Constant reminders of my childhood:

My bunk beds aren�t much to look at now, but they have been used in our family since before I was born. They were brought up to Gainesville when my brothers came up and have been here ever since. As a child, I used to have to use the ladder to get into bed, and now when I climb into the top bunk I�m often afraid the whole thing will collapse. It�s made of good Irish wood, old and worn. My feet hang off the ends of the small mattress and I enjoy the comfort of the very same sheets that were bought about the same time the bunk bed was.

My scar is often the subject for discussion when I am getting a haircut.

Them: �So�what happened to your head?�
Me: �A dog bit it.�

Sandy is my yellow bear that I�ve had since I was born. It sits in my closet and sometimes enjoys the luxury of sleeping with me. (She�s an animal)

My parent�s faces haven�t changed much. They�ve just gotten a little older. I love my dad�s big nose and his big heart. I love my mom�s soft skin and her soft heart.

When I reflect on where I came from, I am reminded of where I am now. I am reminded that I live a life that has long since been mortgaged. The debt that I owe is un-payable and grows deeper still. I didn�t deserve any of this, but for some reason it was given to me by a gracious and loving father. One whose ways are mystery to me and I constantly fail in my attempts to understand him. Seeing as God has given me these things, I feel that burden of debt lifted, although there is one thing I owe.

I owe him my life.