By nature I am a Type A-worrywart-OCD person. God has soothed my heart and my life over the years, reassuring me that all good things come from Him, and redeeming those things that are not. At times it has been so difficult to let go, stop worrying, stop trying to fix, stop "counting forks" (OCDs will know what that means), and let Him bless my life, learn to forgive myself and others, accept His grace. I struggled for years with stress, perfectionism and low self-esteem. Occasionally these monsters rear their ugly heads and make me worry, perfect what is okay, and beat myself up. How did I get here? Why am I so blessed? Am I sharing those blessings? Is this little piece of earth in Mississippi my "reward" for all the years of work and saving, giving, sacrificing (to an extent, because I know I am a selfish person). I walk around the house, down the log path, to the mailbox, under the pines, sit on the front porch, the yard swing, gaze in wonder at the beautiful dogwoods, irises, jonquils, space of the house, breathing room and almost get scared. I'm 64 years old and I love being who I am and where I am now probably more than any other time in life. Well, some areas. When Amy comes home, it is double-home now, for this was her grandparents' home and she spent time here over the years and holidays. Then a little Worry creeps in and I think, how long can this last? Is this real? Then God reassures me that if this is the last day, there surely are dogwoods in Heaven, space in Heaven, love in Heaven. I'm just so grateful for His blessings, for Paul, for Amy, for family and friends. I am in my place and I absolutely love it.