Stepped out on the porch this evening to get a breath of cool air. Rows of grey clouds spread out over the neighbors’ houses against an ashy sky. The street is quiet now, as even the dog-walkers settle in ahead of the rain. Though it’s close to 9 p.m., I can still make out the pale lavender of the hosta buds starting to open along the wall below the porch.

This is the sound peace. As an asylum lawyer, I’ve gotten to know so many people who have never had the luxury of taking such a peaceful night for granted. I try not to either.

When I was in Uganda, a local TV news reporter interviewed Deena, a social work student from Berlin who became an unlikely Ugandan pop star after being discovered by a music producer while volunteering in Rwanda and traveling in Kampala.

When asked about the economic gap between herself and many of her fans, Deena shrugged and said something like, “It’s just our circumstances. You never know when their circumstances could improve, and mine could get worse.” Thinking about the history of Germany in the twentieth century — a little before my time, but not much — her words hit home.

I am blessed tonight. If your night is peaceful, God bless you too. And if it is not, God bless you most of all, and may your circumstances improve.