To preface, I should mention that I do understand that the holiday we celebrate tomorrow is not all about grilling out and the opening of swimming pools.

It’s not about backyard parties with lots of food, nearly all of it bad for you but oh so tasty.

It’s about those in the military who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we could have the freedoms like grilling out, having the day off from work, and especially the freedom to speak our minds freely and choose the people we want to represent us in our government.

That said, it is nice to have a 3-day weekend.

I did a break from my usual norm and visited The Church at Harpeth Heights, one of the newest regional campuses of Brentwood Baptist Church. I followed it up with a pilgrimage to one of my favorite places, McKay Used Books. It’s still Nerd-vana to me with all the massive amounts of movies, music, and books.

I capped it all off with by checking out a Cajun place called Voodoo Gumbo. It was good, but not great. I think next time I’ll try one of their Po’ Boys.

I’m trying this year to not take freedom for granted. I don’t want to take the gift of life for granted. I want to honor those who laid down their lives for me so that I could have freedom. I want to live in such a way that shows that their sacrifice was not in vain.

So happy Memorial Day tomorrow, especially to all those who have served in the armed forces. Thank you for all that you do.

May we all choose to ask God for another route for love to travel instead of seeking to kill it (and part of ourselves in the process).

I chose Down from the Mountain as my viewing choice for the evening. It’s a documentary about a concert of music from and inspired by the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou.

I didn’t realize until I got five minutes in that the concert was exactly 19 years ago today. It was literally an unplanned, spur of the moment choice.

Also, fans of Roots and Americana music can probably point to the movie soundtrack and this concert as one of the watershed moments for the genre. It seems to me that perhaps there was no such genre until O Brother, Where Art Thou.

It’s really a fantastic documentary filled with some of my favorite artists. Where else do you get Emmylou Harris, Allison Kraus, and Gillian Welch singing together? Or the Fairfield Four? Or the Cox Family? The music is sublime, at once a throwback to a simpler time and something entirely new.

I keep hoping next year the powers that be will release a 20th anniversary edition with extra footage of the concert and behind the scenes moments. Also, they could throw in a tribute to those we’ve lost, like Dr. Ralph Stanley and John Hartford.

Somebody needs to make that happen.

There’s a game I used to play as a kid where the object is to count as many different models of cars as you can find. It’s really more of a way to kill time on a long roadtrip than an actual game, but it helped to make the hours more bearable.

Lately, a friend and I have revived that game with a twist. We walk around the parking lot and try to pick out all the different kinds of cars. There’s always the usual suspects– Ford, Chevrolet, Mercedes, Dodge, Honda. Every now and then, I’ll see a Pontiac or a Mercury.

But one car I have yet to see in one of these contests is an Oldsmobile. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen one. I imagine those aren’t exactly in high demand as collectible antiques.

I suppose my reasoning for wanting to find one is to have a sort of connection with something tangible from my past. To me, Oldsmobile in a way represents an era from my life that I can never get back to. A time in my life that now only lives in my memory and in faded photographs.

Every time I see an old station wagon, I have vivid flashbacks to riding in the rear seat that faced the rear window. I confess I was always a bit freaked out seeing the cars coming at me, wondering what would happen if one plowed through the back of that old station wagon into my seat.

So the game continues. My quest is to find an Oldsmobile. It’s not a lofty ambition or a bucket list goal, but it might conjure up a few more happy childhood memories.

I dare you not to have this song stuck in your head now. It’s impossible. You’re welcome.

This may just be for one person. One person out there in Almighty Interwebsland might need this encouraging reminder not to give up.

What seems like unending is only temporary. All storms cease. All trials end. Suffering and pain are momentary compared to the eternal love and grace of God.

Whatever you’re going through, you will see how God used it and brought you through it and be grateful for all the lessons you learned. But most of all you’ll be thankful for a deeper and richer understanding of and love for God.

Don’t give up just yet.

For the first time in a long while, I completed a Radnor Lake State Park triathlon. Basically, I hiked the Ganier Ridge, South Cove, and Lake Trails all in one afternoon.

All in all, I hiked for right at 3 hours. No wonder my feet hurt.

But it was completely worth it. At times when I’m by myself and I can hear my own thoughts — as well as the sounds of nature all around me– I feel like Thoreau must have felt at Walden Pond.

There’s something about being out in nature that’s very restorative and relaxing. For me, it feels like profaning the silence to speak, so I keep my mouth shut and looks and listen.

In a culture that’s addicted to constant noise, we forget how peaceful the quiet can be. Maybe it’s time we started to indulge in a little peace and quiet every now and then.

It’s true. Monday is tomorrow. That dreaded first day of the week draweth nigh. No one is happy about it.

Here’s the deal. You will survive. You’ll get through.

You are just as much secure in your salvation on Monday as you were Sunday. You are just as much loved by Jesus and covered by His grace as you were the previous six days.

No matter what happens, you’re good. God’s got you. It’s not that He won’t give you more than you can handle but more than He can handle. He will give you the strength to handle what you’ve been given.

Oh, and Monday is just another day on the calendar. Spoiler alert. There’s nothing especially bad about it except for what we bring with a sometimes self-defeating, self-fulfilling mentality. What you get out of a day depends on what you bring into it, how you look at it, and your attitude toward it.

In Christ, the worst that can ever happen to you is already handled. Nothing will get thrown at you tomorrow that God didn’t see coming.

You are surrounded, secure, and certain to be just fine.

Sometimes, that’s all you need to do.

Be silent. Be still. Cease striving.

Quit trying to micromanage your life, your marriage, your kids, your job, your everything.

Surrender the illusion of control and let God be God.

Know that even if that rare worst-case scenario happens, God is still in control. He will work all things, even absolute worst-case scenarios, for your good and His glory.

So chill.

As I write these words, my little Peanut is lounging on my bed, something that she doesn’t do all that often.

Not to say that she isn’t friendly or cuddly. She’s both. She certainly has a lot of kittenish energy.

She still loves her morning belly rubs. She gets that look of ecstasy and pure joy whenever she rolls over and I commence to pet her little chest. She’s in a state of catly bliss.

It’s weird that at times I can be so very fond of Peanut and at the same time still miss my first cat Lucy fiercely. I wonder how the two would have gotten along.

I also saw where the cat famous for all the Grumpy Cat memes passed away. Her real name was Tardar Sauce (no lie), but she made a lot of people, including me, smile.

I guess the my best response is to cherish my little cat Peanut for as long as I have her. She may not be famous or grumpy, but she sure is cute.