I am subscribed to a daily emailed inspirational message service through the [H.E. Butt FamilyFoundation]. This started several years ago when I become a member of the now defunct HighCalling Blogs.
If you do not already know, [H-E-B] stands for H.E. Butt. I made several deliveries back during my trucking days to their main distribution center, located on the eastern side of San Antonio, Texas. It was HUGE! If I remember right, it took five miles to circle the building while never straying farther than 50 yards from an outside wall. Yeah, it was all under one roof I think was actually over several building connected together over the years.
Getting back to the inspirational messages, the headline of one a couple of weeks ago really caught my attention. It said, God is fixing this…
If you have been keeping score at home, we have been under a lot of pressure lately (naturally-speaking, of course). First was receiving a notification from our local insurance agent a little before Christmas that our homeowner’s policy underwriter was going to drop our coverage unless we could provide proof of the age of the roof on the main part of our house before January 1, 2016. This was changed to allow us to at least secure a contract by the 17th of this month to have the roof replaced a little later on. Next was finding a primary care doctor for me so that I can be prescribed medications for my diabetes, high blood pressure and [A-fib] conditions. I go see my new doctor for the first time at 0830 on February 17. Then was the matter of me being called for jury duty.
When I called after 1700 yesterday (as instructed) to see if I would need to actually report for jury selection, the prerecorded message said that numbers 0001-0180 were to report at 0800 on the 8th, and numbers 0181-0360 were to report at 0800 on the 9th. All of the remaining numbers were dismissed. My number was 0421.
Please understand that I have nothing against serving on a jury. In fact, if I could do so while staying at home, I would serve on them all, but with my [Chronic Fatigue Syndrome], just having to leave the house leaves me practically down for the count and certainly no good for either side while serving on a jury.
I am kinda optimistic over going to the new doctor. For I am hopeful that he will want to treat my A-fib, which might actually be at the heart of my extreme exhaustion problems. Several doctors have mentioned that I had an irregular heartbeat over the years, but none of them have sought to actually treat it (as far as I can remember). I was left with an irregular heartbeat after contracting [Rheumatic Fever] when I was five years-old, and I did not think it was much of a deal until a physical therapist in the hospital during my stay in intensive care after suffering a heart attack last September mentioned that a bout with A-fib put him down for the count for a while, which got me to thinking that my main problem might be fixed with proper treatment for my A-fib.
I hope to post an update by the end of this week confirming that our homeowner’s insurance policy has indeed been renewed and we will not be foreclosed upon. In any event, our Heavenly Father IS fixing it all.
No, I could not let this go without speaking on the Super Bowl last night. Oh, what a boring game it was, but I am thrilled with the Denver Broncos winning—especially on account of letting [Peyton] ride off into the sunset in glory and putting [Cam] a little more in his place.
Yeah, I be hatin’, but the celebrated Mr. Newton should realize that there is a big difference between just having fun on the field and being a jerk. Maybe I am just way too old and white to understand his ways, but I think he showed his true colors when he backed off diving for a fumble he was in the best position to recover in the fourth quarter, which would have kept the final nail in his team’s coffin in the Broncos tool belt for at least the time being.
Arlynda and I were generally really disappointed with the commercials this year. We loved the Heinz’s wiener dog stampede, and Doritos’ baby on the sonogram cracked us both up big time. Some of the rest were ah-ight, but most were really sub-par for a super bowl commercial. The Mountain Dew puppy monkey baby had us feeling really old and white, I suppose.
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