I’m so glad to be here and I’m not worried about a thing.

This sounds suspiciously like something Minnie Pearl might say (“How-dee! I’m just so proud to be here”). That’s not who it came from, although everyone in the family does tend to smile some when we hear it. When I was a teenager (back in the 60s), a motel a within short walking distance of the church we attended went out of business and was turned into a group home for mentally disabled people. These people began coming to church, which presented quite a challenge for the congregation. When the minister invited people to share testimonies, Barbara, this middle-aged woman from the home, would stand up and say, “I’m so glad to be here and I’m not worried about a thing.” This was a source of great amusement to the younger set, and I suspect some of the older folks as well. We did not behave with a very Christian attitude toward these poor people. In any event, what she said is rather profound. Today, “I’m so glad to be here [in my house, with R and without N].” N has moved out!!! He finished paying off the last credit card debt and he chose to move in with some other people. These people have got some problems and we urged him to just give it a week-long trial run to see how it goes. He spent a couple of nights there and then made up his mind. I saw him briefly yesterday afternoon and he said he really liked it. Now comes the other rest of it. Am I “not worried about a thing?” Well, I’m struggling. I know worry is a sin and I try not too, but my joy at having him gone is greatly tempered by the situation into which he has moved (which I won’t go into). The red warning flats have been run up to the top... but it’s out of my hands, that’s for sure (I say, that's for sure -- ok, now shame on me for poking fun at my step-grandma) , and besides, that’s tomorrow’s trouble and I guess I have enough to not worry about today