Gratitude-ful

Posted July 25, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.” (Colossians 3:16)

If you gather a few long-timers, like myself and others whose knees also making cracking sounds, we will surely talk about how it used to be. We will get all starry-eyed and emotional thinking about when we only had three TV stations to choose from (one of them as fuzzy as a month-long unshaven senior citizen). We may even remember the days we had to cook our own dinner not from a box or in a microwave, but rather from scratch. We refer to the glory days of our youth.

However, most of us…no, all of us have adjusted to the times. We adapted to microwaveable family-sized meals and have no desire to go back to how it used to be. “How it used to be” is now a display in a museum meant to entertain and amaze younger audiences. We adapted to the new ways that are either faster, more convenient, less labor-intensive, or don’t require a learned skill set. We adapted and now, instead of considering a return to what we grew up with, we think of what could be another improvement. We’ve made what is better a part of our lifestyle and have now become consumers to demand more.

In fact, our culture now includes consumers who are adult versions of whining kids, quick to post on social media about the plumber who showed up thirty minutes later than he said he would and berating the sudden disappearance of one of our 145 cable channels. In other words, we b become accustomed to what is better and acquire a sense of entitlement about receiving more.

How do we avoid being snotty-nosed, irritated, hard-to-get-along-with grown-ups? The key, which is hard to find amongst the critical environment we live in, is “Gratitude.” Our lives improve the moment we become thankful.

I know, I know, there’s a day each year when we do that thankful stuff. Well…perhaps…gratitude is more than a late November drive-by that has become dominated more by pro football games than gatherings around a dinner table. Gratitude is a quality that needs to resonate with us as much as our feelings about what used to be and what is. When we look around us with eyes intentionally bespectacled with gratitude, it changes our perspective. Maybe it even alters our demeanor and attitude.

As I write this, I am thankful for the cup of coffee that sits perched beside my laptop…and the thought about gratitude that planted itself inside my head…and the Lord who leads me…and the Holy Spirit that guides me…and the new day that is just beginning. When I root myself with gratitude in my heart, new psalms and songs begin to form inside my soul. In the downside of life, a spirit of gratitude keeps me anchored.

It’s what I’ll choose to lean into this day. As I lift my Yeti to my lips and take a sip of my Pike Place, I’ll seek to live out of gratitude.

Amen.

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1,999 Pieces

Posted July 14, 2026 by wordsfromww
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 “Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’  In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:8-10)

I like jigsaw puzzles. In the last ten years or so, I’ve started a tradition of doing a Christmas puzzle. I look for a new puzzle, usually on Amazon or at a summer rummage sale, that features a Christmas scene of some kind. Right after Thanksgiving, I start putting the border outline out and slowly recreating the scene.

This past Christmas, I found a 2,000-piece puzzle that was going to challenge my color-blindness limitations. There were a number of shades and tones that were difficult for me to figure out, but I gave it a go. Life busyness got in the way and the puzzle took shape at a turtle’s pace.

Christmas came and it wasn’t even close to being done. January, February, a trickle was flowing from the box onto the tapestry. March, April…surely it would be completed by Easter! I mean, the life journey had gone from the birth of Jesus to his death and resurrection…but it still wasn’t finished.

My wife Carol was beginning to wonder if I was waiting until next Christmas. Our dining room table continued to be partially “Christmas-tized.” Finally…finally, in the first week of June…it was done!

Wait a minute! All the pieces had found their rightful fit, but, what’s this…there is a missing piece…but there aren’t any other pieces! I had form-fitted 1,999 pieces. 1,999 had found their purpose for existence, but one piece…one piece had become non-resident.

I searched the floor. I went to where I was eye-level with the surface of the puzzle, hoping that my color-blindness was hiding the final solution. I searched under the living room furniture, under the curtains, and in the heating vents on the wooden dining room floor. There is something self-defeating about working a 2,000 piece puzzle that is only 99.95% complete.

Carol came up with another suggestion. Just by chance, maybe the robotic vacuum we have sucked it up. I highly doubted it, but let’s check. We took the bag that it discards its debris into after it gets back to its docking station. I thought back to the vacuum cleaners my parents had that gave you a workout, moving them, carrying them, unplugging and plugging, and the limited amount of sucking power they had.

But…let’s look. We took the bag outside (Smart idea…but not mine!) and held it over the garbage can, where we slowly emptied the massive amounts of hair, dust, more hair, crumbs, and then a quarter, more hair, and a penny. The bag was almost empty, but we were twenty-six cents ahead.

And then just as I was about to give up sifting through the dust and hair, there it was! Piece number 2,000, hiding underneath some cracker crumbs and something else that no longer resembled am item that once had purpose.

Piece #2,000! Just like the lost coin of Jesus parable, the search and more searching…and Carol’s perseverance, produced what had been missing. It’s amazing how one puzzle piece, in essence 0.05% of the picture, produced satisfaction and a change in my demeanor.

How much more do the angelic hosts sing praises over one lost person who finds the Way?

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Approaching Grace

Posted July 12, 2026 by wordsfromww
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” Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

In the midst of the valley of loss, I’ve been walking through, I came face-to-face with a road sign that said “Grace Ahead. Approach with Confidence.” The small print beneath the bright gold sign bore the words of Hebrews 4:16 in spectacular cursive curls and swirls.

The news of what lay ahead and, actually, had already been traveling in, slowed my pace and lifted my chin from its stare at my feet. Jesus had been waiting. Like a Kansas Interstate roadside rest stop, he had been awaiting my realization of the need to pull to the side, to stop for mercy, to find the welcome of grace.

Receiving mercy is not an easy thing for me. It’s a humbling indication of my stumbling humanness, a reminder that the “S” on my T-shirt doesn’t stand for Superman, but rather one of many other “S” words like stupid…and stupid…and simply stupid. In fact, I have a T-shirt that says pretty much the same thing. “S” doesn’t stand for Superman.

Receiving mercy is the promise of our Father, and yet, I too often speed by the offer, thinking that getting on with the journey is more important than a quiet encounter with my Creator.

Today, the gift of discoverable grace has so overwhelmed me that I’ve given up the fight of holding back the tears. It is my time of need, my time of stillness. The road sign from Hebrews reminds me that I don’t need to cringe in doubt and fear, that, like the story of Jesus welcoming the children, there are open arms extended for me.

I am not suddenly exiting the valley of loss, but I am assured of a traveling partner Who is incredibly comforting and understanding.

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Things That Perplex Me

Posted July 10, 2026 by wordsfromww
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I have random thoughts that just come…kinda like finding a penny on a walk around the block and thinking, “This is valuable! King Soopers doesn’t even give these out anymore at the store when they give you your change.”

Random…momentary light bulbs with suspect wattage.

Like…the email I got today from Red Lobster informing me that “Endless Shrimp Would be Ending Soon!” How does something that is endless…end?

Here’s another thought that came to me last week as I watched a vehicle change lanes back and forth like the road was a slalom course. “I wonder if he changes churches that quickly; doesn’t like something in this place so he hops to the next building, and then the next, and then the next.” Lane hoppers are like church hoppers. They can’t stay the course.

Or what about the screaming kid in the grocery store, who is pushing his parent to buy that bag of candy? Why doesn’t my wife let me have what I want when I scream, fall to the ground, and kick my feet? Why does she just walk away and leave me there?

Why has my mailbox been filled with political postcards that hammer away at the evil, out-of-touch, under-qualified, overly arrogant person who is running for some elected position, while whoever sent the postcard appears in an almost angelic pose?

And… why do I get the same postcard again the next day? Are the senders trying to say something about my memory?

Whose bright idea was it to allow motorcycles to come up between two lanes at a stoplight? They are the new entitled citizens, as they sprint from the light and zoom away from us poor vehicle-driving smucks.

And now we have e-bikes that are going 30 miles an hour…on the sidewalk, passing poor Mildred, trying to take her poodle for a walk. Pretty soon, pedestrians will be walking on the grass like it’s the normal thing to do.

Why do my knees ache every time I come down the stairs in the morning…and my hips…and my lower back…and my toes…and…

Why do I feel guilty if I don’t leave a tip for the pimply-faced sixteen-year-old at the fast food establishment even after a third of my three-item order never made it into the bag? Is it my lifelong existence in Baptist congregations that causes the guilt response of a twenty percent tip?

If I decided to get a full-sleeve tattoo on my left arm, would I still be able to see the goosebumps? (I’m not, in case you’re wondering! I can barely endure my four-year-old grandson putting a sticker on the back of my hand!)

Why do ripped jeans cost more?

Why does the entertainment industry, more often than not, portray clergy persons (pastors and preachers) as doofuses, allergic to laughter, and not people you would want to have conversations with?

Random thoughts. I can’t help it. Hey! There goes a squirrel! I wonder if squirrels work eight-hour shifts and then go home to their squirrel recliners? I wonder if squirrels leave a tip for other squirrels?

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Grief Coaching

Posted July 1, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

My coaching buddy and friend, Joe Miller, passed away about a week and a half ago. I wrote about it in my last blog post.

Briefly summarizing, he collapsed at the end of the kids’ basketball camp session we were doing at the high school, and he could not be revived. We did CPR, got the paddles of the AED device ready, but he was gone.

Our high school girls’ basketball players were there helping with the camp for young kids. For most of them, before they were quickly ushered out of the gym, the last scene they unfortunately had to take with them of their coach was him laying on the gym floor. It’s a memory that will be difficult to heal from.

So, the last few days have had me coaching them, not in basketball, but in dealing with their grief. Grief coaching is similar to basketball coaching in that the person never reaches a point where you don’t have to work on it. Like practicing your jump shot, it’s a constant journey, an ongoing part of the game of basketball that must be worked on.

Grief is like that. It is a continuing journey that will never reach a point of finality. There will always be moments of reflecting, struggles with keeping emotions under control, and battles of isolation and inappropriate behavior. It’s a journey, a hard journey, peppered from time to time with laughter and storytelling.

Sometimes in coaching, the coach has to let the team, or an individual, work through it. He figures out when to get involved and when to sit outside the goings-on. My grief coaching mirrors that. Sometimes I need to explain, and sometimes the grievers must be allowed to go through the fires. Since grief is different for each person, as a coach, my sensitivity to the situation dictates my response. I look for the one who pulls to the side because the moment is too painful, and I look for the one who dominates conversations instead of being part of them.

Honestly, my soul is weary, and I recognize my need to grieve as part of them, but also by myself… quiet moments in the steps of long walks.

But, like with my players, it’s a journey.

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Missing Joe

Posted June 21, 2026 by wordsfromww
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My friend and coaching buddy, Joe Miller, had a medical emergency at our kids’ basketball camp Friday morning, and, despite giving him CPR and having the EMT’s come and continue working on him, he could not be revived.

Two days later, I’m just beginning to come out of “crisis mode”, where your focus is on the situation, and then our players and Joe’s family, figuring out who needs to be contacted next. Coming out of crisis mode means the impact of the loss hits you in the gut and your emotions play havoc with your reactions that usually don’t cause a reaction, your need for alone time that, at a moment’s notice transitions to a need for together time, and also your own mortality that you realize is as fragile as that glass vase you’ve been afraid will be accidentally knocked off the counter and shatter into a thousand pieces.

This was my third year as an assistant for Joe on the Liberty High School girls’ basketball staff. We worked well together, enjoyed the humor of situations, shook our heads at the weird things that happened, and the out-of-control people we would sometimes encounter at games. When you’ve shared history, you cherish the retelling of shared experiences.

Both of us were from southern Ohio, he from Lucasville and I from Ironton, two towns less than an hour’s drive apart. We knew similar stories from our neck of the woods. I bought him a book last year about the professional football days of Southern Ohio, when Portsmouth had a team, and Ironton had the Ironton Tanks. Those were pre-NFL days, and we enjoyed the history of the ancient past.

For me to write this blog about Joe is part of my dealing with the grief. I needed to put it into words. It may not be read by many folk, but the “number of readers” has no connection to my walk with his loss.

Pray for the Liberty Lancer girls who were there when he collapsed. The painful ache they are experiencing reveals the specialness of their relationships with their coach. Pray for his family, his wife and three children who are in their young adulthood.

What drew me to join Joe in coaching the Lancers was his character and integrity. I had coached his son back in middle school, so we had a long history of knowing each other and respecting each other. There are coaches who know the game but are tyrants to their players, and there are coaches who have solid relationships with their players but can’t teach the game to save their players. Joe knew the games, loved his players, and was loved by his players. That’s why I said yes when he asked me to join him. And it’s why the pain is intense right now. I don’t have my friend to retell the shared stories with. He’s not there for me to say, “Remember when…”

He will, however, always be remembered.

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The Challenge of Newness

Posted June 14, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

It is a summer of newness. New basketball players who are new, or almost new, to the sport. Like me appearing on the beach after a winter of wearing warm clothing, my skin so white it hurt the eyes to see me, I have basketball players who are completely untanned from any exposure to the game of basketball.

One new player doesn’t understand the differences between a zone defense and a man-to-man defense. When we play zone, she chases another player around the court like she’s trying to catch a rabbit, and when we play man-to-man, she’s as immovable as a stone statue.

Four other players believe it is mandatory that they dribble the basketball with their right hand when they get it! I’m taking the air out of the basketball for practice! My guess is that most of them will still try to dribble it.

New ventures have their bumps and oops. No one is a natural basketball player. The fundamentals need to be understood and taught in order for the new player to see how the basics all fit together to make the student into a player.

The same principle could be applied to new believers in Jesus. No one on their own understands the grace of God, the cross of Christ, or the forgiveness of sin. To a new follower of Jesus there needs to be discipling, teaching, modeling, and coaching.

When I put a new basketball player on the court without instruction or guidance, chaos is likely to happen. They could be playing defense when we’re on offense, run with the ball instead of dribbling it, shoot at the wrong basket, throw to the wrong team, stand in the wrong place, decide to go to the restroom even though they are new of the players in the game. Weird things happen when new players try to function in a game they don’t quite understand yet.

New followers of Jesus can end up creating their own understanding of the gospel as a result of not being discipled in the true gospel. They may have done some watching of how people who say they are Christians act, what they do, and the words they say. In other words they may be able to learn the language of Christianity, the actions of the Christian faith, and the looks of the faith, but not understand the reason for the Christian faith. They might understand parts, but not the whole.

When you come to think about it, that was a problem that was evident in the early churches to which Paul wrote his epistles. The Galatians had their Judaizers who didn’t understand grace. The Corinthians…well, they had a lot of warts that they didn’t seem to see, resulting in a theology that was more warped than that old record album that was left too close to the fire. The Colossians needed some guidance on the divine nature of Jesus, and the Thessalonians needed some clarification on what happens to people who have died.

Newness needs shaping. I’d better say that, but better. Newness needs grace-filled shaping. There’s a new person who has been created through Jesus. Who they have been is being redefined by who they now are. In many ways, they are the same people, but they now have a new purpose, a new understanding of who they are and why they are.

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Grandfatherly Advice

Posted June 4, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Listen, my son, to your (grand) father’s instruction and do not forsake your (grand) mother’s teaching.” (Proverbs 1:8)

My oldest grandchild graduated from high school a week ago. He had turned 18 just thirteen days before that. That’s a lot going on in a short amount of time. Here is what I said to him before the ceremony…with additional comments added, because that’s what pastors do…get wordy!

Dear Jesse,

I can’t believe you’ve reached that point on your journey where you can proudly hold that high school diploma up (Although the school hadn’t actually put it in your nice-looking folder yet.). Congratulations, oldest grandson!

As you go forward, two simple pieces of advice that I hope you’ll keep in mind. Notice that I said simple. They are, and yet it is extremely easy to lose one’s perspective and drift away from them. I, for one, have drifted more often like a six-year-old drifting away from the boys’ clothes and toward the Legos in Target.

So, first of all, Jesse, make it a priority to do what GOD needs you to do before YOU get enamored with doing what YOU want to do. A life that honors God is one that keeps that in mind. The world will always tempt you to do what you want to do. Most of the time, that means doing what the culture wants you to do and what it wants you to be. Remembering who you are, a follower of Jesus saved by the grace of God through the sacrificial love displayed on the cross, is easy to drift away from. God needs you to be a devoted follower of Christ. You are precious in His eyes, but also pivotal for the achieving of His purposes.

And second, Jesse, what God wants you to do, simply put, is what you need to do. He won’t force it on you, but please understand if He is able to create the universe out of nothing, He is more than able to navigate for you the course for your life, a way that will be fulfilling and purposeful, impactful for generations to come.

However, the challenge is being able to filter the wants of God to stand alone from the wants of Jesse. As we grow in our relationship with Jesus, you’ll discover that your wants and God’s will align more and more. Such alignment brings with it challenges, but also an inner peace that your life is God-honoring.

Jesse, what you need to do is what god wants you to do. Blessings on you as you begin the next part of the journey.

Love You!

Granddad

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Giving Up Books

Posted June 2, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)

I took an armload of books to the public library yesterday. They have a place where donated books can be left. So…with tears…and a prayer as if I was standing at a grave site, I left them for future unknown readers. If I had a handful of dirt in my hand, I would have thrown it on the covers.

Books are my chocolate, my weakness. Amazon makes it too easy. Garage sales are like going on a hunt for buried treasure. Of course, I haven’t read all the books that I have. Many of them have been a part of my library since Moby Dick was a minnow. They make creaking sounds as I open their covers. The pages have yellowed. Dangling threads reveal a time when book covers were made differently.

Giving up books is like giving up my tickets to a Colorado Rockies game. No, just kidding on that one. It would be more like giving up my first-class seat on a transatlantic flight and having me sit between two toddlers who persist in synchronized bawling. So…understand that taking that armload of literature to the library is a step toward maturity.

Honestly, if I passed away in the next few days, Carol would box up almost all of the books and donate them to the library. They wouldn’t survive past the viewing! So…I’m the one who is obsessed. Carol would be ready to turn the page, so to speak.

Each of us has something that could be labeled as our kryptonite, the thing that we treasure to excess. The thing we envision being a part of heaven’s mansion. For some, it might be a pantry of cookies and baked goods. For others, it’s a vault filled with cash and bonds. For still others, it’s family pictures that tell of past journeys and blessings.

What is it that gets stored up? What is it that I think twice about parting with? What is it that would not survive a catastrophe? The harsh, honest truth is that most of our treasures will end up on the curb, at Goodwill, or given to someone who will end up putting them in a box and dumping them in the far corner of the basement. Although our treasures have value to us, in the eyes of others they are junk or, at best, a bother.

What does have value is our relationship with Jesus? Although others may not comprehend its priceless significance, our relationship with Jesus will neither rust nor tatter. Thieves can’t take it. Judgmental people can’t render a verdict against it. Pessimists can’t peck away at it. It’s a treasure that retains its value…for eternity.

It’s painful, but I’m on a mission to lessen the number of books on my shelves and increase the volume of my intensity with Jesus.

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Finding Harmony

Posted May 28, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.“

 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.  If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Romans 12:16-18)

Working with young people (middle school and high school) has exposed me to numerous interesting situations and personalities. Kids can be the most caring people on the face of the earth and, in a different situation, can also be the most insensitive, cruel creatures.On one day you can witness an outpouring the collections for the local food pantry, as well as someone stealing a classmate’s bag of Cheetos. One middle school teacher I was substitute teaching for would describe her students as “awesome and on task” one day and “feral” the next.

Why is it that a group of adolescents has such a hard time finding harmony? Why is it so difficult for them to “live at peace with everyone?” My answer, although I have no research to support it, is that they simply mimic what they see adults doing. The circumstances might be different but the roots are the same. When fights breakout between adults at graduation ceremonies (From kindergarten to high school), you have to shake your head and ask yourself if the video is AI or real?

Answer: It’s real.

Was the Apostle Paul so clueless as to suggest that we should be about seeking peace and harmony in how we relate to one another and treat each other? Were his words as absurd as someone believing the Washington Wizards will win the NBA Championship in 2027?

It seems that Paul believes it. Not the Wizards being champions, but rather that followers of Jesus are able to live in harmony and peace. In his podcast to the Romans, he mentions things for them to NOT do. Conceit is not to take root, not even to make a brief appearance. Pride needs to be surrendered. It leads to an attitude that won’t admit being wrong. Put two prideful people together and you have the plot line for an afternoon TV soap opera. And how about repaying evil for evil? That’s just another way of saying “seek revenge.” Getting even with someone is the attitude that will lead to another Hatfields and McCoys battle that will escalate and continue until people can’t even remember what they’re at odds about.

And Paul says to do what is right. Not what feels good and gets some press in the paper, but rather what is the God-honoring, Christ-reflecting thing to do. Be willing to associate with people who are different than you. That is, establish a culture that is committed to equality and mutual respect for everyone. For a sarcastic example, instead of the Baptists beating the Methodists to the restaurants after church on Sunday morning, rub elbows with one another in the same cafe booth. Harmony often gets pushed to the side when we become more focused on our differences instead of remembering the sacredness of our core similarities.

I know, I know…Paul is talking to people of a different time, culture, and circumstances. We raise our hands to make that excuse out of our determination to feel right, instead of a need to feel togetherness and…harmony! I’m afraid there will always be those folks to, figuratively speaking, can’t carry a tune but can easily destroy a soothing melody.

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