Emphasis Preaching Journal

When I was in seminary, I lived on West 121st Street, in New York City between Broadway and Amsterdam in a wonderful old turn of the century building with tarnished brass door knobs, cracked mosaic floors and a teeny old elevator that was more often than not stuck between two floors. So I had to hike up the six flights of narrow stairs to my apartment, grocery bags under arms, books on my back, and I'd arrive at the apartment breathless and bushed.