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.

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.

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.

A Political Post — January 26, 2026

A Political Post

This post comes with a warning: I am going to write about politics, as honestly as I can, from my perspective & experience. This will not address issues and/or policy. If this is not what you want to read about, I am not offended, I’ll see you next week.

Last Friday, at 9:15pm, I was in the West Wing of the White House. The events that led to this very strange, unexpected situation will probably be discussed elsewhere – but please know, it was only possible through the overwhelming generosity of people. I have been wildly blessed, so far above what I could ever earn or deserve. This life is the truest, most basic definition, of a gift.

So, I’m in the White House, walking the hallways, soaking in the Oval Office and Roosevelt Room, learning the fascinating stories of the people, paintings, books, chandeliers, and personal offices.

Washington DC is a city that is thick with significance and history. It’s impossible to be there and not feel, to not know, that we are a part of a long, beautiful human story. It’s also impossible to be in Ford’s Theater (where President Lincoln was killed) and not lament the loss of honor and integrity in politics. Lincoln’s life makes the sleaziness of today’s political system seem even sleazier.

As much as I am horrified and repulsed by politics, I quite like politics. I am interested in the idea of how we govern ourselves as a society, how we evolve culturally as human beings, here and now. Of course, I want to throw up at how this often plays out IRL.

There’s a long line of Presidential portraits on the colonnade, with descriptive plaques that have been written by the current President. (Whether they change with each administration and are written by each sitting President, or just this one, I don’t know.) Adorning nearly every wall and doorway are golden designs, bling, or what we’d call bedazzlement. If I had to choose to describe how this looks, it’s like a casino. Or maybe a monument to the one inside.

Rather than go on, in detail, about every room and detail, I’ll give you one more juicy nugget. In the adjacent Eisenhower office building, there is a “fake” Oval Office, that was created for the previous President, whose failing health required certain adjustments. There had to be a giant teleprompter, the floor had to be specially graded, on and on. It was a facade built for TV, a superficial constructed image.

I couldn’t help but notice the contrasts, that defined the men and ideologies, and the thing that makes this whole system so distasteful. One is self-obsessed and arrogant. The other is totally inauthentic, creating a land of make believe. This machine professes to be “by the people, for the people,” and it may have been that, but it is no longer. It is a machine for those on the inside, designed to fool the rest of us, as it grows and grows, dividing us to retain (or regain) power, manipulating us to eat each other. The 2 sides are not very different.

There was a quotation displayed in our hotel, “We used to change our party to meet our principles, now we change our principles to meet our party.”

Here’s the thing, though, that I can’t escape. I think I’ve lost hope, right? I think I’d like to dismantle the whole ugly system. But walking around that city, in those buildings, hearing the stories that defined this country…well, as it turns out, I am hopeful. The White House and DC had an effect different than the one I expected. I do believe in us, I always have. Of course, I think the parties (for some sad reason, they’ve become our only 2 choices) have lost their way, and I think they’ve led us astray, but I absolutely think we’ll find our way back. I know we’re more similar than different, I know love and listening can and will change this world. Maybe not in time to avoid collapse, but in the end, it’ll be you and me building something new together. Like it was then, it’ll be again. It’s never been easy, always messy and often gross, but we grow and develop, we leave behind what is beneath us, we carry and pick up what it valuable, and we find out at least one thing has never changed: human beings are better together. And I promise that we will remember that, and that what we build (or rebuild) will be stunning.

Weirdos Looking For Other Weirdos — January 14, 2026

Weirdos Looking For Other Weirdos

Now, today, the site prompt is “In what ways do you communicate online?” and that fits very nicely with why I opened my computer to write this morning. This is not the silly snacks conversation, this communication topic cuts to the heart of who we are as human beings.

Sometimes, I can’t sleep. After finding a bedtime routine that was working (first, reading a chapter or 3 of a book I like, then laying like spoons with the Angel for a few minutes, and I seem to drift off immediately, mostly sleeping through the night), I apparently decided to change that up, for whatever thoughtless reason. Last night’s great idea was to scroll through Instagram for a half an hour, then turn the light off and…what exactly did I think would happen? Laughing at NFL memes and cat videos isn’t conducive to anyone’s winding down process. Usually I don’t even take my phone into the bedroom, but last night, I did.

So, I was downstairs eating a bowl of cereal, watching People’s Court on YouTube for an hour, then to bed, only to wake up with a splitting headache a couple of hours later. My watch says I slept for 3 hours with no “deep” sleep. Maybe those things aren’t to be trusted, but I feel like I slept 3 hours with no deep sleep, so maybe in this instance it’s accurate.

Anyway, I was up watching a board game documentary on Amazon, called The Hobby: Tales From The Tabletop. (There apparently is another doc called just The Hobby, which concerns the trading card industry. This is a confusing coincidence, if it’s not related, but also interesting.) This doc is about people who love modern board gaming. I say “modern,” because it’s not Monopoly or Life. Instead, these games are complicated stories that have instruction booklets that are pages & pages long. It’s much more D & D than Scrabble, more Call of Duty than Pac-Man. There are tournaments and role-playing. It’s the kind of subculture that I just love; it reminds me of the absolute treasure that was Chicken People.

It like the wide, wild, world of sexual fetishes, without the NSFW element. They exist, hidden in plain sight, and are totally overlooked. And the more I discover, the more I realize remain below the surface. There really is something for everyone.

But when I watch these documentaries, it is further evidence that, as the Bible says, “it is not good for man to be alone.” We are made to be together – whether here, in blogs, online communities, chat rooms and message boards, or in churches, clubs, cults, groups, and arenas. There are countless spaces we’ve created to connect, and it doesn’t matter how or when, or how odd it is to me, I am thrilled when each of us finds our people.

This desire drives almost every action, no matter how small. Who we do “it” with is mostly more important that the “it” we do, but the “it” is the beacon that draws us together. I’m not going to the “Wingspan” world Championships, but I certainly would go to a Morrissey convention or a baseball game or a Sunday morning service. We’re all weirdos looking for other weirdos to move through & make this life more beautiful, and when we find them, we hold on tightly. Or we should hold on tightly.

Life can be long and hard and it can hurt like crazy sometimes, we should all have a hand to hold, a person who gets down in the dirt next to us when we’re mourning – we should all have people to love and be loved by. AND a person to play “Sagrada” or “Blood Rage” with, if that’s your kind of thing.

A New Basketball Season… — January 12, 2026

A New Basketball Season…

The site prompt for today is, “What snack would you eat right now?” I sometimes use these prompts as a springboard, but I’m telling you today’s to illustrate that they’re not all awesome. Some of them are about snacks. Not every shot goes in.

You’re not surprised about that last sentence. I am a man who was raised to love sports (most all sports – I can even find things to like about soccer), so many of my examples and metaphors point in that direction. You know this, and you’ve probably been missing the posts I’ve built around youth sports.

So, I’ll fill you in.

My youngest son is playing on his college basketball team. He’s playing very well, and so is the team. It isn’t translating into wins yet, they’re in the process of a complete culture transformation. They’ve had several down years, so they’re re-learning what is possible for them. It’s easy to draw parallels to “real” life, away from the court. We examined & evaluated our lives, probably set some new year’s resolutions, we’re in the process of complete cultural transformations in ourselves. Now what? What happens when we lose (fail, backslide, regress) or fall? Do we listen to the voices in our heads that tell us that’s just who we are? Most new year’s resolutions are thrown away and forgotten by February. Transformation takes time and patience, and a refusal to entertain the same old story that keeps us sick.

So many of the words I’ve written here discussed the abysmal officiating (in all sports) at the high school level (and below.) This has not been the case for most of the games here. As the players improve, so do the referees. Mostly. There have been games that have been so poorly officiated, it could break your heart. The depressing thing is that the young men give so much time and energy, so much of themselves, to their craft, it feels like a huge disservice that the officials can’t do the same. (I do recognize that maybe they do, and these nights are simply aberrations, just isolated bad games in a career of competence. Maybe.) I sometimes have an urge to apologize to both teams for what we’ve collectively provided to support them. We show up to our jobs and spouses and children and communities, and we give the best we have to give, learn and grow, because it’s the way we honor Our God, and each other.

Speaking of growth, practicing grace in this space is an area in which I’m mindful. So far, it’s pretty easy, I’m constantly overwhelmed with gratitude. These days are beautiful, the environments are alive & electric, and the sport is fantastic.

And that’s the biggest connection, isn’t it? Do I “have to” go to these games, or do I “get to” go to these games? Am I missing the joy of watching these young men (including my son) explore their gifts (athletic and otherwise), choosing instead to stay angry at anything/everything else? Are these games becoming a stressor instead of a release? Do wins and losses matter more than all of the million other positive aspects of sport? Have I lost the point while living vicariously through these college students? Have I forgotten to love?

Am I remembering to love the players, the other parents, fans, staff, the depth, complexity, and beauty of the game, remembering to love it all? Am I remembering to love the time? It won’t always be here, we won’t always have this opportunity – I wonder if we’ll think about the results of the games ever again. We get to drive the hours together to sit in a gym and watch our boy become a man, watch all of these boys become men.

Last night, a parent was inconsolable, screaming in the stands about coaching decisions. It reminds me of Jacob, in the Bible, who wakes up and says, “Surely God was in this place and I was unaware.” I think this dad is going to say the same thing.

I have before, and I don’t want to say it ever again. It’s a new season, but I have the same focus: to be fully awake & present to this wonderful life.

At The Hollywood Bowl — January 6, 2026

At The Hollywood Bowl

It is my practice to listen to music while I write. This morning, the music is an entire Morrissey concert from the Hollywood Bowl on YouTube. [The opener was “The Queen Is Dead,” and now, it’s “The Last of The Famous International Playboys.”] This was a very good decision.

You see, I woke up on the metaphorical wrong side of the bed. I just wrote an apology email to the Angel, for my attitude. Nothing happened, specifically, just an overall tone that didn’t feel…

[A quick note: he’s playing “Ganglord” now, which is a b-side and a very pleasantly surprising inclusion in a live show.]

…didn’t feel great. Do you know when you have a t-shirt on and throw a sweater over it, and the sleeves of the t-shirt get twisted and bunched? Like you still have a t-shirt and sweater, maybe nobody else knows what’s gong on underneath, but you’re constantly fidgeting because it’s just not quite right, a little off? That’s what it felt like, and I assume my unease was communicated to her. I am mostly incapable of hiding anything, every thought and emotion is worn on the outside, so that seems a fair assumption.

[“The National Front Disco.” I recognize that Morrissey can be somewhat problematic, but so is everybody, if you read certain perspectives. Admittedly based upon nothing but his lyrics and older interviews, I happen to not believe any of the racism allegations against him. He’s not problematic in the least to me.]

Last night, I told her that I am the most authentic person she knows (this was half-joking and with context, not just an odd random statement). This is probably true, and not always anyone’s favorite characteristic. I used to be sort of a human chameleon, trying to fit into whatever you wanted me to be/say/do/think.

[His shirt is off and an audience member has a souvenir.]

But the more time I spent in the Bible, the more I learned to value honesty. If God doesn’t want my pretending, faking the “right” answers, and if I was willing to expose my true heart to Him, then I could to everyone else, too. And so many relationships stall because of an unwillingness to relate in any real, transparent way, I decided not to be the unwilling obstacle anymore.

[He’s just given the microphone to a woman in the 1st row, who is thanking him. That’s interesting. Now, “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side.”]

Of course, it’s not always been easy or simple, and has caused it’s own fair share of relational strife. This kind feels much better, though. The way I figure it, if you’ll have a problem with me, it’ll be with me, not some silly construct or mask I’ve chosen to wear. It has led to many emails like the one I just wrote. She’s a very good woman, and forgives easily. Maybe that’s what marriage is all about, choosing to love each other enough to truly forgive, almost on a continual basis, to where it’s natural and instinctual. You are you and I am me, and we are here, together. Maybe forgiveness like this is the most obvious indicator of a healthy selflessness.

This has been a strange post, I don’t know what I’m trying to say, if I’m trying to say anything. This concert is so good, I’m still awfully tired, but my spirit is noticeably lifted. Beauty has a tendency to do that. Maybe if we all had more beauty in our lives, things would look much different than they do now. If world leaders would spend a moment reading books and listening to great albums, maybe we’d not be in such a constant, overwhelming mess. If we all listened to The World Won’t Listen before we left the house, I bet we’d start to find ourselves predisposed to kindness, that love would be our default setting.

[“Disappointed.” Nice. And “I’ve Changed My Plea To Guilty.” He sounds as good as I have ever heard him. The Smoking Popes have a song lyric, “I don’t know if you saved my life, but you changed it, that’s for sure.” That’s exactly how I feel about this person on my tv. I don’t know who I’d be today, if I’d be today, but I sure wouldn’t be who I am. I am grateful to be here. “Everyday Is Like Sunday.”]

I guess what I really think, in the deepest parts of me, is that this life doesn’t have to just be anything, that it can be what we make it. We get to choose what we see & hear (what we search and select on YouTube), and we get to choose our output just as easily as our input. And maybe we could be the ones creating the beauty that begins to unwind the chaos that currently defines, replacing the noise with the truly inspired chords and melody that we’d all love to hear.