Hey, I'm tryin' to sleep here!

Romy and I slept in this morning. It's a beautiful pre-fall day; the air is crisp and cool and the birds are raucous. They, too, must know the cold weather is coming. I wore a light jacket last night plus a long-sleeved shirt. When the leaves change (and they may be excellent because we've gotten a lot of rain recently), I'll try to get fall photos for the blog, but my photography can't do justice to the fantastic Missouri colors.

Romy and I took a drive to the post office today and I stopped downtown for a cup of coffee. Normally I drink it here since my percolator makes such good, cheap coffee, but since I had to mail some important insurance reimbursements personally, we decided we'd stop for coffee and a muffin. Romy always weighs in on the food side or just for a ride in the car no matter what else might be happening at home.

I read the St. Louis Post as we shared a muffin and I talked to a few people who passed by that I know. I live in a town about the size of Prescott, so it's not unusual to run into people from the program when I cruise through town. I always light up when I see a kindred spirit, because it's like having a mini-meeting when I run into them. It's similar to how I felt when I traveled in South America during non-tourist season and would run into an American, like an ex-patriot found.

Last night was my turn to get speakers for my home group and I had a husband and wife share who had a tremendous story. The wife has about the same amount of recovery as me, and when she had about 19 years, her husband relapsed quite badly. He went into treatment about six months ago and when she shared about the pain of his relapse, it was very difficult for him to hear. But he gamely spoke after her and talked about how bad he felt about the torment he had caused her and their four kids. And he highlighted, as I have said before in this blog, about the insanity of addiction and how it would take him away from the most important people in his life.

It was a really good meeting and everyone remarked how much they enjoyed it. When people speak from their hearts, there sure doesn't have to be a lot of bells and whistles in their talk because it's that heart-to-heart connection that keeps us coming back. As we say in NA, it's "the therapeutic value of one addict helping another."

As I was driving home, I saw a homeless man with a scrawny dog walking not far from my house. I wondered if his dog needed food. Then I thought, boy, this is crazy. Why is it I'm more willing to give his dog food than I am to hand out a few bucks to him to eat? I've operated under the rule since I got sober of "if I have to work, so does everyone else." I almost never give money to bums. But in light of where I am in my life, by God's grace, and in light of what I'm slowly learning about Jesus' true nature and what I believe the message he brought is (love), I am beginning to reevaluate my stance.

I am grateful today that I was given the gift of another day clean. By the way, my brother is out of the hospital and back on his way to Seattle today. Please keep him in your prayers because this is where the rubber will meet the road. Well, I can't put off painting any longer, although I wish I could. Until tomorrow, my friends, have a great day.