You have searched me, LORD,
and you know mae.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
you, LORD, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
We live in a story. Our days are not spare parts but carefully chosen pieces that fit together with a direction and a purpose. God is authoring our lives and that gives all that we do and experience some major significance.
Most mornings…we wake up…and it just doesn’t feel that way.
But on some days, we wake up and we just know it. We look up and the world around us screams, “THIS IS BIGGER THAN YOU!”
Lately I’ve had my fair share of those mornings. All too often I find myself uttering the phrase, “this could be a movie.”
Well, so I figure the place to start this blog is to tell you a bit of my story.
Oh, and I’ll try to make it entertaining for those of you who know most of this part…
My name is Doug…Douglas Christian Daspit. I was born back in 1977 to a nice, young New Orleanian couple named Buddy and Eileen. [Okay, well Buddy's name isn't really "Buddy," it's actually Arthur Charles. He's not a fan of that name. Don't tell him I told you his real name.] Buddy owned his own auto mechanic shop [aptly named "Daspit Automotive"], shaved twice a day and absolutely loved Jack Daniel’s. [Rumor has it there was a family trip to Lynchburg in my early years that I can't remember.] Oh, and one more thing, he was often mistaken for John Denver. Eileen had recently quit her rather posh job at Travelers Insurance, liked to jog at the local fitness center wearing a t-shirt that looks something like this in order to mock the men she was outrunning, and was very excited about devoting her time to full-time mothering.
Over the next couple of years two more Daspit kids appeared onto the scene: Damien and Christina. [Yes, I did intentionally pick random pictures that my siblings probably don't like in order to aggravate them. After all, that is what older brother's do.] Damien was my best friend in the world. We grew up 18 months apart and did everything together…soccer teams…cub scouts…TPing random houses in Chalmette…etc. Christina is 5 years younger than me and we butted heads a good deal when we were kids. She said I was too bossy. I said she was spoiled. Now we get along great…although I’m still a little bossy and she isn’t spoiled at all. We all attended the now flooded Jean Gordon Elementary School in Gentilly. [GOOD MORNING MISTA RIEDLINGER!!]
Our world was shattered one morning in 1988. I distinctly remember riding home from school…Christina was in the front passenger seat and Damien and I were in the back. My mom turned to us and told us that she was asking Dad to leave. She explained to us that he was an alcoholic and that hopefully this separation would lead to him sobering up. We were sad, a little confused [Dad's drinking isn't normal?! Isn't that what all Dads are like?], but hopeful that this was just something temporary.
Little did we know that this moment of heartbreak would actually become the catalyst for the best decision we would ever make in our young lives…
TO BE CONTINUED…SOON…
