Fighting Ants

Ever feel like the world’s made of ants and your backside’s dipped in sugar?

First, Penelope (age 2) woke up this morning asking Becky when I’d be home.  “I want Daddy to hold me.” Ripped my heart out.

Then there’s the hate mail.  I got two precious gems in my inbox today, both upset that I was to play at a Catholic church tonight. I got to spend an hour of my life lovingly explaining (and editing and re-explaining) why I would sing about God in a place where God is worshipped.

Then I pushed notes through my swollen throat all evening.  30 people braved the cold and snow.  An amp blew, half the speakers went out and I tripped on stage twice.

Am I the only one so whiny that he has to make an effort to see the good in an only slightly blemished day?

My cell phone found signal here in Indiana twice today.  I got to hear my family’s voices.  Gabriella (age 7) made me a picture.

I made peace with an enemy on the phone.  I forgave and was forgiven.  I’m free.

I sang to a mixed crowd of evangelicals and Catholics in a beautiful church – and for a couple hours we thought and sang the same things.

Three old friends (the Lohes and Cristy) came out to see me.  Cristy brought me a much-needed coat her son doesn’t use.  I told them the things I can’t blog about and we laughed and hugged and I felt less alone out here on the road by myself.

And, lastly,three children now have new friends in America.

Take that, ants.

Now, how do I get this sugar off?