Just Normal Daily Life

I spent Thursday eating breakfast and lunch — That’s about it for me.

My friend Wes took me out to breakfast at Mimi’s Café in St. John’s Town Center, a fancy yuppie place where breakfast cost three times as much as at Dave’s Diner but the ambiance is certainly nicer.

I could get used to that life style.

I feel that I’ve found my level.

Ha!

Wes just returned from South Dakota. He was out there negotiating arrangements to support a young man, a soon-to-graduate high school student, through medical school.

Then my daughter Jennifer took me to lunch at Sonny’s BBQ. She’s heavily involved in arranging to send a young man to a welding school.

The willingness of Jennifer and Wes to make a long-term commitment to helping these disadvantaged kids who neither one have any real connection with the principals impresses me. Both Wes and Jennifer appear to regard what they are doing for these young men as just a normal outgrowth of Christian service.

Christians do end up in some of the oddest financial situations.

Personally, I ain’t sending nothing to nobody nowhere.

Ginny and I suffer from charity overload at the moment.

I’m still unraveling in tension release from my push at work last week. Just to get away from in front of the computer screen, I intend to finish out the next few days in pleasure reading and in yard work.

God willing, I intend to resume my work writing that book on Jacksonville’s fire fighting history next week. I backburnered that book months ago, and it’s hard to pick up where I left off. I doubt if I will finish that one before Christmas. But once that book is complete, I will have accomplished my writing goals for the year.

Big deal.

Might as well have spent the past year fishing.

The biggest heart ache at the moment is that there’s been no word from or about our youngest daughter for several weeks. She was supposed to appear in court last week but we have no way of knowing if she did or skipped out. She does not return repeated phone calls and messages. No one in the family knows if she’s crashed somewhere on drugs, or in jail, or got a job, or left town, or what.

Several of us have driven by her house but there’s no answer when we knock.

She’s troubled but we’ve all exhausted our resources and have no idea how to really help her.

Not knowing what is going on is difficult.

Ginny and I try to leave her in God’s hands and to trust, but still we worry.