Today is my 23rd birthday, not a landmark like 18, 21, or even the nice-and-even 25, but still an occasion to step back and take stock of my life. I saw Kate Hudson on a TV interview recently, talking about all she's achieved at age 21, and it's enough to make you feel like your life has slipped idly by. On the other hand, I've achieved most everything I dreamt of in the last 5 years--writing for major publications, including the Tribune, living in downtown Chicago, getting married to a smart, beautiful woman. All that's left is to write my book, which I plan to start next week. It's enough to make 33 sound like a distant, foreign age--who knows what I'll be doing by then, or even next year--there are still a lot of professional and geographical question marks in the lives of my wife and me. But for today, I'm sitting in a high-rise in Chicago, the sun splashing down on my bay window view of the Near North Side, and I had an article (far from my best, unfortunately) run in the Trib this morning, which should mean another paycheck sometime in the next few...months (knowing the Trib's administration...) and I'm spending the whole day with my wife, who doesn't start her job till Monday. That's a whopping birthday present, one that humbles me for the blessings God has granted. If my life contributes in some small way to his kingdom, year in and year out--only then does this meager milestone of the universal speck of my life count for anything.