This is who loves me. He’s Other, not quite tied to this world. That means I, as his daughter, am also other, not quite tied to this world. Anxiety, which plagues me, is worse when I forget that, and it lessens when I remember. The rules here, the chaos and noise, the rises and the falls—this isn’t my kingdom. It’s not my home. Jesus was homeless, and in a way I am, too, only it’s a good thing. How much time do I want to spend on real estate here? This place is a mess, and it isn’t mine. Not permanently.