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me, yet again.

So, the storm hit my part of the Southland today. Mama's retired (Praise God! She's enjoying it, too!), but dad's still working. He had meetings, but...they've been rescheduled.

Our power and water are a-OK. The house dogs ("perma-puppies") are a-OK. Confused, but OK...as long as they have their mama, that is.

Bigger issue? God has willed a mighty reconciliation in my family. I --am-- blessed beyond measure. Even when I was obviously brain damaged, ugly, burned out, sick, etc...my parents had the time, money, and inclination to keep me from going to prison or homeless. I got saved (miracle!) a bit less than 5 years ago, and today...

...well, I had a craving for ice cream. The "low tire pressure" indicator came on in my car earlier. I'll get to it tomorrow...I park outside, under a Holly tree, so I'm not tinkering with that right now. So, my parents were out and about, and I called and asked if they could pick me up a lil ice cream. And, sure enough...

...I know this makes me sound like a kid (no, I really --am-- in my early 30s, I promise), but...they came home with a bunch of small containers of my absolute, all time favorite flavor (Pet brand chocolate moose tracks), plus some other goodies. And now...

...mama's baking a chicken in the oven. The house is already starting to smell awesome because of it. The other night, she did a turkey, complete with awesome stuffing. Made my day.

I could easily have gone off to prison. Where I live, they even have a lovely "prison for the criminally insane..." a psycho-prison. Could have happened to me...just another "working class loser" turned criminal, no big thing. Welcome to the real world, kiddo!

My parents saw fit 1st to get me into a Teen Challenge program out of state (good call on a number of levels, trust me...), and then they got me a good lawyer when an angry ex-psychiatrist wanted to go in for the kill. Despite who I was, what I did (a lot of it to my parents), I ended up w/ a serious misdemeanor, not a felony. I'm now receiving the kind of "treatment" all mentally ill people should receive--disability if you need it, occasional counseling sessions, plus psych drugs I can tolerate, at reasonable doses--largely because of my parents.

Don't get me wrong; all good things come from The Lord. At the end of the day, He gets all the praise, no doubt. I'm just...overwhelmed, now, by how good my parents are to me, especially now that The Lord has changed me so much, both inside and out.

OK. Finished, for now. :-)
 
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