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It's nearing 3 weeks, now, since my RUF minister, Dustin Salter, had his accident, suffering "as severe a head trauma anyone can and live" (said a neurologist). Initial signs were good, but he's lingered in the "no improvement" stage for 2 weeks.

And now he has a fever. Doctors are seeking the cause.

His wife, Leigh Anne, now has to deal with the long-termness of this as most of the out-of-town visitors have left. She took the 3 children on Saturday to see their dad, the first time they'd done so since the accident. The two boys are 7 and 9, and the little girl's just 2.

I'm not mad at God. That may sound weird, but… I don't know why. Maybe I'm still waiting for it to sink in. Because I got past feeling like I was going to break down—without breaking down. Which makes me fear that I've only postponed the inevitable till 1 little stressor puts me over the edge.

Dustin and his family can use a lot of prayer, right now.

-'Dee

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