Parking a camper on a concrete slab with a water hook-up, campfire grill, and propane heating is cheating—but it sure beats roughing it.
This morning, John Paul was permitted to have sole charge of my behavior during the meeting. My behavior was excellent, and his was too. He really is a good kid, and since I knew that his parents held him to a very high standard for a two-year-old, I did not blench from flicking his hands when they found wandering pleasures in teasing someone else or playing with his shoes. And he exhibited a very strong tendency toward self-discipline when he flicked his own hand to prevent it from getting into mischief. That little man is a charmer.
Emily’s birthday was beautiful. A beautiful day for a beautiful girl and beautiful outfits. April, Jacinda, Lindsey, Shoko and I decided to most appropriate apparel for the occasion was whatever looked the worst. I voted Lindsey the best-dressed hill-billy in the state of Arkansas, and that’s a pretty high calling since there are some pretty well-dressed hill-billies here. She poked pink plastic cups inside her two pig-tails for a truly top-knotch hair-do. And we elicited a few admiring glances while rendezvousing on the Tech campus. Emily’s family is sweet, quiet, and very good at making delicious food. Her grandparents can’t possibly be in their 80’s. I decided without a doubt that some day, sixty-five years from now, it would be a phenomenal blessing from the Lord to find myself married to a man like her grandpa.
The Sperry’s made our camping a family threesome and added a little more age and activity to the schedule. They have five kiddos, all homeschooled, from the age of two to the age of eighteen. Katherine, the oldest, grins almost as frequently as April, giggles almost as much as I do, and has a metabolism that could power a nuclear plant. Unfortunately, she’s still a couple of inches taller than I am—a mistake which I must forgive in light of her nobler qualities.
My new, old, little, big brother Zach followed us home, wagging his tail. That is, until his poor old Babe overheated and we had to rescue him.
My shower tonight was beyond description. It seems I have a new obsession—showers. Truly, in a place of cold, smoky, dustiness, getting clean feels heavenly. I pray I am at least as enthusiastic about purifying myself from spiritual grime.
Lord, Thou knelt to wash my feet
And promised me a paracleet
To purify me by Thy letter
Free me from my sinful fetters.
Lord, I wash now seven times
To cleanse my soul of guilt and grime
In the water Thou has spoken
Will my filthy heart be broken.
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