One Day at a Time

Can't I help God? Why do I have to just trust him and not step in and fix things? Isn't that a mother's prerogative?

Abstinence is going fine. Supper last night was turkey chili, a slice of bread, a supplement, and a pudding supplement without the extras I'm avoiding. The scales said 184 at the center where I weigh in, down 1.5 pounds from the lowest previous in 30-ish years. Last time I weighed, it was 186, about 2 weeks ago. Foor today is 2 eggs, bread, cheese, supplement, turkey chili, grapefruit, and supplement. Boring is good. Boring is comfortable. Boring is following the food plan.

No computer games.

I've willingly spent a sizable chunk of time the last 24 hours helping son with a resume and cover letter and logistics of getting it submitted, etc., with him on the road driving a truck. It's the perfect job for him; he's perfect for them. He knows the first part; they don't know the second part. So couldn't I tell them? Or get somebody more credible than a mama to tell them? Please? Pretty please?

God said no. I sit here chuckling, because he said it pretty sternly. And I'm listening. I'm not talking to them, not even saying the name of the potential employer to try to get somebody from there to contact me. I've got to leave it up to God and to son's excellent credentials and talents. Gosh, that's tough. Almost as tough as not playing computer games for about 72 hours, but I've done that. And I'll do this. Promise. But it's hard to type with crossed fingers.