Dear Lord, Today is Saturday. The family is awake now because I slept in. My body needed rest. Lisa will need attention soon and resent it if I work long hours on the computer today. The children are watching cartoons. George was sick last night and vomited all over the house. Iona was kind to clean up without waking us. George seems fine now but my tiny apartment smells foul. We still have to file and feed, contrast bath, shower and be Super Dad. And Jonathan has a nose bleed. In short, the devil wants to hurt us all he can. I want to praise you for all you are but it is difficult to think beyond my own need. Yet the whole world suffers. Many are persecuted for their faith. Some are persecuted because of faith. You are our Deliverer. You restore all things. You are our hope and Strong Tower. I thank you, Lord, for your great and perfect will. When you made the universe you showed off by making it so vast. You wanted us to have a sense of your vast power every time we looked into the sky or into the mountains or at the oceans. You also have full control over me and my circumstances. How can I thank you or offer you praise enough? I can't. But I leave this journal today thinking of your praises.