Don't Die on Me/Can You Help It?
Last night me and Donna met Jeff up at Krystal's in Dothan. Can you believe this guy? He went to work on his day off just to give a kid he didn't even like a proper sendoff. Sometimes I like to brag on my friends, particularly when they don't even realize they're getting something right. To tell you the truth, I don't know all the specific details of Jeff's calling but he's put his heart into this job and into those kids. I think that's our basic calling to love people and give of ourselves to help them.

Over that last semester I considered my calling as much as ever. I got a little more clarification and affirmation on my specifics. Or so I think. My family asks what I can do with my degree. I tell them, "get a master's." For this next step will be required of me to reach my next goal: to teach at a college level. But of course, a family wants to know what I can do now. WORK. For too long school schedules have interrupted job possibilities. It is likely that simply having this four-year degree will open more job opportunities this remains to be seen. Even less probable is the likelihood of my finding work in my degree area. I'm not bothered with that right now. Right now I will concern myself with being a good steward and paying off those wonderfully amassed student loans. I'm not putting God or my ministry on hold; I'm being practical.

These past four months have been slow-going and trying. There have surely been more agonizing periods of my life. Certainly I have experienced greater anguish, defeat and loss. Since my uncle's wreck I've dealt with the thing head first. Day after day passes and after 3 months it starts to feel like a really long funeral. The things we have taken as hope quickly begin to look like reflex and not any possibility of hope. But I know, just as easily as he got in that coma he could awake from it. I know people have woken up out of comas after ten or more years. Still, watching his bones turn out and stiffen and watching his body depreciate to a mass of naybe 90 pounds really strangalizes my hope. There is hope, but boy is it under fire. This has all effected me in ways that I don't think can be measured yet. I'm deeply sad.