Never stop learning. Never stop inquiring and asking questions, not settling for sound bites and rhetoric but digging in and finding out the truth for yourself.

The best adults are the ones who still retain a childlike wonder and awe, who find joy in what most people have simply ceased to see anymore.

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we” (G. K. Chesterton).

“When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself” (Tecumseh).

I saw recently on Facebook where a friend from Union University’s son passed away suddenly and very unexpectedly. I don’t know any of the details. I only know that she and the rest of her family are grieving and in need of God’s peace that passes all understanding.

It shook me awake from my complacency and reminded me again that life is so very precious and fleeting and not guaranteed for any of us beyond today.

I was reminded sharply that I need to quit taking my family, my friends, and my life for granted, as if they will always be there.

The best way I know to keep living this life as a gift is to give thanks early and often. Even if your one gratitude is for being alive, that is still enough to give thanks. Gratitude breaks the stranglehold of entitlement and helps me to see that everything good in my life is God’s good gift to me, not anything I’ve earned or deserved.

My mantra once again is to give thanks and to keep giving thanks until I change my attitude from one of complaining and grumbling to acceptance and gratitude.

It starts again today.

This Tuesday’s edition of Kairos was special. For one night only, Mike Glenn made a return to Kairos. It was just like the ye olden days way back in 2016.

I’m convinced that there wouldn’t have been a Kairos without Mike Glenn. Sure, there were young adults who had the dream, but Mike Glenn helped make that dream a reality.

I count myself as one of the many whose lives that the ministry of Kairos touched and blessed. I’m better for being a part, albeit a small one, of this Bible study/worship event every Tuesday night for the last 12 years.

I also see now where Mike knew when to step aside at the right time to let a new voice take over. The transition from Mike Glenn to Chris Brooks was a rare healthy one that has led to a resurgence and a renewal of Kairos in the last 2 years.

Tuesday nights are still my favorite part of the week. I’m still thankful I get to serve by greeting people as they come in the door. I get to be that friendly face and welcome that may be the only positive interaction some will have had all day.

I can’t wait to see where God takes Kairos next, whether to a new venue or just a bigger and bolder vision right where we are now. I only know it will be an unexpected but amazing journey, just like the last 12 years.

In case your Monday was a typical Monday, here’s a little something to perk up your day. To help you stay grounded. . . . I could go on and on.

After a 5 am wakeup call, coffee (doctored with the usual liberal amounts of creamer and sugar) is a beautiful sight to behold. And drink.

Enjoy.

“Joy’s a function of gratitude. And gratitude’s a function of perspective. Counting gifts changes my perspective – & my LIFE” (Ann Voskamp, #1000gifts)

Yeah, I think I’d forgotten that. It’s easy to do.

We’re constantly being told to count our money to make sure we have enough for when we retire.

We’re told to count the number of toys we need to satisfy that inner longing and to finally make us happy.

We’re told to count how much our neighbor has so that we can keep up with those Joneses (and maybe surpass them someday).

But what we really need is to count our blessings and name them one by one, as the old song goes. Counting the myriad of daily gifts changes your perspective and makes joy possible in every kind of circumstance.

Yeah, I need to get back to doing that.

Maybe we all do.

Perhaps the world would be a little nicer place if we spent less time complaining and criticizing and more time counting blessings.

Just a thought.

I can’t believe it. I’m nearing the end of my quest to watch all the episode of the classic run of Doctor Who from 1963-1989. At least all of the surviving episodes. Ok, all of the surviving episodes that Britbox has rights to.

Anyway, I’m up to the 7th Doctor, Sylvester McCoy, and his oh so perky companion, Mel. Apparently, the production values and the budget took a bit of a hit during the last few seasons of Classic Doctor Who (and it shows from time to time), but it’s still a fun watch.

I still love to see how each incarnation of the Doctor brings out different nuances in his character and how each of them interacts with the various companions that come and go throughout the seasons.

I do wish that Peri had a better sendoff than ending up as a Warrior Queen with a King she didn’t like (but apparently somehow fell in love with in the space of one episode).

I may have to continue the quest on to the newer incarnation of Doctor Who that started in 2005. I’m having too much fun with this.

I can’t remember when I’ve ever been so glad to see Friday afternoon. I mean I was more than ready for 4 pm to get here.

I didn’t have a bad week. In fact, in many ways, it was a good week. A good but a long week.

Some weeks are like that. It feels like you’re driving a car with half the cylinders firing. You get to your destination eventually but it takes longer.

Rest is God’s prescription for those times when you’re worn out. God took the seventh day to rest and commanded that we do the same, not because He wanted us to add one more rule to memorize and follow but because He knew we needed someone to tell us to rest.

I fantasize a lot. Lately, my fantasy is turning off the alarm and sleeping in on that glorious day of the week called Saturday. I get to sleep until it’s actually daylight outside.

They say that you should go out and chase your dreams. Tomorrow, I plan to do just that by rolling over and going back to sleep.

“I have found it very important in my own life to try to let go of my wishes and instead to live in hope. I am finding that when I choose to let go of my sometimes petty and superficial wishes and trust that my life is precious and meaningful in the eyes of God something really new, something beyond my own expectations begins to happen for me (Henri J. M. Nouwen, Finding My Way Home).”

When I let go of my wishes and expectations, not only does something new begin to happen for me but also in me. I am transformed.

I saw recently that one of my favorite movies ever, The Princess Bride, hit theaters 31 years ago.

Wow. That was both amazing and depressing all at the same time.

I don’t necessarily feel like I should be that old. I mean, I get around pretty good and I remember what I came into the room for, mostly.

Still, those anniversaries of movies and songs really remind me that I’m not 16 anymore. Or 26. Or 36.

Then I remember that growing old is a privilege denied to so many. Too many people I know won’t get to grow old because they passed away far too young.

I still believe that every day that God lets me wake up is a gift and that nothing beyond today is guaranteed when it comes to this earthly life.

Still, I wish not everything I liked was old. That’s starting to get old.

“To be grateful for an unanswered prayer, to give thanks in a state of interior desolation, to trust in the love of God in the face of the marvels, cruel circumstances, obscenities, and commonplaces of life is to whisper a doxology in darkness” (Brennan Manning).

I love taking the Eucharist, especially at Kairos. The way Chris Brooks leads us through the liturgy from The Book of Common Prayer has a profound way of centering my thoughts on the elements of the bread and the wine, and the sacrifice they represent.

When you receive the blood shed for you and the body broken for you, whether you believe that’s symbolic or the actual body and blood, you remember. You give thanks not just with your words but with your actions.

Eucharist at times is like singing the doxology in darkness. In the midst of your worst week, Eucharist reminds you that the worst won’t last but that the best is yet to come. It reminds us that nothing that comes at us, whether it be loss or pain or death, can ever truly separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Eucharist reminds us all that none of us are entitled or worthy to receive the broken bread and spilled out wine but that Christ makes us worthy. Communion says that those who were once outsiders, enemies, and strangers to the promises of God have now been brought near through the Cross and are now sons and daughters of God, friends, and partakers and heirs of all the promises of God.