2025-11-05T17:14:08+00:00

Yet Another Post on Gratitude

November 5, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Last night, my family and I had a fight before church. That’s a funny idea, isn’t it? And hour before I’d be giving a message of love, patience, and reconciliation, we were standing in the hallway between the kitchen and living room, raising our voices, loudly voicing our expectations of ourselves and the others, before we realized (as my wife so brilliantly stated) “we’re in a Three’s Company episode.”

Three’s Company was The Greatest Show In TV History and every episode followed a template etched deeply in stone. The set-up led to a big, hilarious misunderstanding, followed by a happy resolution, all in 22 minutes, set to a regrettable 70’s laugh track.

Our misunderstanding was easily resolved, too, and would have been in less than 22 minutes if only 1 of 2 things would have occurred. 1. We would have not had any expectations. This is obvious, probably. Anytime we decide who goes in what boxes before they even have a chance to choose for themselves, we create the perfect environment for relational catastrophe. We have grown miles in this arena, but we still manage to occasionally fall anyway. Which leads us to the 2nd. We would have clearly expressed our stories, correcting the misunderstanding as it began to unfold. This eventually happened, and as my oldest son explained, I knew we had wasted an hour of our lives on boxes and faulty stories and a dumb Three’s Company plot without the laughs.

And this made me think of something I wrote in a text message to The Angel earlier. (I recognize that I talk about this woman as if she is an actual angel, and it must make us all nauseous, but she is… or at the very least, she is to me, and this is a great illustration of the point I’d like to make.) I thought about what makes our marriage different. Yes, of course, she’s the best, but maybe even more than that, I am deeply deeply grateful that God brought her to me and allowed me to love her. I told her that what I figured makes us different is the gratitude.

As I sit in a worn out chair in a room with old, poorly laid carpet that has been stained by pets in some areas, I love where I sit, which is to say, I am totally thankful for this perfectly imperfect space where I sit. My muscles are sore from a tough workout yesterday. And I know how almost everything in that sentence is wonderful and extraordinary. Yesterday I spoke with my sister, every Tuesday at 9am I speak with my sister. I could continue, and I would. But these blessings are almost ridiculous to think could ever, in any wildest dream, happen to me.

So, now, what about our fight? I just forgot to be grateful. This sounds silly because, how can you forget as you’re looking into the eyes of your son and wife? Right?!!? How can you, indeed. And yet, I did. I guess that’s what makes gratitude a practice. When I was a baseball player, I could do certain things that I couldn’t today, only because I haven’t done those certain things in 100 years. I’m out of practice. Because I could throw a fastball on the outside corner yesterday or in 1996 doesn’t mean I can now. And just because I was peacefully grateful and aware at lunchtime yesterday doesn’t mean I couldn’t be fighting with these divine gifts at 6pm.

This is yet another post on gratitude because I need it, we all need to be reminded of the grace that is crackling all around us. In a world that can be so full of ugliness, where we can be distracted beneath our anxiety, depression, and fear, it’s easy to forget. And it’s our job to remind each other of the overwhelming beauty and love that is all around us.

Season Passes

October 6, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This summer, my youngest son and I used our season passes to go to the local amusement park (Hersheypark) once or twice a week, every week, throughout the summer. We love roller coasters, this is certainly true, but the motivation, at least for me, was to spend these few hours with him. He didn’t always take his phone and hardly ever looked at it. We just walked and talked, compiled lists (about everything), watched people, laughed, lost our breath, got and stayed dizzy, and walked some more. As far as great ideas we’ve had, this is up there towards the top.

Then, in August, he set sail for college and, as next year’s passes went on sale, I asked if he’d like to do it again. Probably not, was his answer. He’d hopefully have an internship. Of course, he would. Maybe he won’t even come home next summer.

Some things you don’t hear with your ears, you feel with your heart.

I pretended that it didn’t hurt, oh yeah, sure, no problem. And I started to think about Jesus.

There’s a story in the Bible, (I’m not sure if this is what the passage actually means…you know, I’m not even sure if “actually means” is important. If the Scriptures reach you in a beautiful, significant way, than maybe that’s the only “actually” that matters. Anyway.), after the resurrection, Mary cries out to Jesus, Who says, “Don’t hold on to me.” That’s an interesting thing to say. Why not? He was dead and now is alive, why can’t I hold on to you? Why can’t I hold you so tightly I never lose you again?? But maybe He’s saying holding on, trying to keep things as they are, static, unchanging, isn’t how this whole thing works. Maybe this whole creation is about movement, growing, about transformation. And none of that happens while we’re sitting down, arms folded, pouting, wishing time to stop, holding on to how it is.

[…I had a political thought here, but decided to excise it. We have a tendency to get stuck in our political quicksand, and miss everything else, so unless your thought, or in this case, post, IS about politics, it’s just an obstacle, isn’t it?]

So, I wanted to hold on to (another translation says “cling to”) my boy, Hersheypark, this summer. I also want him to go, meet people, take classes, do all of the things he wants to do. I want him to have the best internship anyone has ever had. But I wish his new life included Hersheypark with me. All of this is simultaneously true, and it’s sometimes hard to hold together, with peace and grace.

I guess we all have a choice, in every moment.

I’m writing this now, but I’ll post it while the Angel and I are on vacation. I might not want to sit down and write from the beach or while I could be holding and smooching her. This vacation will be (is) awesome, and maybe I won’t want to come home. Maybe I’ll want to cling. Then what?

Our choice is to hold on with white knuckles, full of rage and fear, trying to steer this ship where it will not go. OR. We can be here now, enjoy it, and soak in every last drop of the blessing, let it change us, and move forward as new me’s and you’s.

“Don’t hold on to me.” Don’t hold on to the way it is, the way it was, just who we are, the comfortable known, even if it’s some of the best hours we’ve ever spent. We are called into a beautiful, dynamic adventure. We take shots, risk, leap. This is not, and never was, about keeping this terrific person here in this house in my pocket, it’s about sending him out, just like it is for us. The story of Abraham begins with a word, “Go.” The story of the early Church begins with the same word. Why do we think ours would be any different?

We loved every second of each other, and the time we spent this summer. Not because it would never end, but because we were totally present and engaged. We were really, truly living these blessings. Yes, I was there, it was fantastic, and I am now a different man. And maybe that is as good of a definition of overwhelming gratitude as we’ll ever find.

#1 Priority Tomorrow

September 29, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

What is my #1 priority tomorrow? The hosting site wants to know. I’ll tell you this, tomorrow will not be as great as today. It’ll be awesome, but it won’t be today.

The Angel arranged a sort-of card “shower,” where people sent birthday cards to her to give to me all at once. So, for the last few days, I’ve read a few each day, and today, opened and read the rest. There is a concept called the 5 Love Languages (we give/receive love in different ways, it’s important we communicate our love in ways we understand), my primary is physical touch, but my second is words of affirmation. This kind of thing is misnamed, it’s an overwhelming tidal wave of love, instead of a shower, for a words man.

So, tomorrow, I’ll get back into ordinary time. That’s a liturgical (religious) term that refers to the days & months outside of the big spiritual seasons, like Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, etc. I only use it ironically, and I use it ironically here, too.

There is no such thing as “ordinary time.” Ordinary means common, everyday, and listen to what else I read about being ordinary: “If you describe someone or something as ordinary, you mean they are not interesting in any way and may be rather dull. I’m just a very ordinary, boring normal guy.” What?!!!?? Is anything ordinary? Not interesting in any way? Common?

So, tomorrow, I’m talking to my sister on the phone like I do every Tuesday at 9am. It is our usual time to talk, and it is NOT ordinary. Then, I’m taking a meal to a woman who is recovering from heart surgery, and I’ll probably stay for a little while. What could possibly be considered ordinary about that? Then, in the afternoon… well, a woman reached out to me, in a very vulnerable way, about purpose, direction, restlessness, and a thousand other swirling emotions. First, that kind of reaching out is not, in any way, ordinary, and 2nd, that I get the privilege of sharing that space with her – not ordinary. In the evening, our community has our weekly prayer space. This hour is a lot of things, but ordinary is not one of them.

I guess our lives can be ordinary, but that only happens when we forget how valuable they are, how valuable we are. When we stop living with the immense gratitude all of this beautiful grace requires. When we take the sacred energy all around us, between us, for granted.

You know what else I did today? I kissed the Angel. (That sounds like a metaphor, and maybe it would be a good one, but in this case, it’s just what happened.) We’ve been together for 27 years, and have kissed each other countless times (did I mention I am a physical touch??). I can’t (and don’t want to) imagine a day where those kisses are simply ordinary, “not interesting in any way… and rather dull.” They are remarkable, every single time.

So, now, what is my #1 priority? I’ll tell you. My priority, tomorrow and every day, is to destroy this nonsense that our lives are ordinary, and to join you as we reclaim the divine in every person, every moment. We’ll knock down every wall that has been built with the lies that sold us that anything could ever be just ordinary.

Super, Man

September 22, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Last post, we talked about Sarah, now we’ll talk about Superman. I don’t know what ties them together – maybe there’s some thread (no mater how thin) that could philosophically link the two – but, for today, for the purpose of this post, the only thing they have in common is me.

The newest Superman movie was released this year, the first in the James Gunn DCU reboot. I recognize it’s entirely possible that you have no idea what the words in the 2nd half of that sentence mean, but that’s not too important. It’s superheroes and comic book movies. Sometimes, they’re terrific, using the extraordinary circumstances to discuss very real, very human, situations and relationships. And sometimes, they’re not terrific, just capes and CGI. Superman is mostly terrific.

In 1998, Gus Van Sant directed Psycho, starring Vince Vaughn. It’s probably best to call it a cover version of the original. Of course, cover versions are usually used for music, but this was a shot-for-shot remake, like a new band playing the same chords, singing the same lyrics, ostensibly trying to bring something new to the material. This Psycho didn’t, though. It was dumb and absolutely pointless, and since then, the question, “why?” has been in my head when a new/old character is introduced. In this case, is it really necessary to create another universe with another Superman? And, oh baby, it really is.

There’s a scene where Lois is criticizing Superman, saying, “My point is I question everything and everyone. You trust everyone and think everyone you ever met is, like…beautiful.” That’s why it’s necessary, vital, here & now.

We are a world, generations deep, of Loises. We question, doubt, distrust. We’re cynical and jaded, probably for very good reason. But our new humanity (in-humanity) is not conducive in any way to connection or relationship. So, we’re isolated in our room, on our screens, creating stories in our heads about “them,” stripping them of any similarities to ourselves, making the incivility and violence, not only possible, but inevitable. When schools, or anywhere, are shot up (over 300 mass shootings in the US so far this year), they don’t even make the news and we hardly blink. Charlie Kirk is murdered because of what? A difference in perspective? Maybe you don’t like his point of view, maybe I don’t, maybe you and I do, but to elevate a disagreement into an excuse for a wife to lose her husband and his children to lose their daddy is…very…predictable. We were sad, horrified (no matter your politics, because a human being lost his life), but we were not surprised.

This culture of division and hatred is not one any of us truly want to live in, so we don’t just want Superman. We need Superman.

I don’t know if we find the art or fictional stories because we’re a certain way, or if we’re a certain way because of the art and stories we consume, but when Lois pseudo-insulted Superman in the way she did, she was talking to me, too. (Maybe I seek out the world I want, or the world was shown to me, and I accepted it as my own – at this point, who cares?) I trust everybody, love everybody and think you are beautiful and awesome. It was no insult.

Of course, as you can imagine, this ideal that I hold doesn’t always end happily. Sometimes, it ends in tears and heartbreak. And that is ok with me, it’s the cost of living this way, fully present and all the way in.

What I know is that I’m far more depressed at the way we’ve fallen into disrepair, chosen loneliness, increasingly willing to sacrifice the others to the god of self, the god of meeeee. This hurts me more than a friend’s lies, betrayal, ugliness. It’s much easier to change your mind than transform the groupthink of a mob, especially when we’ve bought the arrogant delusion that this is all the intellectual progress of a people.

Superman is embarrassingly naive and hopeful. Can there be anything more refreshing than that?? Than hope? Than a belief in the good of each other? Than forgiveness? Than respect? Than love?

At the end of the movie, he saves Metropolis and that world. Maybe he can save ours, too.

Home at College

September 1, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not watching much tv, outside of Fisk, repeating the 3 seasons. And when I get through them for the second time, I’ll start on the 3rd. I’m listening to Kitty Flanagan’s book 488 Rules For Life, and probably, when it’s over, I’ll just restart that, too. (Maybe not, there is another book to dig into. But as good as this one about the Rules is, maybe I won’t.)

My youngest son is now entering his 2nd week in college. My college experience was really, really awful. It’s no exaggeration to say I hated almost every day, with 2 big exceptions.

The first is that I played baseball, and I loved playing baseball, at a every level. Incidentally, I had a dream that lasted 22 years to play professionally, and I worked and worked, went to all of the all-star games, attended several open tryouts. But alas, I was not good enough. There is no shame in this, and I feel no shame at all telling you. I gave all I had to my dream (at the time, it was the only thing I could have said that about), and have zero regrets. I heard someone say, no matter what level you stop playing, you only stop playing because you’re not good enough for the next level, and that is almost never not true (no matter what the dads in the stands at high school football games say.) I was a college baseball player, and loved it 3,000.

The other exception was, obviously, the Angel. I met her in my junior year (which was not my 3rd year – I was on the extended plan;), and began dating her in my last semester. (It was a very good thing I was on that extended plan, I would have been long gone by that last semester if I was more focused and motivated.) She’s better than baseball, and I love her way more than 3,000.

Anyway, my boy sent me a video of a classmate playing his guitar and singing along with a girl who may or may not be a romantic interest. The song was “Home,” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – you know it, here’s the first verse and chorus:

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you… Well, holy moly, me oh my, you’re the apple of my eye, Girl, I never loved one like you… Man oh man, you’re my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness, there ain’t nothing that I need… Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, cotton candy, Jesus Christ, there ain’t nothing please me more than you … Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you. Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you.

You know it, right? You love it, too. I know you do, because everybody does. The only people that don’t are those who are trying to have a too cool, imagined elitist, take – those people you don’t want to hang out with anyway. They are not your friends.

This college guitarist was surprisingly good, and the 2 of them sang together, and that was also surprisingly good. I watched the video several times, and since I’m a sucker for this type of beauty, I do hope she’s a romantic interest for my boy. But here’s the thing that’s more important, that I texted him his morning: this is what I want college to be, for him. A space with the free exchange of stories, ideas,

(I’ll continue in a second, but it seems important to tell you that, right now, outside my front door, the Angel has returned from her walk and is singing out loud while she stretches. I have the best life and it is rare that I forget that simple fact. I’m going to kiss her in a second.)

…free exchange of stories, ideas, talents, and hearts. This is also what I think the Church is, lots and lots of people being exactly who they are, and that who they are is accepted, appreciated, embraced, and loved by the others who are also being exactly who they are. These are places where we are invited to share ourselves, with vulnerability and complete authenticity.

He responded, “I really love it here.” Of course, you do, buddy. We all do, it’s home.

Creativity

August 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt, today (or yesterday, since I didn’t finish it last night), was, “What do you enjoy most about writing?” I’ll tell you the truth, reader & AI program that chooses these prompts, I love almost everything about writing.

I embrace the possibility of the blank page/screen – at least, usually I do. Of course, sometimes, it’s terrifying, but I read this book by Stephen King once and he said, just write something, anything. That’s been great advice, because then, after a few words that are banal and meaningless, voilà, the page is no longer blank and far less intimidating.

I value the time. I write by myself, listening to music, in a fluffy recliner. While it’s not silent, it’s quiet, peaceful.

But to answer the prompt, what I enjoy most is the self-discovery. There have been countless times where the words & ideas flow in unexpected ways, opening my eyes to how I really feel and believe. I just start with questions and feel around in the dark for myself. This is what I’ve heard called an “inward journey.” There are no rules or judgment in writing like this, just the free expression of a person in progress. Maybe this writing is why I enjoy the “in progress” part of me so much. (Not the actual stretching, but the growth…maybe just in hindsight.)

Another thing I like most is the creation of a new thing (whether fiction or non, novel, short story, poem, post, or sermon). What did not exist, now does. We breathe life into work that will outlive and outreach us. I can get people I will never meet from all over the world reading the words I type from my fluffy chair. The pages and pages I’ve written, my boys could read long after I’m gone. (Probably they wouldn’t, but they could, right?) I don’t think this is a delusion of a narcissist, it’s much closer to our divine design. We are created in the image of a wildly creative God, with the purpose of spreading His love, His word, His Story, to the ends of the earth. Why wouldn’t that be what we do, however we do it?

So, I see now that the last paragraph could be called connection, and writing, especially in an immediate, interesting format like this, does that in a way few other mediums can. I can do this, open my heart in an authentic, vulnerable way, and we can find the common ground we’re all searching for.

My son goes to college in 2 days. This is the most wonderful pain I have experienced. It’s a new set of emotions. The order of things that I’m used to is: 1. I feel pain and wish I didn’t. 2. Later on, (months/years), I see how valuable that pain was, and become resigned to my own gratitude. This one is different. I am fully, overwhelmingly grateful as it is tearing my heart out and breaking it. I am proud, excited, would not even consider stunting this very natural, beautiful part of his becoming, his own journey. I will just miss him terribly.

At funerals, I have come to find that those who are only broken hearted are the luckiest. Some (most?) of us have some complex mixture or regret, anger, frustration, and on and on. What a gift it is to simply grieve. Those sad tears are a blessing that is pretty rare, honestly.

This is like that. I’m not afraid or hesitant. There isn’t mourning over times I’ve missed. He is all I could have ever hope for, our time has been better than the best, and he is ready to change this whole world by simply being in it. The Angel & I are healthy. We cry and we laugh and we encourage, all in it’s time, whenever it comes. I was mushy in line at Hersheypark yesterday because I felt mushy in line at Hersheypark yesterday. Then, we had an awesome time of joyful presence. We’re just here.

Having said all of that, do you know what I mean? Of course, you do. We’re not the first to do this, won’t be the last. Maybe you know about funerals or fear or regret. Maybe you understand me in ways you didn’t, or maybe you understand your neighbor or co-worker in ways you didn’t. Through these posts, we see that we are all human beings, created by the same loving God, sharing so much more than there could ever be different. And maybe that’s why God made us in His image, with the ability to do our own creating. To grow closer and learn how to love each other. It might not be writing, it might be cooking, organization, interior design, or anything else. But what it is is an offering, to each other and the God that so made all of this beauty.

Wedding Clothes

August 11, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I sometimes get the privilege of officiating weddings, of getting to say “Do you,” and “kiss your Bride,” and filling out legal paperwork that ties people together forever. I fully recognize the statistics that say we have about the same chance of forever as a quarter has of landing on heads, I just don’t care. I don’t have to acknowledge it, I can believe it’s forever.

This couple had been together since the 8th grade, through braces, high school graduations, college in different cities, injuries, long distances, COVID, and Trump, twice! Their book had the sweetest pictures you’ve ever seen of every awkward, beautiful step.

Their guests filed in, early and immaculate.

I mention it, because this is not as usual as you’d like to think. Some are late (some significantly so), some come in jean shorts & cut off t-shirts, and some take the opportunity of someone else’s wedding to make a mess. I had one Bride’s mother show up late for an outdoor wedding in a park, and drive by slowly, uncomfortably close to the people, and through, never bothering to stop and attend. This isn’t only guests. Once, a Groom wore a tank top and gym shorts to his own wedding to a woman in a perfect white dress.

I would tell you I mind, and I probably do. But that tank top wedding was awesome, some underdressed guests were wonderful surprises to the couple, and really, who cares how you are there, as long as you are there, right? I don’t necessarily like our casual culture, where every time & place is the same as any other. We “come as we are” everywhere we are. Of course, I’d like some separation. I’d like to set apart some moments. A wedding simply isn’t a ballgame. I’d like to bring back church clothes. But I’m the pastor and I wear shorts and untucked shirts all summer long, so there’s that.

We can agree that some things are just more important, like heart postures. Clothes aren’t everything, are they? Nope. But they can certainly tell a story, (not the whole story, obviously), and give a window to the posture of the heart. They can speak volumes. The look of the guests at this wedding sure did.

I imagine that the women bought new dresses and shoes (who cares where they bought them or how much they spent???) for this day, they started doing their hair and makeup in the morning. The men bought new ties, shaved, and wore fancy socks and pants that fit. They reflected on this couple, who they desperately love, as they did it all, and respected them, the day, the amount of money and time that was invested in the ceremony, and the grace of the God who made all of this possible. That’s what I imagine, and you can’t convince me otherwise. They came and gave their very best to this moment…because this moment deserved it.

Now. That sort of implies that some moments don’t, and I don’t believe that, either. Maybe that’s the justification behind our super-casual, dressing down. And maybe that’s where I can argue. Maybe instead of bringing everything down to the level of picnics and McDonalds, maybe we can acknowledge the significance of every second, every place, every person. Maybe McDonald’s shouldn’t be eaten in the car and maybe we shouldn’t show up late to anything. Maybe we could eat on the fine china for sandwiches with our spouses? Maybe we should raise the consciousness and treat everything like the blessing it is? Maybe we can just start with this moment and go from there?

Transmogrification

August 6, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not so sure “transmogrification” is a word – I read it in Calvin & Hobbes, that means it is, to me. Of course, it’s a word. The only question is if it’s in the dictionary, but we have mostly decided that the grammar/vocabulary/spelling rules we learned in school don’t matter, as a culture, so I won’t even bother to spend the 3 seconds to look it up. I’ll use it as a perfectly acceptable synonym for transformation.

(Why would I not just use ‘transformation,’ then? That’s a good point. 1. I love Calvin & Hobbes and like remembering the comics. They make me the best kind of nostalgic, and they make me think of my brother in law. 2. Transformation, especially in the context I’ll be using it, can be one of those words derogatorily called Christian-ese – like, for instance, fellowship – and I generally avoid those.)

I am in a process of transmogrification. This summer is a season of intense “stretching,” where I’m climbing in a box, a transmogrifier, and will exit as something quite different. I don’t know what that is, yet. I’m trying to simply change, naturally, acknowledging/embracing a lack of control, as if I’m in the trunk being driven somewhere. This is new. Usually, I overthink and try to steer… or at least give my input on the “best” route. I apply pressure, the unavoidable weight of significance, and sometimes it is gives exactly the right amount of beautiful care, other times this pressure squeezes the air right out of the flight.

I used “acknowledge/embrace” in that last paragraph. Do I truly lack control? Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes animals behave differently when they’re being observed, right? They always behave differently when they’re being manipulated. I call it participation, but it’s easy to cross an already blurry line into hammering square pegs into round holes. I’m trying to avoid that line altogether, let this process be absolutely (I CANNOT think of the word I want to use, here!! It is a word that means unhindered, it will be what it is ‘supposed to be,’ just following the next thing, taking the next step in front of me, without my often-arrogant planning. Anyway.) Patient, but not passive. Not choking the journey or the Guide, allowing the Spirit to work, lead, while I am quietly listening.

Of course, there is a different, unconsidered possibility. What if the transmogrifer is not changing me? What if everything else (the environment, circumstance, atmosphere – the trees, grass, clouds) is spinning, while I stay the same? Not “stay the same” as in lazy stagnation, but standing where I am, in my identity, in Truth, as the pieces of my life are rearranged. Can we remain solidly grounded & consistent in a hurricane of movement? Maybe this is a season for an anchor.

It’s interesting how changing the frame gives the painting a brand new look & feel. You see details previously overlooked, things you thought were integral are ancillary, colors take on new meaning. Maybe that’s really why I chose transmogrify, and maybe it’s not a direct synonym at all. Writing is such a valuable, enlightening practice, because where you begin is so rarely where you end, and you learn so much along the way. Maybe that’s what transmogrification is, a turn (sometimes subtle, practically unnoticeable, or seismic), leaving us in a gorgeous new world.

Many Weddings

July 21, 2025July 21, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I began this post over a year ago, and it sat in my draft folder until today. Here it is:

“Over 2 weeks some months ago, I had the honor and privilege of officiating 2 very different wedding ceremonies. The first one was at a gorgeous venue, was big and fancy, everything and everyone looking like they had fallen straight out of a magazine. Back in my day, there were magazines, sort of like glossy colorful newspapers. Well, I guess a better example, since newspapers don’t exist anymore, is a physical website you can hold in your hands. The second was very small and intimate, only family, held under a tent in a backyard. They were stunning but taken from a different magazine.

I have done big & fancy before, and sometimes it means time, attention, resources, given to one of the most significant events in 2 people’s lives. They commit their lives to each other and to the God who created them and loves them dearly. Other times it means pomp and superficiality, empty cost, an excuse for a giant party in our honor.

And I have done small & intimate, and sometimes it means stripping down any artifice, until it’s only 2 people and the God who created them and loves them dearly, committing their lives to each other. Others, it’s cheap and easy, simply a box checked with as little disruption as possible.”

I’m sharing it with you today because I’m thinking about weddings. Saturday, 2 of our friends married in a small-ish ceremony that was absolutely gorgeous. The way they looked at each other, gave themselves to each other, it was lovely and affirmed all of our hope in an institution that is increasingly disposable. At dinner, my son finished his “champagne” before the toast, and we learned that toasting with anything other than champagne (real or otherwise) is bad luck. I don’t know if the bad luck is for the couple or the one toasting with a substitute (the superstition rings of a marketers invention, though, right?), but I said, “They don’t need our luck. They’ll be fine.”

I suppose everyone says that, but in this case, I feel that it is comfortably true.

Anyway, like I said, I get to officiate lots of weddings. This wasn’t mine to perform, I just sat, empty handed, and soaked in their love & commitment. But I’ve seen so many, with so many people, so many wonderful stories, getting married for very good (and not so very good) reasons. The earlier draft post was, actually, more like 3 or 4 years ago, and I remember the 2 like they happened this morning.

I love people in love, Jesus, and His gift of marriage. Many of us try to find any excuse to miss weddings and funerals, but I find them inspiring, sometimes the only spaces where we can find authenticity in a fake world. But like everything else, other times that authenticity is grossly absent. You can find pretense in gigantic weddings just as well as in living room weddings. And you can also find the searing image-making that makes board rooms so insufferable at the altar.

But I like to think that it’s less likely.

People dress in all sorts of ways, too. I can’t tell if it’s image-making to dress in a sharply tailored suit or in a sleeveless tee & jeans. Probably both. Each stands out in their own way, at times. I am an old-fashioned man, in many ways, so I happen to believe that propriety is dictated by the situation. Using this definition, anything that wrestles attention away from the bride (and, to a lesser extent, the groom) is wildly inappropriate. Officiants are often inappropriate, as are the family members who can’t help but to argue and make a mess all over someone else’s big day.

And now I’m thinking of a wedding I did about 2 years ago for a young couple – one I’d place in my top 5 ever. As the first guests began to arrive, I noticed a bizarre steampunk aesthetic that I initially believed was a ridiculous costume. (Ridiculous not because it was steampunk, which is super-interesting and cool, but because it felt like an obvious attention grab.) But then, more and more steampunks filled the space, and the atmosphere took on a distinct, fascinating, connected vibe that is impossible to manufacture. They were a big, extended family who shared actual, lived-in, lives. It was so intentional, everyone was perfectly dressed, I imagined they had meticulously planned their outfits.

The reason it’s in my top 5 is the reason we love anything: Because the people involved are present and hopeful, they are a community of different people who all love this couple and love & celebrate each other, in their lives. Big, small, well-planned, years in advance, or elopements, all weddings create new worlds, but no matter what they look like, it’s the heart behind them that decide if they’re worlds actually worth creating.

expectations

June 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

We have a summer family vacation every year. I’m always thrilled with it, as it is a time to (mostly) disconnect from devices and the strength taskmaster of the planet Busy, and connect with each other. Last year, it was also a time of pretty significant transformation for me – as I was in the ocean, a big beautiful Truth swam right up to me and punched me in the face. It’s not much of an overreach to say it changed me forever. I expected it again this year.

We usually stay in a hotel, but this year I chose to book with an Airbnb. Instead of 2 beds in 1 room, we would have different rooms, a kitchen and a living room. There would be privacy, time and space. I know there are many kinds of Airbnb’s, from mansions to single rooms in apartments. I am also sure that the one I chose was properly described. I just had a different picture in my head that I was expecting.

The Angel had wrapped up the school year 2 days before we left. Often, we go a few weeks after the end, after she has a solid start on her summer school responsibilities. This year, we left immediately, to allow her to breathe and decompress on the sand, before those responsibilities began. I expected her to easily transition from the extra-stressful end-of-year to the peaceful vacation state of rest.

Our summer vacation was outstanding, but…

Counting Crows released August & Everything After on September 14, 1993, and it remains a perfect album. When their next album, Recovering The Satellites, came out, we all expected another A+ album, and it was fine. But it was not our expectations and paled in comparison to the album in our heads.

The Goo Goo Dolls have never released an A+ album, they’re all pretty much in the B+ to C range. Some songs (like “We Are The Normal”) are really great, and some are absolutely unlistenable. This is what we expect from the Goo Goo Dolls, and they rarely disappoint. We don’t expect anything different, anything more. If Counting Crows would release a Goo Goo Dolls album, with great songs sitting neatly next to trash, it would be widely considered THE WORST ALBUM OF ALL TIME. But in our minds, it’s just a solid Goo Goo Dolls album.

Our opinion has very little to do with the actual album, it’s our interpretation of it, seen through the paradigm of our expectations.

Nothing life changing happened, the Airbnb was a 2 room ‘motel,’ with virtually no privacy or quiet space. The Angel needs the days to decompress to regain some semblance of control before we go. All of my expectations were wrong. I expected myself to be slow, easy, and fully present. I was mistaken about that, too. Expectations make presence nearly impossible, because we’re focused on how it is supposed to be.

In hindsight, our vacation was wonderful. I just wish I had taken some more time to enjoy it, free of the weight of should’s & supposed to’s. As a matter of fact, I want to take that last sentence into my life, to smash all expectations I have for things and people and myself, and just enjoy them as the beautiful gifts they/we are. I’m finding that gratitude and expectation are probably mutually exclusive.

But, now that I think about it, maybe that is the Truth of this trip. Maybe it was more transformative than I guessed. Maybe the laughter of the board games, the softness of the Angel’s tanned skin and lovely smile, and the time just eating, walking, swimming, and putting on suntan lotion, together, was the best gift of all. I wonder if this mindful look back is exactly what I needed to see it for what it was…

Maybe it was actually better than I expected.

Love With A Capital L

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

Tag: beauty