January 3, 2015. Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico. My Parents.

My parents knew what they were doing with their lives. They knew they were doing God's work by working as officers in The Salvation Army. They saw it as their duty. It is not only that they felt required to do the work of the Lord but they were also required to perform their work joyfully. In our family, there was not a wife of complaint or criticism, at least as far as I could tell. It was a tall order but they managed to carry it out. Both of my parents were still committed to service and joy until they died. Their impact on their children has been interesting. We three children were a bit more cynical than them, but the concept of service and duty has been part of our lives. It is again a tall order, but I have always expected to do my duty and to do my duty with joy to the benefit of those with whom I work. It is not actually religious in spirit but it seems pretty close. Now I have a dire disease. The treatment is not pleasant. But my family ethic would have me walk down that path joyfully, while helping others along the way. It is my duty and it is my service. Now I must figure out a method of carrying it out in the every day of my life.