It's a wonderful life

Hi gang.

Sorry it's been a week or so since my last post. Things have been, well, interesting, to say the least.

We'll start with work. You already know I love my job. I didn't think this was possible, but it's gotten even better.

Last Thursday, as we rushed against the ticking clock to meet deadline, I felt a little bit like Perry White, the editor from the old "Superman" TV show. He's the guy who would get mad all the time, yell at Clark Kent, and holler "Great Caesar's Ghost!" when he became frustrated. (Remember the episode when Caesar's ghost showed up? Classic, just classic.)

Life is good at the ol' Shopper. What a team we have. You love what you do and you give 100 percent. Or else you don't last long. We may not win any Pulitzers, but we put our heart and soul into those pages. Surely that counts for something.

I spent tonight with the people I love the most. We ate dinner, talked awhile, ate Allison's peanut butter pie (I swear that stuff came di-rectly from heaven, as Chill Wills used to say) and settled in to watch Andy Griffith.

Remember the one where Andy, Barney and Gomer take Opie and his pals into the woods to camp out? That show was priceless. If we were all as caring a friend as Andy Taylor, this old world wouldn't have too many problems.

Elyse rolls her eyes sometimes when I carry on about the Griffith Show. But I can always see that smile, too. She's such a dear. I thank God for her every day.

And what a family she's got. Boy, they've taken me in and shown me a lot of love. I'm blessed beyond words. I only hope they know how much I love them, too.

Later tonight, I got home in time to sit with the grandparents a few minutes before bedtime. They've all but raised me. I owe them more than I can ever repay, but I hope us getting to spend these last eight years together has been as good for them as it has been for me.

You know, I don't know why we ever complain about anything. I can't speak for you, but I can sum up so much of why God is good just in this one otherwise normal Monday.

I woke up in a warm bed to sunshine. Walked downstairs to see Asa the dog wagging her tail. I fed her a piece of bread, she licked my hand and I was off to work.

Not only do I have a good job, but I enjoy every minute of it. I love my co-workers, I love my community, I love everything about what we do. I'm living a dream.

A reader called this afternoon to say thanks for a story I did on my old pastor. It mentioned his grandfather, the late Bobby Dalton. It meant a lot -- to him and to me.

Got a good report from the doctor. Sail on, he says.

I ate dinner with my best friends and the woman I adore. We watched my favorite TV show and talked about all the important things in life.

I came home to a loving family and am a few minutes away from going to sleep in that nice, warm bed. Before doing so, I listened to a little quartet music and was reminded of something important. ("And some sweet day/I'll reach the Strand/Still guided by/The unseen hand.")

This all may not sound like much to you. But to me, it's a miracle. I'm humbled, I'm thankful, and I'm happy.

OK, so the Braves are 14 1/2 games back. It ain't perfect. (Smile.)

But, man, what a wonderful life.