I stepped in the door of my apartment around midnight this past Thursday. It was absolutely empty except for what remained in my room. With each step on the wood floor it echoed. My roommate--whom I met on Craiglist back in January when I first moved to the city--was all moved out and was planning on just coming by in the morning to do a few things and sign the check out sheet. It was bittersweet because God had truly blessed me with a roommate I enjoyed and got along with well. I have no nightmare stories of the randomness that Craigslist provides so often. He wasn't a vampire. He didn't steal from me. He didn't leave a trail of dirty clothes, dishes, or toilet paper in his wake. He was a genuinely solid roommate, so it was somewhat sad to part ways.
But I also knew what I was getting myself into. As George and Wheezy sang, "Well, we're movin' on uuupp..." It wasn't exactly to the East Side. It literally was a move up--four floors from the second to the sixth. I moved in with two guys who are a part of the church plant: Peter, who is from around here, but has never had a roommate before, and Jake, who just moved up from Texas on Saturday to be a part of the church.
Needless to say quite a bit of adjustment has occurred in just the four days since I've been back. The apartment is much bigger than the previous one and most people I know are jealous of my room. We are at the end of the hall facing the street we live off of. I have three enormous windows that overlook buildings all around and I can even catch a glimpse of the lake and the Navy Pier Ferris Wheel. I will be doing a video tour some time soon, so you can see exactly what I'm talking about.
The move is going smoothly and I think we are all gonna get along really well, especially because Peter brought a sweet flat screen to the place equipped with seemingly every kind of system known to man. He even brought art too. We are cultured now.
In the middle of the move we had to pause and enjoy at least some momentary rest at our sweet new digs for church...