One Christian’s Days of Ups and Downs

↑ — Up. Friday Barbara White came over with the first set of proof pages for her Along The Way series of books and we made the corrections in that first volume.

↓ — Down. My youngest daughter called about 10:30 Friday night saying she’s given up job hunting and plans to abandon all her furniture and move in with some guy (one she conspicuously avoids naming) downstate. She intended to leave Saturday morning.

↑ — Up. Fifteen minutes after Barbara and I finished the last correction in her first set of proof pages, the postman delivered the second set from the printer. At this rate, I expect to publish her series in my online book catalog, Bluefish Books, within the three weeks.

↓ — Two of my other children called saying how worried they are about Patricia and how frustrated they feel that after all the help we’ve given her that she’s tossing it all away; the whole family is in mourning.

↑ — Ginny and I enjoyed our usual Friday Night Date to get reacquainted after the week’s turmoil. We strolled around the Five Points shopping center admiring the colorful uniforms all the young gothics were wearing to appear individual and unique.

↓ — Because of home owners insurance and car insurance falling due at the same time, we find our bank account is at its lowest in over three years.

↑ — Back at Christmas two of my daughters found a piece of art in a dumpster, they thought I’d like it, and pulled it out of the trash for my Christmas present. Friday, Helen, my daughter-in-law, tracked down the artist and found the piece is valued at at least $,1,500. She’s undertaken to sell it for me.

↓ — In phone conversations with various family members I’ve reevaluated our stance with Patricia and her drug/lifestyle problems. In the past year we paid college tuition for her; but she dropped out. We gave her a used but running car; she wrecked it. We helped her move and furnish a house and even did yard work for her, she intends to abandon it all. We have prayed for her and counseled with her. At sacrifice to ourselves, we got her new eyeglasses, drove her to job interviews, included her in family activities, bought groceries, and even took her cats to the vet. We now feel we have exhausted all the financial, physical, spiritual and emotional resources we have to invest. We feel we have given her every chance within our power to get her life straight so she can live the way she’d really like too rather than be driven and herded by circumstance. We feel we’ve failed and berate ourselves and feel guilty wondering what we could have done differently to help her: too much? Too little. We tried to give her a stable base to build on herself and feel our efforts have been futile. We love her very much and hate what has happened to her and what she has let happen, but our consensus is that we have to let go. Whether she sinks or swims now, we can’t be pulled under any deeper. And we feel terrible about the whole damn thing.

Now for three ups in a row ↑↑↑.

↑ — Yesterday at breakfast at Dave’s Diner, by chance Ginny and I ran into our daughter Eve and a gaggle of sisters and girls who had gotten together for breakfast and to shop for a bridal veil. Six giggling girls on an all-day shopping expedition for one flimsy piece of cloth! I told the girls that I’d make her a veil — take a mesh onion sack, cut off the end, soak it in bleach and… They hooted me down. Giddy girls.

↑ — In early morning research, I stumbled across a handle which will enable me to finish writing my book on the history of the Jacksonville Fire Department. That makes me very happy! I look forward to resuming that work next week.

↑ — Ginny and I spend Saturday doing virtually nothing. We sat in our garden reading murder mysteries, floated on air mattresses in the pool chatting about nothing in particular, watched some 1950s video movies, ate leftovers — a relaxed, peaceful day.

↑ or ↓ ? not sure which ?—. Patricia called mid-morning saying she’s delaying her move downstate till next weekend. I don’t know what to think or how to pray.

↑ — The joy of the Lord is our strength. The last line of an old hymn runs through my mind. Can’t remember all the words (and too lazy to look them up this morning) but they reflect my reality at this moment:

By the light of burning martyrs,
Jesus’ bleeding feet I track,
Toiling up new Cavalries ever,
with the Cross that turns not back…
While behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadows
Keeping watch above His own.