mean not moving away from the country.  Visiting other places, but always keeping the residence in the mother-land.

On a practical note, the paperwork of changing countries is a constant stressor.  The first years abroad are often granted in short permissions.  I received a one year permission to reside in Spain.  About halfway through the year I had to find a way to be granted another year long stay.  It is mentally challenging to live somewhere and wonder if you will get kicked out when your papers expire.  And mine was a privileged move with choice and finances.

In addition to the paperwork to live abroad, finding a good income is very tricky.  It is doable possible here in Spain, but the additional legal considerations are overwhelming.  A person in a new country needs to figure out which government(s) they owe taxes to, what work permission they have or do not have, and how they are going to convince an employer to sponsor the next permission to reside in the country.  

I am also  convinced that fitting in abroad is a myth.  Despite practicing the local language 15 years, I am immediately recognizable as an outsider.  Many times I am happy to play this role and my community here shows me love and support despite my foreignness.  But from time to time the sense of being separate hurts a lot.  I feel it most during meals when everyone is laughing at jokes I almost understood but did not quite catch.  Or at celebrations when there is no one I completely relate to and I feel very different from everyone as I chat and visit.

Beyond the individual challenges, your family needs you and you need them.  If no one practically needs you now, someone will while you are abroad.  And the hard thing is that moving abroad usually involves a commitment to a job or community.  You can’t hop a plane and leave unless there’s some kind of emergency need and leaving means losing the sub-par income you found abroad. You might not find a way to regain that job in the future.  You really need your family too even if you feel a strong call to explore and spread your wings.

All of these reasons might show you that you are better off staying home.  If you have anything less than a strong desire to live in another country, do not force yourself to make the move.  If you do have that strong desire, or divine guidance to make the move - go taking care of yourself.  Prepare for the hardships of the factors above.  Keep yourself connected to people you love.   I think my fate is to be in Spain for this span of time.  I have also found so much happiness here, that the painful things are fairly easy to bear.   This will not be everyone’s experience.  Moving to a new country requires bravery and a willingness to take big risks.  But living with purpose in the country of your grandparents’ requires the same admirable traits.  

Hooks in my Routine

A hook is a regular occurrence in your life that initiates a routine. It is not clock based but instead it is based on actions, location, or situation. They are figurative places on which we figuratively hang our habits.  Many of the hooks I keep in my life are crucial for bringing me peace.  All hooks are neglected at some point whether for a day or for years.  Because they are enforced by routine, re-initiating a hook is quite doable.

At various points in my life I have used the hook of waking up to practice gratitude. I pray 3 thank yous before I get ready for work. I aim to make these thank yous simple and avoid the many stressful topics that await me every morning. I share gratitude for things like a good bed, a strong body, a warm flat.

A loved one who helps me care for the world recently gifted me a reusable water bottle.  I remember to fill it at the end of my  packing hook.  This hook includes putting some change in my pocket and placing my wallet, phone, pens, and keys in my pants.  Then I check my bag for the materials I will need to teach the day´s lessons.  On an organized day, I fill my water bottle right after I pack my bag.  This prepares me for a more comfortable hour-long commute to work and gives me a ready-packed drink for my big breakfast.

On a work day the park is my next crucial hook.  I  look at my phone on the way out my front door to check messages and reply to anything pressing.  Anything that is undone in the three minutes it takes me to reach the park must wait until the metro.  My phone goes away and I take time to think.  I walk through the park for 10 minutes on the way to my metro.  I try to find one coherent reflection for the walk whether it is a decision I need to make in the next few days, or an evaluation of the recent past.   

Arrival is one of my favorite hooks on a work day.  As soon as I get to my school I purchase a large 2 Euro breakfast at the school cafe.  I take it outside and eat in silence.  I do not allow myself to do any problem solving or planning during breakfast.  It is a time for stillness and for waving at any students that pass by my picnic.  My favorite memories of my arrival hook are the cold winter mornings when the sun was rising just as I finished my breakfast.  The darkness lent an extra layer of peace, and the steaming heat of the breakfast made it all the more beautiful in the winter chill. 

Ideally, the last hook in my day is saying goodbye to my fiance and her mom before I walk home to sleep.  We talk to God for a few minutes together to ask for guidance and share gratitude.  I give my mother-in-law  two Spanish kisses and my fiance walks me to the door.  I kiss her goodnight and she waves to me from the window when I get downstairs.  

I cherish the peace of these special hooks in my routine. Using them brings normalcy to the very abnormal situation of living outside of my birth country. I feel a holistic wellness resulting from their practice.

  Special thanks to Bruce Bundy for helping me to learn to identify and use hooks in my routine.

Names

Mine means famous. It has never quite fit with my personality. Admired or appreciated I could have lived up to, but I have always belonged in small crowds of close-knit journeys. Mine is also the legacy of my father, and it is a name I am proud to share.

In Spain names have been a strange experience. I ask people their name two or three times when they introduce themself. First I try to hear a name I know as existing and then I try to repeat most of the subtleties of their pronunciation. Some names signal enmity between my ancestors and the ancestors of the person I am meeting.  I tell myself, nearly audibly, "This is not your enemy. Be friendly."

In Spain I struggle much more with names.  I believe part of it is the double memory associated with my name learning here. In Pennsylvania I only remember which pre-made box someone's name belongs in "John, Michael, Deeana. In Spain the boxes are still unformed and names like "JuanJo" that I learn at work begin an enitirely new mental name box.

This year I am putting massive amounts of memory energy into knowing the names of people in my school and in my town. This effort brings the last reflection I want to share. When I remember a student's name for the first time, there is a magical moment. The student feels appreciated and cared for and I feel like I see them as an individual. It is frequently marked by the student exclaiming "you remembered my name" or expressing a satisfied surprise in being known. Every challenge in life is punctuated by moments of happiness and this amazing type of moment is only formed in the respectful meeting of two vastly different cultures.

Less Worried

For years I have been seeking a healthier response to fear.  It is not a natural change for me.  Jesus says that the birds have food without gathering and I ask myself “What about the bird I saw being eaten by ants?”  I tell myself that God will bless me, but I mentally replay those stories where someone finally started their life calling and was found dead the next morning.  I cannot seem to eclipse my fear with promises of provision.  In part because really really unpleasant things happen in the midst of God’s provision.

Working definition: anxiety is non-contentedness caused by uncertainty about future outcomes.  We are disturbed as we wait for results we cannot predict because we know they might not be favorable.  I have lost an immense amount of happiness to the fear of the future and the distracted thinking that takes me mentally far away from the goodness of the present.  Sometimes in the middle of beautiful time with family or part-way through a favorite hobby, my brain twitches and I lose my contentedness to a barrage of nagging worries.

I do not respond to anxiety with wisdom.  It is as if I place possible future outcomes under a microscope and examine the unpleasant ones obsessively.  This was previously beneficial for my performance at work and school because I identified all the safeguards I would need to ensure I succeeded.  Unfortunately, my post-teenage energy is not sufficient to oppose all the possible negative outcomes of my adult circumstances.  Now there are so many possible outcomes in my day and even hour, that I can only pay attention to a portion of them.  

I found a quick fix and I think it connects to a more holistic resolution.  I realized I can momentarily oppose anxiety by being grateful.  I place previously lived pleasant experiences under my mental microscope and focus on them.   I tell myself that I have been blessed with so many pleasant experiences that I would be a blessed man even if I died today.  I try to note my life in Christ as well and remind myself that this blessing outweighs any evil I may encounter.  My developing habit is helpful and I think it is part of a larger habit I need to practice: viewing God as an intimately involved, close-at-hand, and caring Father.  This Father trust is my best understanding of the ideal response to anxiety in our lives.  

Sameness

I moved into a new apartment.  My 4th residence in 10 months.  All for good reasons, things I could never regret stretching to reach.  But in this 4th place, I felt an unexpected desire for sameness.  And it entered my soul from my roomate’s morning routine.  

I was at the living room table, doing a devo and getting ready to do some homework.  I was fresh off a move from a townhouse stay with a family friend.  Shortly returned from an adventure in Spain.  Inconsistency was a staple in my experience diet.  I saw my roommate walk into the living room that day.  He made himself a couple eggs, he took his homemade lunch out of the fridge, and he buttoned up his work shirt.   He had a sameness to his lifestyle that made me jealous.  

I will always live by the variety for life-spice motto.  I long for days with controlled surprises and weeks that are unformed until they happen.  In the midst of that lifestyle I have decided I want some routine in my life.  Thanks Roomie Matt :-)

The lunch-sight enlightenment magnified a desire and cemented my intentions for some routines I had newly started.  One that was in motion already was my gratefulness to God morning reflection.  I try to sleepily mutter four or five specific thank yous to God as soon as I stand up out of bed.  It’s sappier and happier than a previous habit I had practiced - cursing to myself and wishing I was not awake.  The second already formed routine was more practical but super helpful - every work day I make two meat and cheese sandwiches and throw them in my workbag with some cookies and some chocolate.  

Since moving to my newest apartment I added a few more routines.  I walk the pathway around our complex most days of the week.  Sometimes I invite a roomie, sometimes I think and pray.  I love it.  And it’s literally right outside my door.  Secondly, I started doing pullups every other day.  It’s because I have childhood memories of hanging from a bar dejectedly while my gym teacher told me how important it is to be able to do a pullup, and because I have a weakened back I want to attend to, and because I want to be strong.  I love my new routines.  They bring a peace to my life and a rhythm.  Even the knowledge of these routines existing mellows me out and gives me fresh energy.  I am so glad I added some sameness to my life and decided to carve out these patterns.  I think my life has changed because of them and I am excited to keep practicing the routine rhythm.

EChO

EChO (Endurance, Character, Hope)

Years back I wrote this off as over-simplified.  Sure, we gain hope when we suffer; but to list a chain of production from suffering to hope seemed too perfect.  I forged ahead with my emptier philosophy of life.  But from the vantage point of 31 years lived, This short piece of the text has become one of my most cherished writings.  

The opening words of this claim force us back to the statement preceding it: “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God”.  The context is hope.  A hope described in a way that makes me think of future victory when my God defeats evil in a new and final way.  The word glory also makes me think of power and goodness.  I take comfort during life’s stressors, that my God is strong and righteous.  

The thrust of the next thought is jarring: “We rejoice in our sufferings”.  How can that happen? Feeling delight in experiencing pain sounds like a sick way of life. Even rejoicing while suffering seems borderline ridiculous.  A great hope is required for this rejoicing to be appropriate.  A hope that will be identified at the end of the thought.

Next we see the meta chain the ancient author lays out for us.  I do not think it is intended to describe every circumstance every time, I do think it lays out a powerful reality.  When we suffer, we gain the ability to endure.  In enduring, we build character we never knew before.  By our new character we gain hope.

I love the closing piece.  The hope we gain will not embarrass us.  It will not let us down once we finally decide it can hold us up.  And we know this because God’s love is flowing through our beings by the Holy Spirit who we received.  

ESV from Romans 5

“...we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us”