Things I Love 27: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

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Even on a Monday there’s plenty to be thankful for. In fact, having a mindset of thankfulness can make even the worst of Mondays bearable and even good. And even the worst of Mondays are only 24 hours. Unless you’re Bill Murray on Groundhog Day. Then good luck. On to #761.

761) Hiking the Ganier Ridge trail at Radner Lake in the rain.

762) Knowing that even the worst of days last only 24 hours.

763) Seeing a baby deer with its mother.

764) The thought of having a bowl of cereal as a reward for finishing this blog.

765) Yard sales and garage sales.

766) Looking forward to another Kairos tomorrow night.

767) Being 100% condemnation-free in Christ.

768) Rescued pets.

769) Finally releasing my cares into the more than capable hands of Jesus.

770) Corn on the cob.

771) Being reminded of my dependence on Jesus and how it’s not up to me.

772) All those Back to the Future movies (even that confusing Part II).

773) Knowing that Jesus won’t ever give up on me.

774) That knowing is half the battle– thanks to the 80’s G. I. Joe cartoons for that reminder.

775) That all I have to to is stand and watch and God will fight my battles for me.

776) A good game of gin rummy (even though I never ever win).

777) The possibility, however remote, of going on a date with Kari Jobe.

778) Watching Halloween and Halloween II back-to-back on Halloween night.

779) Remembering all those late nights at Perkin’s when I was a student at Union.

780) That tree-lined road between Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg.

781) Those moments of clarity in the middle of the hazy days.

782) That God didn’t give me most of the things I prayed for.

783) The Pauline Baynes illustrations in The Chronicles of Narnia.

784) The fruit tea at Calypso Cafe.

785) Fried chicken at family reunions.

786) Bette Davis in Now, Voyager.

787) Picnics at Arrington Vineyards on Sunday afternoons.

788) How my cat looks so peaceful and serene when she’s sleeping.

789) Victor Hugo’s beautiful story of redemption and hope in Les Miserables.

790) Wading in a creek on an especially hot and humid day.

791) How much better I feel right now than when I started this blog.

792) Serving breakfast at an ungodly hour at the Nashville Rescue Mission.

793) Pure 100% Vermont maple syrup.

794) The beautiful and sad movie, Bright Star.

795) Not ever giving up on people because God never gave up on me.

796) Vh1’s Behind The Music– especially about the bands I loved growing up.

797) Whitney Houston’s 1991 version of The Star-Spangled Banner.

798) High fives and fist bumps.

799) Oscillating fans.

800) Whoever came up with the brilliant idea of those combination squirt guns and portable fans.

Things I Love 26: Sowing the Seeds of Love

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“A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ” (Ann Voskamp).

“…life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change” (Ann Voskamp).

I think for me two of the biggest agents of change have been 1) letting go of expectations of others and 2) receiving all of life as a gift. Making this list has changed my outlook. I have too many blessings to not see God in my daily world. I have been blessed too much not to want to be a conduit of blessing to others. That said, the list picks up at #726

726) God using me in the lives of those around me who don’t know Jesus to be Jesus to them.

727) The moment when you realize that the headache is gone.

728) Unplanned naps on Sunday afternoons.

729) Any time I get a chance to have a conversation with my smart and funny friend Alex.

730) Getting compliments on my t-shirts.

731) Not being naked in public.

732) The anticipation of coming to a good part in a book I’ve already read before.

733) Old Glenn Miller recordings.

734) Those pens that have the four different colors of ink.

735) Finding something of mine that I thought was lost forever.

736) That everybody doesn’t think like I do.

737) The smell of a freshly painted room.

738) The way Jesus told the best stories.

739) Gibson’s Donuts (even though there aren’t any in Nashville . . . yet).

740) The scent of honeysuckle in the air.

741) Picking blackberries in summer.

742) Being a Bapticostalicopalean (Baptist+Pentecostal+Catholic+Episcopalian) at heart.

743) Dreams that refuse to die.

744) Goat cheese.

745) The idea of changing the world by changing one person’s world.

746) Hearing people’s stories of how Jesus found and rescued them.

747) Seeing the glow of a person coming out of the baptismal waters a new creation in Christ.

748) The smell of the tire section at Costco.

749) Road trips.

750) Capturing a moment and a feeling inside a photograph.

751) Old graveyards.

752) My book of Emily Dickinson poems that I’ve somehow managed to misplace.

753) That I’m over 3/4 of the way through my list.

754) The freedom of finally being able to forgive myself for not being perfect.

755) Wintergreen or spearmint gum.

756) A now discontinued flavor of Snapple called Ralph’s Cantaloupe Cocktail that actually tasted just like cantaloupes.

757) Memories of riding standing up on the back of my dad’s old pickup truck with Murphy the black lab in the middle, grinning like an idiot and loving every minute of it (I meant the dog, but I’m sure I was smiling a mile wide, too)

758) Finding one Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mystery novels in hardback at a used bookshop.

759) People who always give me the benefit of the doubt.

760) Those Market Fresh BLTs from Arby’s.

Things I Love 12: Tested And Approved by Lucy The Wonder Kitty

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Lucy is in my lap, approving  whatever I type. Of course, she can’t read, but if she could, she would add her own comments (most of which would not be fit to print in a family-style blog such as this one). So I’ll take her silence as either approval or extreme sleepiness.

The list commences with #264 (I think).

264) Ice-cold water to quench my thirst on a humid summer day.

265) A long walk alone under a full moon at night (as opposed to all those moonlit walks during the day).

266) That I’m finally at a place where I’m comfortable alone or in a crowd.

267) Planned spontaneity.

268) That I’ve come to the place where if I never see a certain person ever again (and at the moment it appears very likely to be the case), that I will be glad for the friendship; I will miss her, but my life will go on.

269) Those quiet moments of peace where God speaks into my silence.

270) That with God, every day is a day to look forward to.

271) Reading collects out of The Book of Common Prayer and seeing my own prayers expressed better than I could ever put them.

272) That this blog site has spell-check so that I can appear smarter than I really am, i.e. that I can actually spell.

273) That I really don’t have to be friends with everyone or have everyone like me to be content.

274) That everything will be fine in the end, and if it’s not fine, it’s not the end.

275) Good lines from good movies (like the one I just referenced earlier).

276) Chocolate bars with bacon in them (it sounds gross, but tastes divine).

277) All of my quirks

278) That I have to show my driver’s license to prove that I really am the age I say I am.

279) That even though Jon Acuff might have more readers for one blog than I’ve had for all my 1,000+ blogs combined, that I have touched and impacted lives that wouldn’t have been touched and impacted had I chosen not to write a blog.

280) That I can use bad grammar, and bad punctuation, in my blogs, if I so, choose.

281) Those rare times when the Church is known for what it’s for rather than what it’s against.

282) That I can learn something from anybody, no matter what their philosophical, theological, political or social beliefs and regardless of whether or not they have the same worldview as mine.

283) That hamburger from The Pharmacy with bacon, ham, and a fried egg (10,000 calories of deliciousness!)

284) That the last spoken words from Jesus in the Bible aren’t a condemnation but an invitation.

285) When I talk into a box fan and make my voice sound like a robot.

286) That being grown-up doesn’t always mean having to be mature all the time.

287) That the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.

288) The way my cat Lucy hovers when she goes to the bathroom.

289) Not knowing all the answers (or even all of the questions).

290) A perfectly made and perfectly thrown paper airplane.

291) That I saw the actual Batmobile from the campy 60’s TV show tonight in downtown Franklin

292) That this list will continue– maybe tomorrow, maybe not. You’ll just have to tune in tomorrow to find out. Same bat time, same bat channel.

I Like to Ride my Bicycle, I Like to Ride my Bike

 

This is a fairly close approximation to what my bike looks like. My bike is a year or two older than this one, but essentially has the same look and design as the one shown above.

For about 5 years, my bike was in a dormant cocoon-like state in the garage, yearning for the sweet taste of summer breezes blowing through its spokes. It was a sad and lonely bicycle.

Then one day not too long ago, I took out Max (that’s the name I just now have given my bicycle) and took him for a spin. The first time, I about did myself in and had to lie down for a little while afterward. The next time wasn’t nearly so bad.

Today, I went down to a nearby walking/biking trail and did about 5 laps around the trail. I got a bit sore, but I didn’t get overly winded and I felt good at the end.

My investment in my Giant Cypress DX is finally paying off, 6 years later. And in case you didn’t know, my bike is a 2007 model. Apparently, bikes have different models each year like cars do. Shows you how versed I am in bike-lore and all things two-wheeled.

One day, I’d like to trade up to a newer model bike, preferably one with a carbon frame (since they are much lighter than my current aluminum-framed dinosaur). They are so light, I was able to pick one up with one hand. My left hand, in fact.

But until then I’ll be content to be slummin’ it in my 6-year old bicycle. Seriously, I’m very happy with my bike. I may even get it tricked out with a headlight and a place to hold a water bottle (and maybe even one of those obnoxious bicycle bells).

I’ve come a long way from the days when my sister had to bribe me to learn to ride a bike. Back then, I could be had for 2 or 3 G. I. Joe action figures. I wasn’t too savvy when it came to bargaining, apparently.

What’s the point of all this? Just for you to go and pull your bike out of its cocoon. Pull those roller-blades or quads out of the back of the closet. Go down to your nearest walking trail or park and get some fresh air and exercise. Even if you don’t have a bike or roller-blades or old-school skates, you can still jog or walk.

Trust me, it will do you a world of good.