Daylight Savings is a mystery to me. I know back 100 years ago, it gave farmers and such more daylight to work in, hence the creative name. But I’m not sure what purpose it still serves, other than to make people sleepy and/or an hour late in the spring and an hour early in the fall.

I heard that possibly daylight savings could be coming to an end. Probably it will take effect after all the clocks are digitized to the point where we no longer need to manually advance them an hour or turn them back an hour. Some of you who were born after the 1900s are probably wondering what I’m talking about and if I’m off my meds (which the answer to that is yes).

I’d be okay with not having to adjust to the time difference twice a year. I’m sure there are smarter people who stay up late at night thinking and studying about these things who would disagree with me and would probably prove me wrong in any kind of debate.

I’m just saying that I’d rather stick to one or the other. Either put the clock forward an hour for daylight savings and keep it there, or don’t. Either way I’m still going to need a nap later.

I was reminded of a morning prayer a friend taught me that has helped me and changed my perspective: “Lord, I come to you with empty hands. If all I have today is You and the next breath, that will be enough.”

I remembered something else about this little prayer. It helps if you say it with open extended hands, palms up. Basically, you’re letting go of control, because it’s impossible to grasp and clutch with fingers open and extended.

It’s not a prayer asking God to take away everything you hold dear. It’s saying that God is enough. Not God plus my spouse. Not God plus my children. Not God plus my career. God and God alone is enough, and even if all those things went away God would still be enough.

It’s also a reminder that life isn’t automatically guaranteed. No one is promised the next breath, much less the next day or week or month or year. Each moment is a gift from God, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not.

Here’s the prayer again if you need it:

“Lord, I come to you with empty hands. If all I have today is You and the next breath, that will be enough.”

I hear more and more about professing Christians and churches that are letting go of Biblical doctrine in order to be more accommodating and relevant. You will hardly ever hear a sermon any more with the words hell or sin in it.

I wonder that we aren’t letting the culture transform us instead of us transforming them. A good pastor once said, “Don’t let the world teach you theology.”

That’s exactly what so much of the American Church has done. We’ve let culture tell us what to believe on so many issues instead of letting the Bible inform us. The end result is that we look so much like the society we’re called to reach that there’s hardly any point for us to exist. Our message is so watered down and diluted that it hardly has any hope left in it.

But Jesus always told the truth. Yes, He spoke it in love with compassion, but He always told the truth. He also met people were they were, but He didn’t leave them that way. All those prostitutes and tax collectors and adulterers weren’t prostitutes and tax collectors and adulterers after they had encountered Jesus. They were followers of Jesus willing to lay down their lives for Him and for the gospel.

May we never lose the gospel or preach a different gospel than the only one that has ever saved anyone and ever given anyone new hope and new life.

“To Be a Different Kind of Person, You Need a Different Kind of People….

It’s one of the first problems of getting sober — finding new environments and new friends.

For most addicts, everything in their lives is constructed to support finding and using their drug of choice. Now that they’re trying to get sober, they can’t keep going back to the same places or hanging out with the same friends.

If addicts are going to get sober and stay sober they will have to find new places, new habits and new friends. They won’t be able to maintain their sobriety if they keep the same friends and same habits.

And here’s a news flash — no one can be different.

If you’re going to change your life— or be in a position for Christ to change you—you’ll have to find new places and new friends.

Anyone seeking to follow the call of Christ and become the new person Christ is forming in him or her, will have to find new people who have followed that same call.

And this is why church is important. It’s not the church building, but the people.

The new disciple will need a new family, a new place and new habits.

That’s why we go to church. In order to become a new person, we have to start hanging around new people” (Mike Glenn).

For as long as the Church has existed, people have accused it of being full of hypocrites. That’s probably true. But hypocrites don’t just go to church on Sunday. They’re everywhere.

The misnomer is that Church is for perfect people who have it all together. But if you’re perfect, you should probably stay home or work on your golf game. The whole point of Church is that we’re not perfect or even close. We’re broken people with different talents and gifts to gather to encourage each other, love each other, rebuke each other, repair each other, carry each other’s burdens, be strong for each other . . . it goes on and on.

The beauty of a diversity of gifts and talents is that you can be strong where I am weak, and I can be strong where you are weak. When I exercise my gift, it blesses you. When you exercise your gift, it blesses me. And when we all step up and fulfill our purpose and calling, we are much stronger together than we ever could be apart.

I’ve never liked the term business meeting for a church. Maybe it’s just a personal thing, but the local church is not a business with a bottom line of dollars and cents. The church is a family, broken and dysfunctional at times but still held together by one faith and one Lord.

We are still the body of Christ. We are united with Jesus as the head, and we serve as the hands and feet of Jesus to love an serve where we live, work, and play.

One of my favorite traditions of Halloween is the annual viewing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, a Peanuts television special that first aired back in 1966. I mean it’s a classic. These days, I actually own a physical copy so I don’t have to look through my TV Guide to find out where and when it will be on.

I now have the soundtrack on vinyl with just the music and on CD with the added sound effects. Am I nerdy or what? Not to mention that the vinyl is orange and shaped like a pumpkin.

But for me, it’s what makes the seasons so great. It can instantly take me back to when I was as little as the kids in the cartoon and get me feeling all those feelings again. I remember getting dressed up in those costumes with the masks that I could see out of or breathe in and smelled like hot plastic. Back when the world seemed a lot smaller and safer.

This year I got the honors of being able to hand out candy to all the trick-or-treaters. I got to say, “Happy Halloween” over and over without ever getting tired of it. And no, I didn’t hand out any rocks to any round-headed kids.

I can’t believe that tomorrow’s Halloween. The whole month of October has flown by. I know that it’s something that old people say about how time gets faster as you get older, but it’s true. I guess it’s time for my back pill now.

But I’m ready. I have my t-shirt that says, “I’m here for the boos.” I have my festive ghost socks. I have my CD of music from the Charlie Brown Halloween special. I’m ready.

What I’d like — even if it’s not entirely realistic — is for time to Slow. Down. I’m all for Mondays going a bit faster, but I’d like to enjoy my weekends.

It’s weird to think about back when I was little and holidays like Halloween and Christmas seemed to take FOREVER to get here. I could hardly bring myself to wait that long. Now it’s like I turn around twice and it’s over until next year.

I guess the solution is to make every day a holiday — to make every day special, because every day you get to be alive and experience God’s grace is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.

So Happy Halloween Eve. I feel like if Christmas has Christmas Eve, then Halloween should have Halloween Eve. It should be a thing.

I keep waiting for the punchline. I keep waiting for the news about Matthew Perry to be some kind of weird and demented hoax so he can still be alive and so that addiction won’t have claimed yet another life way before its time.

I’m sadder than I thought I would be, not because I knew Matthew or knew much about him. I knew that he struggled with addiction for most of his life. I knew that because he was a celebrity that his struggles were more in the open and public than most addicts.

I think part of the sadness is that it brings back memories about finding about my uncle’s death after he had struggled with his own demons of addiction. It makes me think of my 20-year old cousin who passed away from addiction.

It makes me long for a day where there will be no more drugs, no more addictions, no more overdoses, and no more funerals for people who died way too young. I know that Jesus promised that such a day is coming, so I hold on to that hope.

I read somewhere that Matthew Perry prayed to God for help at some point. I don’t know for certain, but I’m hoping that maybe he found Jesus at some point. Or maybe Jesus found him. At this point, I can only speculate and hope.

I’m not saying that everyone who follows Jesus magically has every struggle and addiction taken away. Some will still struggle. Some will still lose their battles to addictions. This is still a fallen and broken world after all. But Jesus is waiting at the end of their road.

Richard Moll played one of my favorite characters from the 80s. He was Bull from the sitcom Night Court. He was such a big lovable doofus. Again, I have no idea what he was like in real life, but his passing is like the closing of yet another chapter in my childhood and one more door I can never go back through.

Death is an all too real reminder that this world isn’t what God created it to be in the beginning. It’s a reminder that sin entered the world and marred God’s beautiful creation. But then Jesus showed up.

Because of that fateful Good Friday, death is no longer the end. The grave is no longer final. For those who have hoped in Jesus, death is not the period at the end of their sentence, but a comma signifying more and better to come. The grave is only temporary, and just as it could not hold Jesus, neither will it hold those who have hoped and trusted in Him.

So I’m sad, but I’m hopeful. I grieve, but not as those who have no hope. Because Jesus showed up.

I just love a good Pumpkinfest three days before Halloween, even if it’s on an unseasonably warm day and my old pumpkin t-shirt just doesn’t breathe all that well. It’s hard to get in the spooky spirit when it’s 85 and humid outside, but I still do my best.

To say the fest was crowded is an understatement. It was jam packed with people for four blocks. There were booths and food trucks a-plenty. I’d say a good time was had by all.

There were a fair amount of people costumed up for the occasion. There were also people like me who chose to dip their toes in the Halloween waters by wearing t-shirts with pumpkins on them. And there were a few dogs in costume, which is always a winner in my book.

There’s just something magical about a festival in Franklin. All the shops are open later and all the food from all the various venders makes for a pleasant cacophony of smells. Plus, seeing all the people having a good time made my little heart happy.

So I’m looking forward to the next festival in December, A Dickens of a Christmas. More fun will definitely be had by all.

I haven’t done a random blog post in a really long time. Plus, I really couldn’t think of anything else off the top of my head, so here goes:

Tennessee weather is bizarre. A few days ago, we had some ideal fall weather where it was cold in the morning and suitable for flannel. The last two days have been warmer and good for shorts and a t-shirt. In a couple of days, it will be winter. All in the span of a week.

And speaking of weeks, I don’t envision a future where Fridays ever get old. It will always make my heart a little happy that my work week is over and that I get to sleep later in the morning. I actually fantasize these days about sleep. If that makes you sad, raise your hand.

The current World Series that nobody saw coming features the Texas Rangers facing off against the Arizona Diamondbacks. If you had one of those sports books from the future like in Back to the Future II, you could go back in time and win an ungodly amount of money betting on these two teams to make it to the final round of baseball. Also, you’d need a Delorean with a flux capacitor. But you’d be rich.

I used to be all about sports. But these days, I think I’d rather listen to music or go hiking or watch a good movie. It seems like all sports are about money rather than the love of the game. Maybe that’s always been the case, but it feels a lot more that way these days. Even college sports are about making money as the number one priority.

But since I sound like a grumpy old man, I think I will go to bed.

If you know me, you know by now that my favorite season is fall. And it’s not even close.

I appreciate all the seasons for different reasons, but autumn is where my soul comes alive, where my memories seem more vivid, and where the people I loved and lost and miss dearly seem nearest.

I love a good hike in the fall.

Today was a bit warmer than I typically like for a fall day, but it made for good hiking weather. The occasional breeze had the tiniest hint of frost in the air, reminding me that colder weather is on its way.

At one point, I saw the moon both in the sky and reflected in the lake. I tried to capture the moment with my phone, but the one I took in my memory is way better.

Autumn is such a quiet and peaceful time. It’s where everything slows down and prepares for the long rest of winter. It’s where the days grow shorter and the shadows grow longer.

The only down side to fall (if you can even call it that) is losing an hour to daylight savings. Soon, it will be too dark to hike after work. But soon will come Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas.

I’m making as many memories while I can.

Thank you, God, for another beautiful fall day.