Hi guys!

I hope all is well out there in cyberland. While I'm sitting here trying to bring my body temperature down to bearable limits, I thought I would write a little. The guys here cry if the water gets comfortable and they'll come turn it up. I think the plumbers don't like to come for a small job, so they turn it up too much. You could perform surgery in those showers. By the time you stop sweating, when you get out, you need another shower. I guess I should just be thankful we have individual showers. I've watched prison movies, I know not to drop the soap. That reminds me of Daddy's soap on a rope (the family will get it).

I forgot for half the day that today is my birthday. I didn't think about them too much before all of this. If Daddy was alive, he would have turned 78 last month. I dreamed about him again this week. My dreams are more like memories, usually from 20-25 years ago. They're actually better than memories because they're fresh, like it was yesterday. They're a welcome diversion.

I dreamed a few weeks ago about my girls, as I often do, but it's almost always when they were little. This time they were grown. Faith, Jo, Shannon, and Joseph were on the floor playing and I walked in and said, "Papa Joe's finally home," to Joseph. I guess what you think of the most is what you'll dream the most. You would think I'd have more dreams of steaks and cheeseburgers than I do.

It's crazy how your outlook on things change in prison. All the things I dreamed of craved on the street mean nothing in here. Always wishing I could dive the Great Barrier Reef in Australia or buy the newest truck or some other silly thing. Now all I want is to be with my family, and maybe get that cheeseburger.

I didn't cry much before. Now I can shed a tear at a commercial. I watched a sappy movie last weekend. I can't remember the title. A guy's dying with cancer and meets a woman and falls in love, and then finds out she's dying with cancer. And I cried like a girl (no offense to girls). In here, you don't want anyone to see you crying. They may take it for weakness. But when you talk with them, one on one, they admit to being crybabies too. That's on those rare occasions you find someone to have an adult conversation with.

I know I've been rambling. I do try to find the positive about being here. One thing is you're forced to be still and think. Some days you'll think that is a blessing and some day's you'll think it's a curse. But all in all, when you're still, you can hear that inner voice. Of course, you have to train your mind to settle down as well. Try it sometime. Find a quiet place and just be still. Listen for God. He's always waiting for us to do that. To be still and know that He is our God and we belong to Him. And it doesn't matter if you're in prison or free, rich or poor; no matter your circumstances, you'll find peace. And that's more valuable than cars, houses, land, or God.

That's my prayer for you, that you'll find true peace.

Love,
Joe