Three Reminders from the Resort Lawn Guy

We were enjoying the morning on the balcony, taking in the ocean view when this guy showed up.

I was a little confused. I had walked on that grass. Not a hint that it needed mowing. Why was that on his to-do list?

Pretty quickly I caught up. That’s how goodness works. That’s how discipline looks.

Even when it doesn’t look like it’s necessary…you do it

Even when no one would notice if you did or didn’t…you do it

Because it’s so much easier when you’re consistent…you do it

Thanks for the reminders, Sir!

If Only Stillness Were Black and White

There are plenty of things that are pretty black and white for me.

  • All diets can include daily servings of ice cream
  • Baseball over hockey
  • “Thou shalt take naps” is the 11th Commandment

One that I wish were but it just isn’t is when to be still and when to move. We’ve all been there. The last 24 hours have reminded me that it’s not simple.

Last night a friend asked for prayer. In my efforts to pray scripture over them, Exodus 14:14 spilled out.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

Based on the need, this seemed like an honorable reply for prayer.

This morning while waiting in the green room at church between worship sets, I resumed reading this book:

In describing a lifechanging conversation with a longtime friend, Chacour acknowledged the grayness of being still.

Here was that old question that had troubled me so long: As a Christian do you speak out against the actions of your enemies-or do you allow them to crush the life out of you? So many seemed to think that submitting to humiliation was the only Christian alternative. Should you not, sometimes, be stinging and preserving like salt?

Old question. So many people have answered it in ways that we admire, question, or scratch our head. If only it were black and white.

Here’s my answering history. Sometimes I’ve been still successfully; sometimes I’ve sat still too long. Sometimes I’ve moved timely; sometimes I’ve moved too quickly.

It feels like I’m constantly learning the lesson much like engaging traffic lights.

  • “Good Lord (not really a prayer). When is this light ever going to turn green?”
  • “I’m sorry (sort of a prayer). I was looking at my phone.”

If I were in charge, the traffic light of being still would have three different colors from the traditional ones.

  • Black = “You’ll regret moving, so don’t.”
  • Gray = “Have some ice cream, and chill.”
  • White = “Floor it!”

Good Lord (this is a prayer), thank you for fighting for me…and forgiving me when I don’t let you.

“Right Now, I Don’t Care. I’ll Deal With the Consequences.”

Two Friday nights in a row I’ve knowingly eaten dessert that I was pretty sure I’d regret the next morning.

I was right.

Friday #1…too many cookies. Didn’t care.

Friday #2…the whole piece of pie. Didn’t care.

How did I know this? 19 years of running.

Not since 2012 have I full-fledged followed a marathon training plan. And by full fledge I mean, let’s get in all the long runs. All of them. Which also means, keep your pre-race-night eating rhythm. Which means, no dessert.

I know this. I also know my preferred serving of dessert means a lot of potty breaks during the next morning’s run. Rather than listen to my body these last two Friday nights, I told it, “I hear you. But sugar wins right now. You’ll have to deal with the consequences in the morning.”

Without TMI, let’s say yesterday’s run set a personal record! Hard to enjoy.

I think God might have been laughing at me around 9:30 this morning while my pastor was speaking. On an unrelated-but-not topic, he mentioned the importance rhythm plays in spiritual intake. It’s quite simple. Find it and stick to it. Consistency matters.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

As a disciplined person, I know this. But some days I allow myself to stray. I ALLOW MYSELF.

I’ve decided ahead. This Friday night, my body and my mind will sync. Pretty sure that means the odds of a better long run Saturday morning have risen significantly.

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Unsplash

A Good Reminder About Love

Thanks to Publix bogos and Valentines, I’m enjoying quite a bit of chocolate.

Doves are fun because of what you see in this picture…the quote inside the wrapper.

This one struck a chord.

For many reasons, our love gets tangled. That entanglement seems to produce forgetfulness.

Forgetfulness creates missed opportunities. One I’m guilty of is believing that someone I love can turn, can adjust, can choose good after a long wrestling.

Thanks for the reminder today, Dove.

Forgive Them…They Don’t Know Who They Are

On the way home from church a couple of hours ago, the radio DJ talked about the parenting challenges of getting kids ready in the morning, particularly families who go to church on Sunday.

She said it’s natural for the parent to get frustrated with their “uncooperative” child and ask, “Why are they giving me a hard time?” She suggested parents reframe both their minds and the situation by saying, “They aren’t giving me a hard time; they are having a hard time.”

Guess what? This isn’t only about parent child relationships. This seems to apply to a vast number of relationships.

The “giving me a hard time” framework easily leads to frustration, arguments, harsh and regretful words, anger, and potentially complete breakdown. Then comes the work, if chosen, of forgiveness.

When I consider society’s landscape, it’s in need of mounds of forgiveness. Ideally, parties in any conflict would reach this conclusion together and pursue it. From my experience, that’s not a realistic expectation. If I’m desiring forgiveness to start, I have to take the lead.

I’ve been in awe for years of Jesus’ words when he was dying, “Forgive them. They know not what they do.” In this line of thinking recently, I’ve found it useful to reframe that prayer to something like, “Forgive them. They don’t know who they are.”

Those words are not from an elitist, judging, or dismissing wrongdoing view. I believe many people who are hurting others are doing so while they are trying to answer their own questions. Often in blindness. Often in the comfort of what they know. Often in ways that seem right, based on an unchallenged view of themselves and their world.

Like the parent who has to find a way to church with a hurting child in tow, I have to find a way to be present with those who don’t know who they are. Why? I am one of them. I continue to realize how I didn’t know who I was in relationship to others, even in the last year. And many of them forgave me, often without me knowing it.

The power of forgiveness seems immeasurable. I’m working on giving it as much as I’ve received it. Especially to those having a hard time. They’re figuring out who they are.

Original Song Based on Word(s) of the Year

I started choosing a word for the year several years ago. The week before Christmas I was meditating on a list of potential words for 2026. One morning while reading through Matthew 5, a word, actually two words, not yet on the list jumped off the page based on this verse:

Matthew 5:41 “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”

Two Miles.

Literally or figuratively.

Either way, that’s a challenge to accept. Any step of obedience is, right?

I decided to attempt a melody based on these two words. Not sure it’s exactly right, but here’s what came to me.

Four Lifegiving Messages Following Four Sadness Journeys

One final takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things was this: Sadness is a journey to be embraced and valued.

Rohr’s connecting sadness as the avenue the prophets took to move from anger to compassion painted this reality. Sad is not something to “not be.” Instead, sadness is a normal, valid, and, therefore, valuable emotional journey to be completed, to be processed. If the journey isn’t taken, a compassionate life may never be found.

Following Rohr’s teaching, here are four lifegiving outcomes from the sadness journeys of four Old Testament prophets:

Isaiah wrote this after a sadness journey over social injustice:

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. – Isaiah 40:31

Jeremiah shared this after his sadness journey over covenant breaking:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

Habakkuk declared this after his sadness journey over suffering caused by evil:

The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. – Habakkuk 3:19

Zephaniah promised this after a sadness journey over abandonment of God’s ways:

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing. – Zephaniah 3:17

CHALLENGE: Think back to the completion of your sadness journey. What lifegiving message do you now have? Where could you share it? Who might be in need of it while they go through their sadness journey?

Photo by Ingo Doerrie on Unsplash

How Anger Can Lead to Compassion

My biggest takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things is an overall view of the Old Testament prophets that looks something like this:

Anger>Tears/Sadness>Compassion

Each prophet had a thing they were angry about, either themselves or on God’s behalf. Just that thought alone is oddly comforting. Anger is normal. No matter whose, mine or God’s. Being angry is part of being human. And for those who believe in being created in the image of God, that equates to it’s part of being God.

However, by the end of their writings, or at least woven in them, is a message of the loving nature of God. The prophet, speaking from their heart or God’s, shares the truth that their audience is loved. Somewhere along the way, anger has turned to compassion (more on that journey in the next post).

How? How does an angry person become compassionate?

One way the prophets do this is by letting truth step into the anger. Such as…

  • God’s heart is for all people, not just those that look or act like me (Jonah).
  • People’s actions don’t have to dictate my reactions to them or God (Jeremiah).
  • Disorder is normal. It’s in need of some holiness, which can start with me (Ezekiel).

Once the prophets embrace the truth of the situation from God’s viewpoint, they are moved to pursue the available redemption. They show compassion by…

  • Not withholding love from anyone (Jonah).
  • Forgiving and living peacefully with those who wrong them (Jeremiah).
  • Breathing life everywhere they go, even in places that appear lifeless (Ezekial).

Easy? No

Possible? Yes

If you’re stuck in anger, consider asking God for truth to enter your heart that could make way for redemption.

Photo by Trnava University on Unsplash

2 Temptations that Keep Us from the Dive of Love

I’m listening to Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things.

In chapter five he discusses the writings of Jeremiah. One aspect Rohr pulls out is Jeremiah’s challenge to not be attached to the exterior works of religion and to choose the inner transformation found in a relationship with the one being worshipped. Be more in love with God instead of the rituals that supposedly bring you closer to him.

This particular statement stung me:

Church loyalty is commonly substituted for the love of God. Loyalty is actually a form of codependency giving a warped sense of control and safety while love is a dive into perfect freedom.

Loyalty – I have wrestled with this value most of my life. I’ve come to the realization that the temptation to be loyal to what or who I can see is a great tool of the enemy. So yes, it’s easy to understand how one could substitute it for the real thing.

Codependency – This is a good possibility of why we choose that substitution. This temptation to be in control and to pursue safety is the oldest tool of spiritual warfare. It’s not a reason to run from the church; it’s a worthy awareness to maintain church health.

Love of God – I’ve been challenged several times over the last five years by those speaking into my life that my dive into perfect freedom needs more attention. That’s why this quote resonated. That is how I avoid yielding to these two temptations.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Hard, Shadowy Love

(A final word from Paul E. Miller’s book A Loving Life)

Part three, “Learning To Think in Love,” contains the most challenging yet helpful direction, particularly chapter 19. In describing discovering God on the journey of love, Miller digs into two main thoughts: the shadowy presence of God in our lives and the need to embrace the hard things in life to live out love.

God’s presence in the book of Ruth mirrors his presence in our lives. It is subtle. He doesn’t leap out like he did with Moses and the plagues in Egypt. If God regularly showed himself like he did at the Red Sea or the resurrection, there would be no room for relationship…By staying in the shadows, at the edge of the story, God creates the need for faith and thus intimacy. The hiddenness of God builds our faith muscles.

A practical illustration of how we live this out is in conversations. Living in the shadows looks like staying small, deliberately on the edge so others can emerge and come alive facilitated by our humility.

Not easy. Particularly in conflict or when things aren’t going as planned or expected. Ruth and Naomi’s journey was filled with hard.

Ruth discovers God and his blessing as she obeys, as she submits to the life circumstances that God has given her. So instead of running from the really hard thing in your life, embrace it as a gift from God to draw you into his life.

May we discover God on our 2026 journey of love.

Photo by Semyon Borisov on Unsplash