It was weird looking at my childhood home all charred.  The home was built in the twenties.  It was once gorgeous and showed tell-tale signs of what a beauty it used to be...double french doors with original glass door knobs. Heavy wood trim throughout, built-in book cases, shelves, and window seats.  If it had been maintained, it would have been a real treasure, but truth be told, it had run down.  Even so, it was  all he had left in the world.  I worry for him.  I don't know how to fix this.  I pray a lot.  I used to also pray every night to win the lottery so that I could fix his place for him.  Really, I pray that I can buy a nice place for my mom, my in-laws, and my dad, but don't we all?  It will feel strange to not pray that prayer anymore.  
Maybe you could add him in your prayers, too.  Since I don't even know where to begin, I'm just asking God to do his thing.  I trust in that.
So sorry to hear about your Dad's house. It's such a tragedy, but thank God he wasn't home. I will be keeping him in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marguerite. You're an angel.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. He's in my prayers.
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