Over the years, so many products and people have offered promises to completely change my life, by now I should rightfully be only a shell of the man I once was.
However, the only thing I’ve found to be 100% effective in creating lasting change is free and comes with a five star rating and billions of evidence-based reviews: the life in Christ for which I’ve since become an enthusiastic ambassador.
If you want real and lasting change, settle for nothing less.
It was two years ago today I bought my final resting place, the humble home in which I’ll live until I die.
After giving away 90% of everything I owned, and spending another $40/sq ft in renovations, I find I’m no happier than when I began.
But I am free to be content to focus on the remainder of my days and who I want to spend them with.
My kids, grandkids and a few choice friends and family prove that whether it’s possessions or people, less is always more.
The morning after is when the truth hurts most of all.
Purpose of this story aside, last night I truly had the best time I’ve had all year.
All my favorite friends from the past 50 years gathered for a party celebrating 40 years of marriage with a couple dear to us all.
I don’t drink coffee at 5pm for just anyone. But this group, this night was gonna be worth every lasting moment. If any night past my strict 7pm bedtime called for staying power, this one was gonna be it.
So much history.
So many years.
All the memories except 10 years right smack dab in the middle that I missed altogether. Lost forever to now long awkward silences in recollective conversations because you simply weren’t there.
930pm now, I’m home awake from the coffee and pissed I missed all those 10 years.
If you’ve never done a chunk of time in prison or on drugs away from family and friends and all that’s sane and normal, you may not relate but be thankful for it. But whether forced or chosen, that time separated from those you know and love is full of history and experiences you can neither share nor recover.
I first realized this with my family at holidays since where they all laughed recalling memories and inside jokes about which I was and am still clueless.
Last night the same phenomenon happened with friends whose full histories I should know but stopped cold around Y2K on a long downhill slide.
Even now, decades later, experiences like these illustrate the way I am and who I’ve become. Everything is being made clearer and it’s a little sad and a lot less nostalgic than I’d hoped.
Regardless, it was a lot of fun and so good to be welcomed within that crowd again.
Life is one long lesson about how love for friends and family is always the best choice to make and events along the way to remind you of it, even if it took a decade to come back to your senses.
A five day mountaintop reset with family and friends comes to an end today mostly because of my dog.
He’s in good hands but I miss his company and I’m returning a day early to surprise him.
Not sure my experience is healthy as he’s just a dog but I also hate when people say he’s just a dog when he represents so much more.
A warm little body who curls up against mine any chance he gets. The reassuring hug around my neck I never ask for but instinctively he knows when to give. The gaze into my eyes at random moments just to be sure I’m okay and that we’re good.
Dogs live solely to please us and care for us at times when human embrace is in short supply.
Yes, he’s just a dog but he’s a better human than most of humanity and sometimes we just need to return the favor.
Oh southwest wind
That blows all night
To clean our skies
And fly our kites.
You carry pollen
Yet bring no rain
It’s just not right.
Make birdies fly
Into the walls
You spill our trash
And that’s not all.
My hair’s another
You don’t ignore
And make me look
Like one cheap whore.
A breeze is nicer
A gentler flow
But southwest wind
You just totally blow.
It’s not confusion, or even a faulty premise that took a left turn somewhere.
But in those few minutes of an early morning conversation with God when you’re seeking some collective noun to describe an unsettling set of circumstances that, individually, don’t add up to much, but together seem overwhelming and more than you can wrap your head around even after a third mug of coffee.
This, my friends, is where God lives and works and demonstrates his namesake.
So while I chip away to find some meaning and purpose to this cluster of concerns before they take me down a rabbit hole into an abyss of emotions, thanks to God, my hope is already being knitted into a fine explanation and sensible outcome.
Mornings like these are the very essence of faith over fear.
Like you, I’m tempted in a half-dozen ways I could very easily slip up on my convictions and eagerly go down that rabbit hole to self-destruction and certain disaster.
While triggers these days seem smaller, they’re a lot more widespread and plentiful, planted in my purview, hoping I’ll pay them just a brief acknowledgement as I walk through my day during which, given the opportunity, take root.
I start each morning with acknowledgement that I am weak and vulnerable, powerless to the crippling of my good intentions apart from my faith in One who guides me blindfolded through the daily minefields.
“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain” was the Wizard of Oz warning that poignantly illustrated this personal battle for me from a very young age.
You’re susceptible to your own rabbit holes, but you have means of avoiding them if you’ll make it your mission to humbly do so this morning and every morning.
I wish you many victorious successes today and every day.
As culture wars heat up, society breaks down, and the two camps fortify their positions, it’s harder and harder to find a little humor to lighten the load enough to make it bearable.
Truth is, I’m not sure making things bearable is even a noble goal any longer.
Issues once resolvable are now so poisoned and polarizing there’s no wiggle room for even a little giggle.
And while mirth has been my worth and contribution during decades of battles, I find that today’s kings no longer summon jesters for comic relief, but enlistment in a war of their own making or banishment altogether.
Dreams must count for something down here because I just visited with my Mom for an afternoon of walking, talking, and a hundred questions about heaven.
It was as tangible and authentic as drinking my coffee on the living room sofa writing this right now.
She left as suddenly as she’d arrived and I woke with a peculiar sense of peace and comfort I can’t fully convey, but I hope it lingers for awhile.
All I can say is as evil as the world has become six years since I last saw her, it is what it is and she was not at all disturbed by it.
I think she wanted to assure me of that and to continue walking in faith.
10 years ago tomorrow, I accepted an offer to work in the most challenging and rewarding career of my life; keeping a roof over the heads of those who would otherwise end up on the street.
Ironically, just months before, that’s where I was… at nights asking for leftover soups from Panera and chicken from KFC at closing time, and by day job hunting for something more meaningful than my $9/hour custodian job at The Crossing Church for which I was thankful, but far from fulfilled.
Thank you to HopeLink of Southern Nevada for taking a chance on me and my fallen but redeemed history.
It’s a place for second chances for everyone and part of my own redemption story ever since.