“Bad times, hard times — this what people keep saying; but let us live well and times shall be good. We are the times. Such as we are, such are the times” (Saint Augustine of Hippo).

I keep hearing how bad 2020 is. I keep hearing how people can’t wait for 2021 to get here so everything will be perfect and right.

Granted, we’re in the middle of a pandemic. Granted, there are more than the usual numbers of natural disasters, i.e. wildfires, hurricanes, tornadoes, etc.

Just because I’m having a bad day doesn’t give me the excuse to behave badly. It doesn’t let me off the hook from trying to do good and to be good.

I think the same applies for the calendar year 2020 and all those infamous resolutions you and I made on January 1. I’m not saying you will absolutely accomplish 100% of every one of your goals this year, but you can still strive to improve.

I still believe that the year is what you make it. Bad things can happen, but if you choose to be the good in the world. I believe it was Jesus who said the key to life was to love God completely and love people the same way.

Just because you might have had a bad start to the day or week or year doesn’t automatically guarantee that you will have a bad ending. That’s still for you to decide by the choices and responses you make starting now.

2020 will pass. COVID-19 will pass. This pandemic too shall pass.

What will remain?

What remains is what you learned and who you became during this time. What will last is the stories that you are now weaving in and out of the days that come and pass all too swiftly.

What you will remember most aren’t the daily grim statistics or the dire prognostications but the small daily victories that gave a glimmer of hope in the deepest of the darkness.

Every single adventure worth telling has a moment when darkness reigns and defeat seems inevitable but where the heroes keep hoping in spite of hope until the dawn breaks through.

Sometimes, I run across an old relic from the past that stirs up long-dormant memories.

I found this sticker on a CD case and I was instantly transported back to about 20 years ago when I was still living in Memphis. Back then, I frequented a certain record store called Cat’s. Back when there were actual record stores that sold records and tapes and CDs.

One of my favorite past times back then was going through the dog pound where they had all their used . . . I mean pre-loved CDs. You could even bring in your own CDs and trade them for cash or credit.

I remember every now and then getting really excited over a good music find. More often than not, I didn’t find anything worth parting me from my money, but on rare occasion, I struck musical gold.

Life is like that. There are a lot of days where nothing magical or extraordinary happens. Then there are those precious few days that you talk about and dream about and remember for the rest of your life.

I do recall those stickers were really hard to peel off.

These are actual reactions from my cat Peanut to 2020.

I’m not positive, but I think it’s called a face-plant.

It means that Peanut is absolutely, positively done with 2020.

Just let her nap in peace. Unless you brought tuna.

I haven’t done one of these in a while. Sometimes, it’s good to just put out a post with random, unconnected thoughts. Today’s as good a day as any for that.

Hello, September. Your arrival means that fall is closer but not yet here. I could tell that it was still summer by the prodigious amount of sweat I produced today. It definitely hasn’t been as hot but whatever the day lacked in heat, it made up for it in humidity.

I cut the yard and sweated. Then I took a shower and sweated more. Then I thought about going back outside and sweated even more. Thankfully, there’s deodorant.

But fall is technically arriving in 10 days.

I also saw where a little tortie cat that I follow on social media passed away unexpectedly. It always hits a little too close to home when I see someone’s beloved pet crossing the rainbow bridge. It reminds me of my own experience with losing my little Lucy 3 years ago.

It’s a good reminder for me to pay special attention to my little Peanut and not take her for granted (not that I would ever do that, hopefully).

I see where my laptop is down to 11% battery, so I should probably wrap this up. Thanks again for all those who are reading this, whether it’s your first time or you’ve been following since day one. Each and every one of you are awesome.

I will always remember where I was on September 11, 2001. I had just walked into the office of the Recreational Outreach Center of Germantown Baptist Church, getting ready to start another glorious work day. I had no idea what was about to unfold.

My boss at the time called me into his office and showed me the replay of the first plane hitting one of the World Trade Center buildings. At that moment, no one had any idea of what had just happened. We thought it was an accident.

But when the second plane hit the second building, there was no doubt. We had witnessed a terrorist attack perpetrated on our own soil. After that, everything would change.

It blows my mind to think that there are college sophomores out there who weren’t born yet on that infamous September morning. So many out there are too young to remember the cold dread that many of us felt as we were glued to any television we could find to try our best to figure out what in the world had just happened.

In the end, nearly 3,000 people lost their lives, including many first responders. Years later, people are still succumbing to the aftereffects of that day, including many who later developed cancer due to being exposed to the fallout.

If at any time, we as a nation and a people forget that day, then all those people died in vain. We must always remember what we lost and how so many were brave in the face of terror and sacrificed so much, including their lives. We must always remember how we for one brief shining moment rallied together as a country and were united for a season.

I hope and pray that we never see anything like that again. I also hope and pray that we never forget that even on the worst of days how God was able to turn even the the most heinous evil into good.

One year ago today, I was walking on this sand on this beach. There was no such thing as COVID-19 or coronavirus or social distancing. All that I was thinking about was how refreshing and cool the sand felt between my toes and how the ocean breeze had a salty but sweet scent.

I was revisiting Panama City Beach for the first time in over 20 years. It was the first day of my vacation, and those are always the best.

I took lots of pictures. I also recorded a short video of the ocean waves crashing into the beach, so that one day when I need it, I can go back and watch and listen and go back to that one moment of tranquility.

Just so you know, I haven’t completely given up on 2020. I know that so many are calling it a lost cause and wishing for 2021 to get here quickly, but I think this year can still have some good in it.

It all starts with how you choose to see the world. If you look for negativity and fear, you will find it in abundance. But if you look for the good– and choose to be the good– in the world, you will also find it. You can dust for God’s fingerprints to find out that He is still at work, even in the pandemic of 2020.

I hope to go back to that beach some day. Maybe I’ll find the same spot and hear the same waves crashing over the same beach. In the mean time, I think I’ll go and try to make tomorrow a good day.

“Christ says: ‘Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?’ The Pharisee answers correctly, ‘The one who showed mercy to him’ (Luke 10:36). This means that by doing your duty you easily discover who your neighbor is . . . . He towards whom I have a duty is my neighbor, and when I fulfill my duty, I prove that I am a neighbor. Christ does not speak about recognizing our neighbor but about being a neighbor yourself, about proving yourself to be a neighbor, something the Samaritan showed by his compassion. Choosing a lover, finding a friend, yes that is a long, hard job, but your neighbor is easy to recognize, easy to find – if you yourself will only recognize your duty and be a neighbor” (Søren Kierkegaard).

The Pharisee asked the question, “Who is my neighbor,” because he wanted qualifications on the people he was to love and serve. Jesus said in essence, “The one who is in need who is near to you is your neighbor.” Or better yet, “You prove yourself to be the neighbor because you have the ability and the availability to meet someone else’s need.

The real question is: if I am the good neighbor, who can I love and serve today?

My spiritual gift is telling bad jokes. Not funny jokes. My jokes are so bad that they are almost physically painful. You only laugh because you feel so uncomfortable and awkward with how bad my jokes are.

So here’s the joke of the day.

You’re welcome.

I’ve heard all my life that the reason many people use for not attending church services (or going to church, if you will) is the abundance of hypocrites sitting in church pews on Sunday.

A hypocrite by definition is someone who wears a mask and pretends to be someone they’re not. It goes back to Greek theater when the actors on stage used to wear masks when portraying different roles.

My old argument used to be that yes, there are hypocrites in churches. There are also hypocrites everywhere else. There are very, very few people whose words and actions always match. But I’m not going to quit going to my place of employment because of hypocrites. I’m not going to stop going to the gym (hypothetically) because of hypocrites.

Now I say that I need to be gathered together with other believers not in spite of the fact that I’m a hypocrite but because I’m a hypocrite. Yes, I am aware that far too often what I profess and how I live don’t match. A lot of times they don’t even come close.

Every time I enter the doors of my church assembly, I’m confessing that I don’t have all the answers and don’t have it all together. I’m admitting that I need not so much to be informed as to be transformed. I need to see Christlikeness modeled and lived out and preached and taught so that I can better live out what I proclaim to believe.

If I weren’t a hypocrite, I could probably stay home on Sunday and catch up on Netflix. I could go jogging with all the other perfect people who apparently have it all together.

The problem is that the Church has done a poor job of communicating why it is that we meet together weekly. It’s not so much a celebration of how we lived so perfectly but a confession that we messed it up again and need Jesus as well as each other. We’re not perfect (or even close to perfect), but we are redeemed and loved, not because we deserve it but because of the grace of God.

So I’ll be there at my church at 9 am next Sunday because I’m a great big hypocrite and still need to be shown how to live like the Jesus I believe in and to show the love of Jesus that He’s shown me. I still need to have others model the faith for me and for me to model my faith for someone else. That’s why I go to church.