I don’t know if it’s because I’m fixated on smells, but one of my favorite parts of fall is the smell of fall. I don’t know if I can explain it, but since the sense of smell is strongly tied to memories (or at least for me), one whiff of fall can bring back so much for me.

What does fall smell like? I like to think of it as the smoky scent of sweet decay. It’s the smell of leaves that have turned and fallen and are now returning to the earth. It’s the smell of a blazing bonfire on a night when the air is crisp and keen. It’s the smell of hot apple cider and warm flannel. It’s the smell of pumpkins and pumpkin spice and pot-pourri and hot chocolate and orange spiced hot tea.

I personally think each season has odors that are distinct to it. Spring has flowers in bloom. Summer has cholorinated water of pools, suntan lotion, and freshly cut grass. Winter has that keen bite that stings your nose when you breathe deeply.

But fall is my favorite. So many aromas that can instantly take me back to when I was five and full of wonder. So many scents that revive memories of people who are no longer with me.

I really wish there was a candle that could capture all that. I’d buy it in a heartbeat (and probably pay way too much for it). But in the mean time, I’ll live slowly and deliberately and breathe deep as much as I can.

I’m listening to a book by Charles Martin, Long Way Gone, based on the prodigal son parable. It’s such a beautiful story of how the father never stops loving his wayward son no matter far away he goes. I love how he always leaves the front porch light on just in case.

If I’m honest, I can relate to that one sheep that got lost. I can’t say that I’ve ever gone on a weekend drinking bender or snorted up cocaine or done any crazy and wild stuff, but I know what it’s like to feel lost and disconnected. To feel alone.

I love that the Good Shepherd left the 99 to look for me. He was relentless in his search until he found me and brought me back. Those of us who have followed Jesus long enough come to recognize His voice when He calls us by name in our darkness and shame. That’s the voice that gives life and brings healing and leads us home.

Every single one of us have been a prodigal at some point. We’re either the rebellious younger son who strayed or the legalistic older son who stayed. The father in the story loved both the same. He pursued both the same. Both had an open door an a welcome mat.

One turned around and came home. The story on the other has an open ending. We don’t know if the older son joined the party or not. We’re not told if the older son forgave his younger brother. It is interesting that while we’re never given the specifics of what the prodigal son did while he was away, his brother seems to have a pretty good idea what he was up to. Maybe he was projecting a bit.

But still the Father watches and waits. He doesn’t lock the door and turn out the light. He sees his son a long way off and starts running down the road. I don’t know if you know much about ancient culture (and I’m no expert myself), but for an old man to run anywhere in those days was scandalous.

And that’s the kind of love the Father has for all of his prodigal sons and daughters.

“And everybody used to tell me big boys don’t cry 
Well I’ve been around enough to know that that was the lie 
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons 
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old 
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road 
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young” (Rich Mullins).

Not that I’m counting or anything, but fall is only 14 days away.

I’m quite aware that in the great state of Tennessee, September 23 as the Autumnal Equinox means next to nothing, but at least on paper, it means summer is over and fall is here.

I’m hoping for slightly less hot temperatures over the next few days. At this point, I’ll be happy with under 90 degrees. I’ll also be really happy with little to no humidity. But I won’t hold my breath on that one.

I’m just thankful to finally be in the ‘ber months. That means all my favorite holidays are just around that proverbial corner. Spooky season is nigh.

At the moment, I have a very sleepy tortie camped out in my lap, so maybe I’ll just enjoy her company and be thankful for the day I’m living.

That sound good to you? It sounds good to me.

“Discernment is not knowing the difference between right and wrong. It is knowing the difference between right and almost right” (Charles H. Spurgeon).

It seems to me that very few American believers exhibit any kind of discernment. If the person speaking is charismatic and gifted, we’re likely to believe anything that person says at face value. We never stop to question whether or not it lines up with the Bible.

The problems for most of us is that we don’t know the Bible. We don’t know what it says. We’ve allowed Hollywood and culture and the world to teach us theology instead of taking it from the Word of God, i.e. the Bible.

I remember the Bible saying that in the last days, people would abandon sound teaching and gravitate toward those who essentially say what we want to hear. That’s why so many professing Christians are affirming and endorsing behaviors that the Bible calls sin.

They believe that Jesus taught us to love God and love others. He did, but He also calls us to repentance. He did love the woman at the well, but He called her out of the lifestyle she was in. He loved the woman caught in adultery, but He also said, “Go and sin no more.” He loved Zaccheus, but called him to make amends with those he had previously cheated.

Jesus told us that to follow Him meant to take up our cross daily. That means dying to self. That means dying to sin. That means we don’t go on in our original behaviors and life choices. We have a change of heart that leads to a change of mind that leads to a change of behavior. That’s what repentance means, and that’s what Jesus calls us to.

Lord, grant your Church true repentance and faith. Grant us true discernment to know what is of You and what is not. Grant us wisdom and boldness to follow You, no matter what. Amen.

When your peace rests on temporal things, then your peace is temporary. When you find your peace in the eternal, then your peace is eternal.

It’s easy to say but not so easy to live out. It’s easy to put our hopes into what we can see and touch and feel.

I know that I base my security so often on the fact that those I love will always be near, even when I know deep down that they won’t. I find my peace in my current circumstances, knowing full well that eventually they will change.

Then I wonder why I have no lasting peace. I wonder why my thoughts are in turmoil and anxiety is always near.

That’s when I remember that only God is unchanging. The only peace that I can ever truly find in uncertain times comes from an unchanging God. Anything else won’t last. Anything else is based on what I want to be true and not what really is true.

Ultimately, peace is not a feeling or a state of mind or a destination. Peace is a person — Jesus Christ, the Prince of peace.

I like all of these. #6 makes me cringe a little because that’s just makes my head hurt trying to figure it out. I think it’s supposed to say, “Writers should never generalize,” but someone got sloppy with the spellcheck. See what I did there with the alliteration?

I appreciate #7, even though it annoys my OCD tendencies. Consistency is key, especially in numbers. Of course the real answer is to write a lot and to read a lot. That’s the best way to get better at writing.

Also, if you want to see good grammar and spelling, stay away from social media. But that’s really another topic for another day.

“I have always believed in dreams, I thought I was strong . . . invincible. I resented weakness . . . denied it. Have worked all my life to prove it was not a part of me.

This last year, I have realized how imperfect I am. Along with the entire human race, I am weak. Jesus is my only Hope. . . .

I know what it is to be scared.

Tonight, I am no longer the self-assured, brave person I once was. . . but I am running my race to the end.

I am not getting off. . . not qutting.

I am living out all I committed myself to in my YES book. . . to hurt, pain, loss, death.

Tonight, I still know YES pays, it leads me to the finish line.

I am running straight to the end, even if I have had to crawl part way” (Ann Kiemel Anderson).

In the race of faith, it’s not about finishing first but finishing faithful. It’s not about running a fast pace but running with perseverance.

I love the idea that those who persevere to the end will be saved, and those who are saved will persevere to the end. It’s not an either/or but a both/and.

Because I know that it’s not up to me. Some days if I had my way, I’d quit. I’d walk away. But the Bible says that the same God who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it. The faithfulness that counts in the end is more on God’s end than on mine.

I will finish. I might not cross the finish line, but I will finish. I might be barely crawling by the end, but I will finish. Not because I am so fast or so strong but because that which lies ahead is so much better than anything I leave behind.

“If you can’t run, you walk, and if you can’t walk, you crawl, and if you can’t do that… you find someone to carry you” (Malcolm Reynolds, Firefly).

These aren’t super spiritual, but they’re all good advice if you want to brighten your day (and other people’s as well):

“‘So the three mighty men . . . drew water from the well of Bethlehem . . . and brought it to David. Nevertheless he would not drink it, but poured it out to the Lord.’ –2 Samuel 23:16

What has been like ‘water from the well of Bethlehem’ to you recently–love, friendship, or maybe some spiritual blessing? Have you taken whatever it may be simply to satisfy yourself? If you are always keeping blessings to yourself and never learning to pour out anything ‘to the Lord,’ other people will never have their vision of God expanded through you” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

That’s a little convicting.

It’s easy to receive a blessing and let it end there. You can be thankful and gracious, but if you let the blessing stop with you, then you miss out on half the joy.

The other half is sharing the blessing and watching it multiply. You can pay it forward by being equally generous with others.

The good news is that the generosity from God never runs out. As I’ve read and experienced many times before, you can never out-give God. You can never be more generous because whatever you have to give back came from God in the first place.

When you think of yourself not as owning but stewarding, then it becomes easier to hold your life and your stuff with open hands. You can give to those in need when you remember how once God gave to you when you were most needing and least deserving.

A good place to start is in tipping your servers at restaurants. Also, be faithful to go above the tithe wherever you attend church services. But most of all, be generous with your life. Be generous in your actions, seeking to serve rather than to be served. Love others as God has loved you.

“Some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic
But I had a good life all the way” (He Went to Paris, Jimmy Buffett).

One of the first things I saw this morning was about the passing of Jimmy Buffett. I can’t call myself a Parrothead because I never saw him in concert, and the only t-shirt I have of his came from Goodwill. But I’ve liked his music for a long time.

For me, whenever I hear a Jimmy Buffett song, my mind always takes me back to those Panama City trips back in the late 90s. There were two guys who set up on the beach and played nothing but Jimmy Buffett songs. They were armed with two guitars and some canned background music.

It sounds cheesy (and it probably was), but that’s how I got my introduction to most of Jimmy Buffett’s songs. Now when I hear any of his music, it instantly takes me to those beaches. Isn’t there something about hearing Jimmy Buffett that makes you want to go somewhere tropical and sip on a drink with an umbrella sticking out of it?

Music has that power to conjure up memories and feelings like nothing else. If I hear Margaritaville, I am instantly back in 1995, smelling the ocean air, hearing the waves, and enjoying good times with my friends. Plus those two guys doing their best Jimmy Buffett impersonations.

Thank you, Jimmy, for all those years of great music that made us all want to go South and stick our toes in the sand where the ocean meets the shore.