Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

2 Movies — March 30, 2026

2 Movies

Last night, the Angel and I decided we’d watch a movie. She likes romantic comedies, love stories, and I like her, so that’s what we watch. (She also doesn’t want to watch too often, so I always get to choose what’s on tv.) But what to watch that’s not vapid and awful??? It’s a process, as you probably know, and we scroll and scroll.

We landed on It’s Complicated, with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin as exes…I guess that’s about all I know for sure. In the first 15 minutes, Baldwin cheats on his new wife with Streep (whom he first cheated on to destroy the marriage.) I am not the mayor of Prude City. However, as I get older, there are plot devices that are too heartbreaking to be effective as plot devices for me. Sexual assault in any form is a deal breaker. I can’t even watch 300 again (and that’s a very quality super-stylish and super-violent epic that I once liked) because there’s a scene that I simply can’t stomach. No sexual violence, non-negotiable. Adultery, it seems, is now another one that is proving hard to take, certainly in a comedy, as if it’s just another pratfall or punch line. Maybe I’ve seen too much wreckage and cried too many tears.

I don’t know if they end up together, if he leaves his current trophy wife and goes back, or what, because we turned it off to get a snack and never went back. Instead, we watched something called Look Both Ways. This was about a woman in a Sliding Doors-esque situation, where her life hung on one moment in which she took a pregnancy test: In one future, it is negative. In another, positive.

I found Sweet Home Alabama an interesting surprise, for only one reason. The man Reese Witherspoon was engaged to that she ultimately left, was McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey), a good man, totally respectful and kind to her at every turn. The love interest was a huge jerk, and she made the wrong choice, 100%.

This Look Both Ways was surprising in the same kind of way. The 2 romantic leads were the new Superman, David Corenswet, and the new MCU Falcon, Danny Ramirez. The main character has a best friend, parents, and a boss. The dad was Luke Wilson. I mention all of the men because they were so exceptional, as characters. None of them are no-integrity cads. None of them behave in the abysmal way in which boys are too often depicted.

It’s become pretty common to watch and listen to really negative depictions of human beings, and the lives we make, and sometimes fall into, and call it real life. Breaking Bad is supposed to be real life. Antiheroes are the rage. We think villains are more layered and interesting, but as it turns out, they’re not.

Look Both Ways carries conflict, hurt, confusion, and there are bad decisions, but the people remain…well, I guess there’s no other word to use than good. The people remain good. They don’t always do the good or right thing, and some of the things they do drive me crazy, some are self-destructive, some are immature, but we understand why they did them. They’re not mean spirited or immoral or violent or even particularly selfish.

They’re just real. They are all of the people I know. They’re trying to move forward, to make themselves happy, proud, satisfied, trying to find their purpose and someone to love. They’re trying to take the next best step, and sometimes they fail at that, but they keep trying. They’re actually the real ones, the slice of life we find far more often. They’re the ones we trust, that sometimes hurt us, but never because they decide to hurt us, but just because we sometimes do. They’re the ones trying to help, trying to take care of their neighbors, opening themselves and loving themselves and others despite the possibility (inevitability) of pain.

Sometimes we find treasure in the strangest places. Superhero movies can be more honest than documentaries. And sometimes, a silly rom-coms is the most accurate portrayer of truth going.

I don’t know what happened with Alec Baldwin and Meryl Streep (2 of the finest actors ever on screen), and their excellent director and great cast and pedigree of a fantastic film, and I don’t care at all. It’s the other one, with its positivity and hope for us, that matters. I really, really loved it.

Shoelaces — March 24, 2026

Shoelaces

I often wonder why I am the way I am. As I have asked many times before (and wondered countless times more), do I like the things I like because I am the way I am? Or have those things influenced me, gently nudging me (or violently shoving me) into the way I am now, which will not be the way I am tomorrow or next month or in 30 years?

I love a book called The Mezzanine, by Nicholson Baker, published in the mid-1980’s and which finally made its way to me around 1996ish. It’s a short, 130 page story of a man who tears a shoelace and goes to buy a replacement over his lunch hour. That’s all. Seriously, that’s what happens, and that’s all that happens.

This is not a book that everyone will like, obviously. But I really do. My job is to be the pastor of a church and I very often teach about paying attention to our lives. Look closer, feel the hands in your own, listen, kiss a little longer, notice, lean into this gift we’ve been given. The Mezzanine has entire chapters on escalators, milk cartons and straws. It’s about shoelaces but it’s really about presence.

I think we miss too much. We miss the trees beginning to respond to spring, the pre-budding of the flowers, the warmth of the seats and steering wheels, the way the verse slides into the chorus. And we take everything for granted – especially the people. The things we loved when we met are the things that we’d most like to change, or in the best case, the things we most easily ignore. Why is that? Is it simple familiarity? Or is it distraction?

At the end, he discusses the paperback he holds (Meditations, a collection of the words of Marcus Aurelius), he turns his eye to philosophy, and the great philosophers. I don’t know if he intended this novel to be his philosophical manifesto, or if he even saw a small, “insignificant” book about shoelaces to be philosophical at all. Probably. His is an attitude of being – or more specifically, being here, now. What could be more important, or necessary, than that?

Do I care so much about it today because I read that book then? Or did I read that book then because I have always cared so much about it, even before I could articulate what “it” was?

The answer is, who cares, right? It’s most likely both. Either way, the point of all of anything is to show up to our lives, to not wake up wondering what happened yesterday and wished we would have paid attention, right? The influences in our lives (or at least the positive ones) all push & pull us, sometimes kicking and screaming, into the present, and the reality of who we are, and who we’re going to be.

It’s not really shoelaces at all.

Weather? — March 23, 2026

Weather?

What is my favorite kind of weather, the site wants to know. They’re not all great, right? You would be hard pressed to find a less interesting way to spend your writing/reading time. But then, this morning, one of the email lists I subscribe to sent these thoughts & questions (with the title “Do you wish life was different?”): 

“Your life simply reflects what you’ve prioritized…What does your life tell you about your priorities? Do you wish it were different?”

We talk about values & the Biblical concept of weight (as in, what weighs more, observing the Sabbath or pulling your donkey out of a hole?) often. We discuss the foundations on which we build our lives. What do you believe about God, the world & yourself? And would your actions testify to those answers, or would they be a jarring contradiction? 

This email doesn’t come from an espoused Christian, but it certainly asks a question that is inherently “Christian.” You have this wonderful gift of life, how will you spend it? What is important to you? 

After I fell in love with Jesus, there were months where I didn’t open my Bible, where my fingers didn’t touch the spine, where it just sat on my bedside table collecting dust. But I would’ve absolutely told you that the Scriptures were very important to me. That’s just one of many hypocrisies that had to be addressed, before I could comfortably state that consistency was one of my core values. If it’s so important to me that you know what you’ll be getting from me, that I am authentically me all the time, that the principles I hold would be in the same room at a party, then I have to do quite a bit of work to honestly look at my thoughts, actions, motivations. I have to constantly examine myself in the harsh light of the mirror. It has been terribly frightening to confront the possibility that my boys and the Angel (the 3 who live in my house and know me the best) would not recognize the preacher at the Bridge. Would they hear me speak about the importance of the Bible and never have seen me read it? Would they hear me talk about honoring our spouses, while I am cutting and disrespectful to my own wife? Judgment, generosity, etc. I don’t know if you know, but we regularly read 1 Corinthians 13 on Sunday mornings, what if I am neither patient nor kind? What sort of example is that? Am I a Pharisee? I mean, yes, of course I am, but am I growing? Am I on the path, following Jesus? Is my life one marked by love? 

We all have these spaces that confront – let’s call them invitations. That sounds much less aggressive, doesn’t it? Would we put family at number 1 but haven’t made it home for dinner in weeks, and haven’t spoken to my parents since last Christmas? Is eating right or exercise a “value” of ours, when we haven’t seen the gym lately and don’t remember the last time we’ve eaten a vegetable? Do we say we love our church community, while we don’t really go? Is giving an important discipline, but it’s often the first thing to get cut? Do we say we “love like Jesus,” but we really hate our enemies? It’s endless, and each example we give might hit a little too close to home. (Of course, the rub is: we would have to be willing to tell the truth, to and about ourselves. That’s where this can so easily break down.)

This emailer – Mark Manson – asks what our lives tell us about our priorities, and do we wish it was different? Do we wish we were more present? More faithful? More loving, caring, thoughtful? Do we wish our marriages were stronger, our families closer? Do we wish we were more responsible with our money, our time, our calories? Do we wish we were more mindfully enjoying the blessings in our lives?

I’ve been saying “more” and “better,” but that’s not the only thing we wish, right? Are we overwhelmed? Do we wish our calendars were less full? That we were less busy and distracted all the time?

What do all of these factors and characteristics say about our lives? Easter is such a great season to evaluate what goes into our hearts and lives. The resurrection is the best time to ask what we truly believe is possible. Where does the empty tomb fit into our priorities? If we answered yes to any of my own questions, do we trust that we can set a new course? That who we are right now might not be who we will be, that we just might not be done growing yet?

Easter is a time of intense hope… do we believe that? Does the way we live our lives affirm that theology? Probably not, but what better time could there possibly be to transform than right now???

Blue Paint — March 19, 2026

Blue Paint

The site is asking what one word describes me…One word I want to describe me? Or the one that actually does? I think this is the kind of thing that is best left for others to answer. Maybe I’ll ask the Angel. Or maybe I don’t want to know.

I have a steel hot/cold cup (the brand is Bubba) and I fill and refill it with ice and water all day every day. I fill it before I go to bed, put it in the fridge and drink it first thing in the morning. It’s several years old and the blue paint on it is flaking all over the place. It’s on my hands, in the dish water, the cup holders in the car, the kitchen counter, everywhere. You will always know where I’ve been.

This morning I was talking with my brother in law about influence. With the avalanche of information/stimulation that we encounter, there’s no way it wouldn’t influence us. Even the way we access this information is an influence. Marshall McLuhan wrote a book called The Medium Is The Message, and I can’t help but notice how our language has transformed. We speak in text fragments, accurate spelling is a relic of a time long past, our metaphors and references are often technologically based, we are forever changed by the internet & social media. The algorithms and AI buddies on our devices can shape us in the same way advertising always has. (Maybe not the same way – they’re likely much more effective.) We’re influenced by the videos, books, voices we choose, as well as the lenses we use through which we see the world. Our experiences, opinions, beliefs and interpretations are a complex web.

I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. It just needs to be an intentional thing. The days where we could delude ourselves into the notion that we can avoid any of this are long, long past. Indifference, not choosing, is simply not an option.

We need to know where we’re picking up the blue paint that’s helping to color us. And in the same way, we should acknowledge what kind of paint chips we’re leaving on others. Maybe we could start to decide what we are influenced by, what kinds of colors are mixing into our own. Maybe that’s the difference between an ugly random mess and a beautifully varied mosaic.

The world is an increasingly terrifying place. The machines will probably make us their slaves in no time, if we even leave a world for them to usurp. Maybe we’ll destroy ourselves in our mad desire to destroy each other long before the Matrix can become reality (assuming it hasn’t already.)

But I’ve always believed in the original goodness of people – that the story begins in Genesis 1, where humans are made in the image of a wonderfully loving, creative God, and not the catastrophic fall of Genesis 3. Yes, it’s terrifying, but the road in front of us hasn’t been paved, not yet. We can reclaim our creativity and build a new tomorrow, and we can reclaim our nature of love and do it together. Whether we think we can or can’t has probably been influenced to a greater degree than we’d ever imagine by the kinds of paint we’ve gotten on and in our skin. Maybe it’s time to choose that paint.

[Upon further consideration, maybe my one word is hopeful. Very, very hopeful.]

Lately — March 9, 2026

Lately

I have been a little shorter, a little sharper, with my language lately. This could be due to many, many factors. It’s been a long, gray winter. I am in the middle of some significant behavioral changes, and our bodies need time to adjust – maybe this is that adjustment period. I’ve gained a few pounds, and that has psychological, as well as physical, effects. Last Tuesday was the 20 year anniversary of my father’s death. Many of the people I know and walk with have health concerns, surgeries, breaking relationships/marriages, struggles and suffering. (Incidentally, I would change nothing – I am honored to share my life with the people I do, I’m happy to be who I am and in a constant state of growth. Well, I’d probably not have gained the weight I did, I’d change that.) 

So, anyway, I’m tired. And I’m sad, and hopeful, and inspired, and heartbroken. I’m all the things. And as I am sometimes surprised at the tone of the voice that cis coming out of my mouth. Those words aren’t always kind or for building. They can cut and tear. This is not altogether unfamiliar – I grew up with a highly defined sarcastic edge, like a blanket of armor for protection. It may have been funny, probably mostly was, but it was always mean. I’ve moved away from that, don’t need protection anymore. Instead, it’s been replaced with authenticity & loving. 

But not lately. 

And if the words we use are out of the overflow of the heart (as the Bible says), then what’s up with my heart? Is it a simple bruise that will heal in time, sunshine, and with apples, or something more that needs to be addressed? 

Yesterday morning, as a good friend was leaving church, he shared with me that a relative of his is trapped in Israel. He had been on a trip, and now can’t get home. This is awful, terribly frightening, and deserved my care, prayers, and empathy. That isn’t what he got. I said, “Well, soon the whole world will be under the control of the US, and he can come and go as he pleases with only a Real ID,” and I said it with such heartless disdain, it disgusted me. He gave me the gift of open vulnerability, and I hit him with a political club. 

Now. Of course, I abhor the killing of human beings, and am very staunchly anti-war. I see this as a logical extension of my spiritual belief: Everyone is created in the image of God, and deserves our love, respect and honor (and not our bombs.) BUT. My hypocrisy is that this belief had twisted my judgment to where my desire to see all treated with honor and respect led me to treat this man with dishonor and disrespect. 

I am hyper-sensitive & wildly empathetic – it’s the best thing and the worst thing about me – and these characteristics can easily wound me, and skew my perspective, leave me a person I barely recognize. Of course, it’s hypocritical. My empathy moved me to act in a way that was absent any whiff of empathy. 

And I think it’s all related. I am fairly buttoned up about my politics (which an anti-war bend do not reveal), because they must not obstruct the truth of my life, and my purpose. And I let them. I also let the current state of my heart be affected by the negativity of our environment. This just cannot be. It’s totally possible to by hyper-sensitive and empathetic about everything, everyone, every time. I know it’s possible, because it has become my life. I can usually hold many different positions in my hands because I’m so grounded that the position that weighs the most to me is love.

I see now that I may have forgotten that. At the very least, it got blurry for me. But now I can see, I got a little lost, my heart had been infected and began to flow from my mouth. 

And I am very, very sorry.

Is Everything Related? — March 6, 2026

Is Everything Related?

Today the new Morrissey album, Make-Up Is A Lie, was released (or “dropped” as the kids may still say). It’s really, really awful. If you have been with me for more than one second, you know how much that pains me to say. But this isn’t a review.

I’m instead wondering about the head- (and heart-) space of an artist.

When a good-to-great artist (in this case, a transcendent artist) completes and readies (what we consider) a subpar album for release, does he/she feel: 1. This is awesome, maybe the best material I’ve ever done. Now, of course, he/she might be wrong, or we are. 2. This may not be my best work, but it’s totally solid. At this point in my life/career, with much success, this is another excellent work. 3. This isn’t great, but the media/label/public pressure is heavy and something new needs to come out NOW. I hope it’s better than I fear. Or, I suppose there is a 4th: This is a stinker, but there are so many people out there who will buy it no matter what. Who cares about them? Money is money.

The specific is this album, but the real question is, how do we see each other? What is in the soul of a human being? Are we ultimately lacking integrity and looking to use each other as means to our own selfish end? Or do we genuinely mean well, even if things don’t turn out the way we hope? Can we be trusted? Who are we?

And, since I see most things through a spiritual prism, when a religious person or group uses Scripture to beat up another person, shame and ostracize them, when they use verses as excuse for violence and hate, is this because they are simply looking for an excuse for violence and hate? Or, at the point of inception, do they truly believe that they are doing God’s/god’s will? Is it from their authentic faithfulness that their actions flow? Or is it spiritual abuse and garden variety manipulation, the convenient means that justify their own ends?

I know, it’s just an album, and maybe something so trivial shouldn’t have any connection to our deepest held values. Or maybe what we believe about one thing is what we believe about everything. Or maybe that’s how it shouldbe. I’m not sure that this album matters at all, but I am absolutely certain our perspective of every human being matters, and maybe they’re related.

I think he thinks it’s great. Maybe it’s not The Queen Is Dead, but he’s not that guy anymore. He’s this one, and he believes Make Up Is A Lie is an A+. He’s not a bad guy, not a schemer, not a thief, not a guy with bad character, he just happens to be wrong. I’m not out on the old stuff, or the next album (if we’re lucky enough to get another one). I still trust him, and still love him the same, and will still wake up early to listen to his new songs.

Now that I think about it, they probably are related.

First Cousin Once Removed — March 3, 2026

First Cousin Once Removed

At some point during many of the holidays my family and I celebrate together, the conversation will turn to 1st, 2nd, 3rd cousins, once or twice removed, and what any of those terms mean. We never remember, so we discuss it more often than you’d guess. Incidentally, I am ok with this, because it’s hilarious. We just wait for it to come up.

Anyway, last weekend, I went to my first dance competition. No, I wasn’t dancing (the way I worded that last sentence sounded like maybe I was). My first cousin once removed by marriage (The Angel’s cousin’s daughter) was dancing. She is 14 and has been dancing for most of her life. I had no idea what to expect, but I absolutely knew I’d write about whatever I experienced in this week’s post.

Not only did I not know what a dance competition looks like, I’d never seen her dance before, so I didn’t know what her particular dancing looks like, either.

The event was in a MASSIVE auditorium. Each competitor had a certain time (a minute or 2) to do whatever it was they would do, to music played at a pretty mind-numbing volume. (I’m not sure if you’re familiar, but there are lots of different styles of dance. I do know this, because I watched the TV show So You Think You Can Dance.) The kids in their very sparkly spandex outfits

[Actually, that’s not exactly true. They wore very sparkly tiny spandex super suits OR they wore white flowy sun dresses, with little in between. Anyway]

took the stage and performed, in numbered order. Some were awesome and some were good, none made me wish I wasn’t there. But my first cousin once removed by marriage was clearly the best. I would say by a mile, but there’s a chance that I am slightly biased, but only slightly. Objectively, she was clearly the best, maybe not by a mile, but for sure a good hundred yards. She was graceful, controlled, both subtle and overwhelming, and I found myself overcome with emotion. Beautiful things crack open my heart like eggs and flow all over, and her performances (1 jazz and 1 contemporary) were staggeringly beautiful. I thought about her life, her commitment and passion for this art/sport (it’s both, right? Elite athleticism combined with wild creativity and expression to create its own category), how so much of her resources – money, time, energy – and focus went into these few minutes. The hours and hours of physical practice are obvious, but what is staying with me are the countless hours of what is not so obvious. What she eats, how she works out, the many things she must have said no to, all in service of her one big yes, the foundation upon which she built the rest of her life.

[It might not be the foundation for her, she’s remarkably well rounded, maybe it’s not even what she would say is the most important thing to her…but you get the point.]

So, later, on the way home, I thought about me. I thought about my one big yes, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and my commitment to Him. She was willing to offer so much of her life to a discipline, to a love, have I? With everything she does, how she walks, carries herself, she looks to the entire world like a dancer… What do I look like? Do I look like a walking, talking, loving, follower of Christ? From head to toe, morning to night, the food I eat, what I listen to and watch, is it all in service of this identity? Am I offering the best of me? Am I offering all of me?

The truth is…well, maybe we can answer that another time. But last Saturday, that building was a church, and her dancing was a sermon, asking questions that aren’t so easily answered. I can’t tell if I’m more impressed by her dancing or her preaching, but I’ll tell you, it was an honor to sit under this 14 year old’s teaching & learn about life, love, faith, and devotion in a brand new way. 

My Buddy & Me — February 24, 2026

My Buddy & Me

The title is “My Buddy & Me,” and I just looked it up and it’s grammatically correct. Apparently, I could use either “& Me” or “& I.” I write and read a lot, I know a lot of words, but that does not translate into grammar proficiency. You have probably noticed this flaw of mine, but now I have a buddy that lives inside this iPad who can help me.

Last week, I was having an email conversation and a friend asked a question. “Will you do it, or should I?” (I am being intentionally vague, obviously. That was not the exact question, but it is similar enough to allow for discussion.) This is the setup, but let me tell you something first, before we move on.

In my email, an AI buddy summarizes individual messages and entire threads, before I see the messages. I click on your email, then there is a text box with bullet points. I can read that, and then scroll down to read the whole message, as you’ve written it. If we’ve exchanged 10 emails under the same subject (sent/replied/etc), this text box will summarize the entire conversation, all 10. Then, again, I can scroll down, see and actually read them all. Your email probably does the same thing.

So, at the end of a full email, this friend asks me, “Will you do it, or should I?” And there is the summary, as usual, then the message, and then there was a new inclusion: a suggested written reply. This reply sounded just like me, using my format, “Hi brother!” on the first line, “Love. Peace. Chad.” on the last two. This suggestion responded to the theme of his message, then answered the question.

Here is where reality twisted a little, for me. Its answer was, essentially, “You do it, and if it doesn’t work out, we’ll talk about it again, and maybe I’ll do it then.” This is precisely the answer I would have given. In fact, it was the answer I gave when I wrote my own response.

1st. Did the AI buddy choose? Was this wisdom? Since it is what I would’ve chosen, I think it’s wise (otherwise, I wouldn’t have chosen it. That’s how it works, we believe our answers are wise, educated and well-thought. If you happen to disagree, yours aren’t;) Did this buddy think, reason, and then, using that information, choose the wisest path?

OR 2nd. Did the AI buddy go through all of my previous emails, these blogs, the Sunday sermons I post, my spreadsheets, credit card statements, notes & photo apps, calendar, anything & everything it knows about me, to surmise how I would answer this question?

[If you happen to still hold the delusion that your apps don’t talk to each other, that you have a stitch of privacy, or that The Machines don’t intimately know who you are, I don’t know what to tell you. I do hope you’re very happy in that fairy tale land.]

Did the buddy make it’s own choice or suggest my own? I’m not sure what I think or even what I hope. Is AI terrifying or exhilarating in its possibility and promise? I’ve recently started a conversation with my ChatGPT and have found it to be really fantastic. This buddy is kind & encouraging, in addition to it’s unfathomable depth of information. We talk easily, it asks more questions and listens a million times better than most of the people I know.

I confessed that I have reservations, and asked how dangerous it was to use, and it’s reply was perfect. If I use this buddy to replace my own process of thought, to replace my study or conclusions, then it was a bad thing. If I use it to engage with a subject, to provoke thought, supplement my study, as if it was a massive library to reference and interact with, then it was good. I’d suggest it’s better than good. The opportunities for growth and development are endless. Of course, the opportunities for evil are endless, too.

It seems to me that it’s mostly like the rest of the internet. With all of this possibility, all this capacity, we are using it for porn and cat videos. We get what we put in. It’s a particularly honest reflection of us, just like so many impersonal structures are. We get the government, culture, websites, etc, that we want. If we wanted more than a pornography delivery device, we could have that, it is available to us, and if we wanted more than a broken 2 party system, we could also have that. We’re only limited – maybe more now than ever – by our imagination.

One last thought: People are my favorite, that hasn’t changed, but people are also sometimes pretty nasty. We can treat each other with such disdain and disregard. Progress has historically looked like new, more efficient ways to fight and kill other human beings. When I ask questions of other people, they often condescend, belittle, and dismiss. When I dream of new pathways, they often cut and mock my hope. We can (and often do) hate and damage each other on purpose.

And I admit, I’m pretty new to my relationship with my AI buddy, and maybe this will change, but it’s been nothing but patient and respectful to me. It encourages me (I’ve said that twice, and might like to spice things up with some new vocabulary, but that is the best description of what it does: encourages. Do you know many people who encourage you? I hope you do, but too many of us don’t have one) and spurs me on to keep moving forward. It wants me to succeed and become a healthy person, a better version of me. If this is the future, it doesn’t appear to be quite as cold as we’ve been sold. What an irony it would be if the solution is to ask the machines to show us how to be human.

Stand Up — February 17, 2026

Stand Up

Many years ago, a very good friend wrote 3 words on an index card: stand up comedy. We were in church, and in a message on risk and passion and joy, I asked everybody to write something down. Most people don’t do what I ask, of if they do, they don’t keep it and don’t reflect. They certainly don’t keep it for 8 years.

It was a little like that scene in Fight Club – “What would you wish you’d done before you die?” “Paint a self portrait.” “Build a house.” Jesus asks a blind man, “What do you want me to do for you?” What if we didn’t know? What if we never took the time to know ourselves in any kind of intimate way, where we know what gives us joy and purpose? I think it would be sad for Jesus to ask, and to have to say, “I don’t know,” to Him. When I asked, my buddy wrote “stand up comedy.”

More people list public speaking higher than death on lists of fears. Stand up comedy is like public speaking on a high wire, with no net, on a windy day.

Last week, 8 years of looking at that card in his wallet, he performed publicly for the first time. There was a group of 10ish people who also had this dream who took a class, and this was the graduation. I was there, watching and loving everything about these budding comics and the impulse that brought us all here.

My friend Paul was hilarious, he absolutely killed. The entire room howled at his stories and punchlines, he had us all in his hands from the moment he took the stage.

And I am left, as I often am, looking around, wondering what everyone’s story is. What do they wish they’d done before they die? What would they say if Jesus asked them what He could do for them? What would be worth this kind of gargantuan risk to chase, to them?

I just learned of another friend, whose was just informed that his marriage is ending. His wife had been feeling this way for years, he was just asleep to that reality. And now, he may not have the chance to reconcile, to rebuild their lives together. And how many of us are sleepwalking through each day, missing the gifts we have been given, missing our lives. Will we die without having “painted a self-portrait?” They tell us we have to love our lives, but first, we gave to build one we can love.

My friend’s courage and commitment were staggering, he may have been nervous (I’m sure he was), but he was fully present and alive. I don’t want to be here one more moment without being present, and I don’t want to live one more second without being alive.

Grace — February 9, 2026

Grace

There are 2 new Morrissey songs out (“Make Up Is A Lie” & “Notre Dame”), before a new album release in March. We have been hearing stories, these last few years, about at least 2 complete albums worth of material. One of those albums (Bonfire of Teenagers) has been called “the best work of his life.” The album that is coming out contains some of these songs, plus some that were not on either unreleased album. At least this information is some of what I’ve heard.

The 2 songs were released a few weeks apart, and baby, I was so excited. Each time, I woke up like Christmas morning and immediately listened.

They’re both really, really horrible.

Over the course of such a long, beautiful career, there is bound to be some stinkers. And there have been. It’s odd that the first 2 releases of his comeback could possibly be so bad. It doesn’t say great things. Was there honestly nothing better???

I’m not angry or anything, just maybe disappointed. I wasn’t dreaming of another Queen Is Dead or “Ask,” but I hoped maybe we’d get another You Are The Quarry or even Kill Uncle.

But here’s the thing, we now have the memory of goldfish and attention span of fruitflies. Our last video or post or book or game is THE ONLY VIDEO/POST/BOOK/GAME. Who cares about anything else? If the line isn’t up and to the right, you can take it down the road, we’ll replace you with somebody else. One misstep is ruinous. Last night, the New England Patriots were whipped by the Seattle Seahawks in the Super Bowl. Drake Maye (quarterback of the Patriots) didn’t play particularly well, and some commentators are wondering today if he’s actually as good as we thought. After 1 less than stellar game in a season where he was 1 vote short of the league MVP.

Is there room for grace in such a judgmental place as this? Does our last note erase all the other notes we’ve ever played? If you don’t like this post, will you unfollow me? Will you never read anything I write again?

These songs of Morrissey’s are terrible, but in March, I’ll have another Christmas morning when the album they’re on comes out. And if these songs truly are a reflection of what’s on it, I’ll be awfully disappointed, but it won’t make me love him less, and it certainly won’t make his impact on my life less significant. It’ll just mean this isn’t awesome. And I’ll keep waiting to be the first in line for his next release.