It’s official. Today, I broke my own personal record for most days lived. I have a lot of people to thank for this, including dear old Mom, without whom I would not be here. Literally.

When people ask me how old I am, I think I’ll tell them that I’m 35 plus shipping and handling. That sounds a bit better than 49. And less painful to say.

But I’m grateful. There are a lot of people I’ve known who didn’t make it to 49, including a young boy from my church who passed away unexpectedly at the age of 9. That shouldn’t happen. It’s a stark and painful reminder that we live in a beautiful but broken world, as my pastor has said a few times.

While my birthday celebration isn’t for a week or two, I consider that every day that I wake up with my health is another gift. It’s another one of the small blessings that I try not to take for granted.

If you’re a little past your 20s, don’t be ashamed of it. Be thankful. God still has a reason for keeping you around. No matter what age you are, you still have a purpose and meaning. Make your days count.

As usual, I’m enjoying having a birthday. I think I’ll have another one next year.

“The cross is not a defeat, but a victory. It is the dramatic reassertion of the fact that God’s love is sovereign, that the rulers of the world do not have the last word, that the kingdom of God has defeated the kingdom of Satan, that the kingdoms of the world have now become, in principle, the kingdom of our God, and of his Messiah: and he shall reign for ever and ever” (N. T. Wright, Bread and Wine).

If you’re looking for a good read for the season of Lent and Easter, you can’t go wrong with Bread and Wine, a book of daily readings. I can’t recommend it highly enough. It has an eclectic blend of writers that really capture the spirit of the Easter season, I think.

Here’s the link if you want to buy the book (with an option to support independent bookstores, if you choose):

https://www.plough.com/en/topics/culture/holidays/easter-readings/bread-and-wine

“Repent and believe in the gospel, Jesus says. Turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in that good news, to live out of it, and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all. Amen, and come, Lord Jesus” (Frederick Beuchner).

Sometimes, you just need some good news.

If you turn on one of those 24-hour news channels, you’re very unlikely to get any kind of positivity from the anchors and commentators and other talking heads. It’s all about what’s wrong, what’s broken, and what doesn’t work.

But the Gospel is good news.

As I get older, the more I understand that I will never outgrow my need of this Gospel. The more I see my need of it, the more I take it in and really appreciate it, the more I love it because the more I realize just how loved I am.

I think that after almost a year and a half of pandemics, politics, and general pessimism, we could all use some good news.

This is it: Jesus saw you at your worst and loved you enough in that moment to die for you. He took all your mistakes, sins, and crap and exchanged them for His perfection, glory, and right standing with God. He offers you more than just a Get Out of Hell and into Heaven card. He offers you freedom and fullness of joy. He gives you the abundant life.

Even if you already believe it and have been living it for a long time, it’s still good news. And we still need to hear it and be reminded of it and never stop telling it.

I dream of a world where masks are no longer mandatory.

No, I’m not one of those anti-maskers who refuse to wear a mask in the middle of this seemingly neverending pandemic. I wear mine dutifully and conscientiously. It’s no fun when you sneeze in a mask. It’s actually very gross, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Honestly, I’d rather not wear one if I didn’t have to.

I dream of a world where the pandemic has ended. I dream of a world where masks are no longer necessary.

I also dream of a world where people can be their true authentic selves and take off their proverbial masks. These masks are the ones that people put on when they try to live up to other people’s expectations. It’s when you say, “I’m fine” automatically when anyone asks how you’re doing.

I believe that the closer I get to having the life of Christ born in me, the more myself I become. The more like Jesus I get, the more I get to my true self, the person God envisioned when He dreamed me up and created me. The paradox of the Christian life is that the more I daily die to myself, the more alive I become and the more I truly find the abundant life. The kind of life with no masks.

So by now, most of you are aware that I’m all about Goodwill and thrift stores. I’m also a bit obsessed with all things Christmas, especially Hallmark Keepsake ornaments. I think you can imagine my delight at running into a treasure trove of Christmas ornament finds at my nearby Goodwill recently.

The reality is that I often come home with nothing. Lots of times, I haven’t found anything remotely interesting. It all depends on the day or what I’m looking for or what someone else donated on the day before. It can be hit or miss.

But as any thrift shopper can attest, the find makes it all worthwhile. It gets even better when it’s 50% off Saturday.

One thing I’ve learned through all of this is not to determine the value of a thing by its price tag. Much of what is costly in the world’s eye often ends up in a thrift store or a landfill in time. Much of what most think of as worthless is really priceless. What makes life worthwhile are the intangibles that won’t ever have a price tag and that no amount of money can buy or sell.

I suppose now I need to work on getting a bigger Christmas tree for next year.

“Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
    you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
    I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
    you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
    before I’d even lived one day” (Psalm 139:13-16, The Message).

“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, Provocations).

“Neighbourliness is not a quality in other people, it is simply their claim on ourselves” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

That’s something I learned recently. When Jesus taught about being neighbors, He didn’t mean the people who live to the left and the right of you. He didn’t mean the people of your neighborhood who look like you and talk like you and think like you. It has nothing to do with where you live and where they live.

A neighbor is anyone with a need that you have the means to help. I think we’re a lot like the Pharisee who wants to qualify who his neighbor is, so he doesn’t have to step very far outside his comfort zone. But Jesus said that your neighbor will be the one God places in your path at the time where his need and your gifts will intersect. You just have to be ready and willing to obey.

And so it begins. Tomorrow is that dreaded Monday, the start of a new week, and with all the snow and ice melting in the great state of Tennessee, things are getting back to normal.

Maybe that’s good for you. Maybe you’re in a good place financially, socially. Maybe you’re one of those rare few who actually like their jobs and find fulfillment and purpose in them.

Or maybe you’re already stressed out thinking about all that’s waiting for you. Maybe you dread the coming week because you don’t want to face having THAT conversation or dealing with THAT person. Maybe you’re in a season of grieving and the next day does nothing more than to remind you of what and who you’ve lost.

The good news is that even when you can’t find the words to pray, God still hears your prayers. Even when you’ve got nothing more than tears and groans and sighs, God knows what they mean– even more than you do. The prayers that come from the bottom of a broken heart go straight to God’s heart.

I love that Charles Spurgeon quote: “Groanings which cannot be uttered are prayers which cannot be refused.”

The Bible says that God is near to those who are broken hearted and crushed in spirit. He’s close to those who are close to giving up. He sees you when no one else does, and He cares when no one else cares.

It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long. Almost 21 years ago, I went into a place called Vet Pets and picked out a tiny kitten for my birthday. It seems like yesterday, and it seems like a lifetime ago.

I had been around cats before. My mom had a cat. My sister had a few cats of her own. But I had never entered into the rare privilege of cat ownership until that moment when I picked one scrawny little feline over all the rest. That was a watershed moment in my history.

Lucy was a loyal and faithful companion for 17 years. I still get a little sad when I think about how I couldn’t save her at the end, but had to let her go and say my final goodbyes. But I’m thankful for that little tabby and what she meant to me.

Nine days after she passed, I was able to rescue another cat. She turned out not to be a carbon copy of Lucy, but quite a loving personality of her own. Her name is Peanut, and she is going on 4 years old.

I’ve learned that you can never go back, but you can remember. For me, memory is a fickle thing. You can’t will a memory into being, but certain smells or words or sights will trigger a random memory, like watching an old home movie.

I am an unashamed full-fledged cat person. Sometimes, I think I am the male equivalent of the crazy cat lady, whatever you would call that. Sure, I like all animals– cats, dogs, gerbils, hamsters, rabbits– but I have a special affinity for cats because I know how rare and special it is to have been chosen not by one but by two felines who loved me with all their hearts.

I’m going to seriously date myself here, but who remembers the 80s series Moonlighting? Who used to anxiously await the next episode? Who was always disappointed when it ended up being a rerun? This was before streaming, so you actually had to wait a whole week before the new episode. The horror.

Well, tonight’s Ragamuffin Gospel Fan blog post is a rerun. First, I couldn’t think of anything new. Second, I ran across a G. K. Chesterton quote that always hits me in the feels. He expresses a truth about God ( and consequently about us as humans) that bears repeating.

“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. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore.”

I like the idea that growing in Godliness means we are growing young instead of growing old. It’s like we are growing again toward the innocence and wonder of childhood as opposed to the cynicism and weariness of old age. All the best people I know are the ones who are mature and yet have a childlike (not childish) quality about them. They are, as I hope to be, growing young.