DANNY'S LETTERS TO GOD
No Food Today
We are sharing my first mug of java this a.m., and I am grateful to be alive, abstinent and in Your care. It is chilly this morning, and I was wondering how this could be in the middle of summer? Here we go again, someone stole my entire summer, and the chief suspect is time. Time is sort of like ice cream, the less there is the faster it seems to disappear. You know there was a time (there's that word again) when this would be enough to send me right to the food, but not today. My brain was also thinking how sad is the last forkful of food on my plate -- is this what they call "stinking thinking?" The day will be full, and for this I am thankful.
I await the arrival of Mary's new bed, an early Christmas present, lunch and a movie with the wise old man, and a trip to "Tolbert House," and an AA meeting. Perhaps there will be a meeting at 7 p.m. -- if anyone comes -- no one showed last night. My guess is that seven is not a good time?
There was only one mention of the WEDDING yesterday, and this man could have done without that one. I was invited to the bachelor party and was smart enough to decline, and not because I worried about being too stodgy. I'm afraid these kids won't be able to keep up with me. Besides that, the woman You sent to tell me what to do said no. She (the woman) said it's my mind making dates that my body won't keep. Very funny.
Please give my Michael some extra attention this weekend as he moves into his new home where, for the first time, he will be alone -- no mom, no frat brothers, just him. He will be too busy with a full time job and full time law school, so just be with him.
I certainly could use another day of not stuffing myself, and thanks for yesterday. The knowledge of Your will and the wisdom and power to do same will be mine I know. Your loving and watchful eye on all those who suffer, those who do and don't know it, and the people I don't like is requested. Just for today, allow me to be of some small service to You and whomever You send my way.