This week, I want to dive into a memory lane moment that’s been tugging at my heartstrings, all centered around a term we’re all too familiar with — bullying. But, I’m not just talking about the kind we remember from the playground; I’m eyeing its more grown-up, yet equally damaging counterpart in our adult lives.

This grows from an incident I saw in the news that can only be classified as bullying, and it involves public figures, grown men. Frankly, it’s troubled me perhaps more than it should have. Let me tell you a story. There are some real parallels here.

My thoughts drift back to a childhood memory from Camp Ridgecrest for Boys — a memory that, oddly enough, has rippled through the years, influencing my understanding of kindness, courage, and the subtle forms of bullying that don’t always leave visible scars.

I was in the 6th grade, sharing a cabin with five other boys, one of whom, Ernie, had a stutter. His vulnerability became the target of another cabin mate, Herbie, who found a perverse delight in mocking him. Despite Ernie’s attempts to laugh it off, the bullying escalated until it reduced him to tears. Herbie accomplished what he set out to do. As a witness, my silence has since felt like complicity, a haunting reminder of the power of our actions — and inactions. I should have said or done something. As a 6^th grader, though, I guess I didn’t want to run the risk of being treated like Ernie had been.

The memory serves as a stark reflection on bullying, not just as a relic of our school days but as a shadow that can follow us into adulthood, morphing into forms that are harder to recognize but equally harmful. Adult bullying may not involve stolen lunch money or physical altercations, but it can manifest in workplace politics, social exclusion, or cutting remarks dressed as jokes, even to the extent of making fun of someone’s physical appearance or handicaps. These actions, though less overt, stem from the same desire to exert power over another.

As Christians, or simply as humans striving to be better, we’re compelled to ask ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” This question isn’t meant to invoke guilt but to encourage a profound introspection about our conduct and its impact on those around us. Jesus’ life was a testament to love, inclusivity, and standing up for the marginalized — a guidepost for our interactions.

Acknowledging feelings of complicity in the face of bullying is not an admission of defeat but a step toward growth. It’s a call to action, urging us to be vigilant and brave, to stand up against injustices, and to support those who are being diminished. Our silence can be as impactful as our words, and choosing to speak out can be a beacon of hope for someone in the throes of bullying.

As adults, we wield considerable influence — through our actions, our words, and our decisions about when to speak and when to listen. This influence gives us a unique responsibility to create environments (churches?) where respect and kindness overshadow the impulse to belittle or dominate. It’s about building communities where the Ernies of the world feel supported and valued, not for their ability to endure mockery but for their inherent worth as individuals.

This is an invitation — a call to reflect on our behaviors and the subtle ways we might contribute to or combat bullying in our everyday lives. It’s an encouragement to foster empathy, to be the ally that our younger selves needed, and to cultivate spaces where compassion drowns out cruelty.

In closing, let’s remember that the lessons learned on the playground have far-reaching implications. The way we navigate adult bullying, standing up for fairness and kindness, can transform our workplaces, homes, and social circles into havens of respect and understanding. By doing so, we honor the spirit of what Jesus taught, living out our faith through actions that speak louder than words.

Together, let’s pledge to be the change, to be adults who embody the virtues we wish to see in the world. Because in the end, it’s not just about preventing bullying; it’s about nurturing a society where every person is seen, heard, and valued — where the playground, the workplace, and the church are places of growth, not battlegrounds for dominance.

We can fight for our beliefs without demonizing each other.

Not everyone knows this, apparently.

I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love being able to reconnect with friends that I haven’t heard from in years. It’s pretty wonderful to find a former student from one of the youth groups I led 30 years ago and hear how they’re doing Kingdom work and loving Jesus.

That’s the love side of things. What I hate, though, is when I run across some political or social screed and just shake my head. Or, worse, when I let myself get suckered and drawn into a no-win discussion, i.e., argument. It devalues my soul.

In a world bursting with diverse opinions and beliefs, it’s easy to find ourselves at odds with others. Do we live in a divided country or what? But as Christians, we’re called to a different standard — one of love, understanding, and peace.

The Apostle Paul reminds us inRomans 12:18, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” This isn’t just a lofty ideal; it’s a practical guide for navigating our interactions, even when we disagree.

Understanding Over Judgment

One of the first steps in bridging differences is striving to understand rather than rush to judgment. Remember James 1:19, which encourages us to be “quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” Understanding doesn’t mean we have to agree with every point of view, but it does mean acknowledging the sincerity and humanity in others’ perspectives.

That’s hard. I’ll read something from a friend or acquaintance and think, “Dude, you must be possessed. How can you believe such nonsense? Who are you listening to? What are you reading? What are your sources?”

Then I remember: Everyone has a story. Their story isn’t my story. They came to their beliefs based on their worldview, their upbringing, their environment, and a whole host of other factors. Just like you and I did.

I’d like to think I work hard at this. I once found myself in a heated debate with a friend over a social issue. As we talked, I made a conscious effort to listen, not just to respond but to understand. It didn’t change my viewpoint, but it certainly softened my heart towards my friend’s experience and reasoning.

Love as Our Guiding Principle

In every interaction, love should be our guiding principle. Jesus couldn’t have been clearer when he said, “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34). This love isn’t just a warm feeling; it’s patient, kind, and self-controlled, as detailed in1 Corinthians 13:4-7. It’s choosing to respond with gentleness even when we’re tempted to be harsh, showing kindness when it’s easier to be indifferent.

Just be kind.

The Strength in Diversity

Our differences can be a source of strength, not division. Proverbs 27:17 tells us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Engaging with diverse viewpoints can challenge us to think deeper, understand more broadly, and grow stronger in our own beliefs. It’s like a community garden with a variety of plants; each contributes something unique to the overall beauty and health of the garden.

When I talk about diversity, I’m simply saying that we aren’t all alike. I’m not talking about a union of light and darkness, of sin and holiness. What I am saying is that just listening to others, even if you find their stances repellant and even wicked, can’t hurt. Just make sure you are secure in you own beliefs, and stand firm on biblical truths.

Bridging the Gap with Grace

Finally, grace is the bridge that spans the gap between differing viewpoints. Ephesians 4:2-3 encourages us to “be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” Grace involves listening, forgiving, and sometimes agreeing to disagree, all while maintaining respect and dignity. It’s recognizing that we’re all works in progress, journeying together towards understanding and truth.

As followers of Christ, we’re called to stand firm in our beliefs while also extending love and respect to those who differ from us. This balance isn’t just a nice idea; it’s a scriptural mandate and a practical pathway to peace and unity in a diverse world.

Let’s embrace our differences, not as barriers, but as opportunities to demonstrate the love, understanding, and grace that are at the heart of our faith.

When I was a little guy, Sundays were as much about wardrobe as they were about God. My mama, bless her heart, would dress me up like a miniature Southern gentleman. I’m talking about shiny shoes so bright they’d make the sun jealous, a starched shirt, and a bow tie so snappy it could’ve done a tap dance all on its own. If she’d been given free reign, she would’ve dressed me like Little Lord Fauntleroy in the pursuit of me looking “adorable.” Thank goodness Daddy put some restraints on her.

Those shoes weren’t just shiny; they were a hazard. Slipping and sliding across the church floor, I was a polished disaster waiting to happen. Mama put masking tape on the soles to give some friction. And that bow tie? It was a clip-on, invariably red plaid. It used the same kind of clips women used to hold their permanent waves in place.

Back in those days, everyone dressed to the nines for church. It was like a fashion show where the runway was the church aisle, and the prize was the approving nods from the elders. Men in suits sharp enough to cut through Sunday morning fog, women in hats grand enough to host their own ecosystem – it was a sight to behold.

As the song says, the times, they are a-changing. These days, you’re as likely to see jeans and a t-shirt in the pews as you are a Sunday dress. Some folks say it’s the decline of respect, but I suppose it’s something else.

You see, over the years, I’ve learned something crucial: God’s not up there with a scorecard tallying up our fashion choices. He’s not looking for the brightest shoes or the snappiest ties. No, sir. He’s looking straight past the cotton and polyester, peering into our hearts.

It dawned on me, somewhere between those Sunday mornings of my shiny-shoed youth and the more casual Sundays of today, that what we wear to church matters far less than what we carry in our hearts. The Bible tells us the Lord looks at the heart – and last time I checked, it doesn’t say anything about requiring a bow tie for entry into the kingdom of Heaven.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think there’s something special about putting on your Sunday best, showing respect and honor in your own way. But I believe the Lord’s more concerned with what we’re best at: loving our neighbors, offering a helping hand, and carrying kindness in our hearts.

So, whether you’re in wingtips or flip-flops, a hat grand enough to need its own zip code, or just your trusty old baseball cap, remember this: It’s not the outfit that counts in the grand scheme of things. It’s the love, the compassion, and the kindness we wear on the inside that truly matters.

And who knows? Maybe up in Heaven, there’s a place where all those shiny shoes and snappy bow ties get to hang out, free of judgment, just basking in the glow of the good we’ve done down here, dressed in our Sunday best or our Tuesday regular.

Talk soon!

The Silent Strength of Friendship

Friendship is an enigma. It’s this beautiful blend of joy and pain, of laughter and tears. In the journey of life, friends become our chosen family, our anchors in the storm, and our cheerleaders in the game of life. But what does it truly mean to be a friend?

The Beauty of Silence

Have you ever sat with a friend in complete silence, where words were unnecessary, and the mere presence of each other was enough? There’s a beauty in that silence. It’s the kind of silence that speaks louder than any words ever could. It says, “I’m here for you, no matter what.” It’s the silence that acknowledges pain, understands grief, and respects the need for solitude.

Being a friend doesn’t always mean filling the void with words. Sometimes, it means understanding the importance of silence, recognizing when it’s time to speak, and when it’s time to simply listen.

Letting Go with Love

It’s a tough pill to swallow, but true friendship sometimes means letting go. It means watching from the sidelines as your friend takes a leap of faith, even if you fear they might fall. It’s about trusting their journey, believing in their strength, and understanding that everyone has their own path to tread.

Letting go doesn’t mean abandonment. It means giving them the space to grow, to learn, and to find themselves. And sometimes, it’s the greatest gift you can give.

Picking Up the Pieces

Life is unpredictable. It throws curveballs when we least expect them. And while we might stand back as our friends take their leaps, we’re always there, ready to pick up the pieces when things don’t go as planned.

Being there during the tough times, offering a shoulder to cry on, or simply being a listening ear, is the hallmark of a true friend. It’s the promise that says, “No matter how broken things may seem, I’ve got your back.”

A Love Beyond Rescue

The instinct to protect and rescue our loved ones from harm is natural. But true love, especially in friendship, goes beyond the urge to save. It’s about acceptance. Accepting that we don’t always have the answers, that we can’t always be the hero, and that sometimes, the best way to love someone is to let them find their own way.

It’s a selfless kind of love, one that puts the needs and growth of the other person before our own desires to “fix” things. It’s the realization that every individual has their own journey, their own battles, and their own lessons to learn. And as friends, our role is not to walk that path for them but to walk alongside them, supporting, loving, and accepting them every step of the way.

In conclusion, friendship is a dance of love and understanding. It’s about knowing when to step in and when to step back. It’s about the silent moments, the leaps of faith, and the times we pick up the pieces. But most importantly, it’s about loving without conditions, without expectations, and without the need for rescue. Because that’s the kind of love that stands the test of time.

Hello, my esteemed readers! It’s that time of the year again. Time to dust off the marital playbook and reflect on the 43-year long journey I’ve spent tripping, stumbling, and occasionally sprinting towards marital bliss. I hope my wisdom proves useful, and if not, may it at least provide you with a few chuckles. Here are my 43 lessons learned, one for each year of wedded… adventure.

1. Marry someone with a different favorite cereal. This way, you’ll never have to argue over the last bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at 3 am.
2. Always keep your spouse’s favorite snack in the pantry. That way, you have a foolproof way to end arguments. “Honey, I…wait, is that a Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pie?”
3. The secret to a happy marriage? Two words: separate blankets.
4. Understanding is crucial. After 43 years, I now understand she is always right, and I usually don’t have any idea what’s going on.
5. Remember, your spouse is not a mind reader. If they were, they’d probably be on tour with Cirque Du Soleil, not arguing over the thermostat with you.
6. Always have an emergency jar of strawberry preserves on hand. Trust me on this.
7. Marry someone who laughs at your jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially those ones.
8. Always carry a photo of your spouse in your wallet. When your credit card bill comes in, it’ll remind you why you’re broke.
9. If you must argue, make it about something significant. Like whether it’s pronounced “gif” or “jif”.
10. Learn the art of compromise. For example, she hates spiders, and they don’t bother me and I’m willing to let them hang out and eat bugs. So, we compromised, and now we live with a spider named Phil.
11. You’re not just marrying your spouse, you’re marrying their choice of TV shows too. Brace yourself.
12. Perfect the ‘nod and smile’ early on. It comes in handy when you have no idea what she’s talking about but want to appear interested.
13. Once you realize that the dishwasher is a mysterious creature which no human can ever load correctly, you’re halfway to a happy marriage.
14. If you’re wrong, admit it. If you’re right, tread lightly. Really, really lightly.
15. The couple who DIYs together, stays together. Even if it does take three weeks, four trips to the hardware store, and an emotional breakdown to build a birdhouse.
16. In a happy marriage, communication is key. In an ecstatic one, selective hearing reigns supreme.
17. Marry someone who can cook. Love might be the secret ingredient, but knowing how to make real biscuits helps.
18. Remember to celebrate the small victories. Like that time when she finally agreed your favorite armchair didn’t belong on the porch.
19. If you can survive painting a room together, you can survive anything.
20. Accept that the toilet paper will never be on the holder the ‘right’ way. The sooner you come to terms with this, the happier you’ll be.
21. In marriage, you must be patient. Patience is what you have when you have too many witnesses to act otherwise.
22. A happy marriage is finding that one person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.
23. Remember, it’s not about who wears the pants. It’s about who controls the TV remote.
24. Honesty is vital in a marriage. Just not when she asks if her favorite shirt makes her look fat.
25. If you’re lucky enough to find someone as weird as you, never let them go. Unless they put milk in before the cereal. Then you should reconsider.
26. Remember, marriage is about seeing each other at your worst and sticking around anyway. Even if ‘worst’ means singing show tunes in dinosaur pajamas.
27. Regular date nights are key. They remind you why you fell in love, and who’s turn it is to pay the bill.
28. When in doubt, remember the three magical words: “You’re right, dear.”
29. The secret to a lasting marriage? Treat it like a seance. Sit in a dark room, speak to people who aren’t there, and quietly hope that the spirits move the coffee table.
30. Marry someone who can laugh when you trip and fall… but who will also help you up and ask if you’re okay.
31. Always hold hands. If you let go, she shops.
32. Let her have the last piece of cake. If it’s red velvet, this can add years to your marriage.
33. If you find socks all over the house, you’re not alone. You’re married.
34. Love is grand. But having the whole bed to yourself every now and then is too.
35. Remember, a perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other. Or give up on being able to meet for lunch at the same time.
36. Marriage is a workshop… where the husband works and the wife shops.
37. Learn to apologize. Repeat. And again.
38. Keep her favorite flowers in mind. And if all else fails, remember that ‘flour’ for baking has often a similar pronunciation.
39. Just remember, love is all you need. And a reliable Wi-Fi connection.
40. Learn to forgive. Because she will remember, and she will bring it up at the most inopportune times.
41. Hug daily. But check your spouse’s hands for permanent markers first.
42. A marriage is based on trust. Especially trusting that she won’t share that embarrassing story from a classic vacation with your friends.
43. Lastly, never stop saying “I love you”. Even if it’s just because you forgot to take out the trash. Again.
44. BONUS: Say “I love you,” and mean it. 

There you have it. 43 years of wedded bliss wrapped up into 43 little nuggets of wisdom. Remember, a sense of humor is vital in marriage. After all, if you can’t laugh at yourselves, who will? Be blessed, and here’s to another 43 years!

Today, you are about to embark on a deep and profound journey. It’s about a place most of us have been to – some of us more than once. It’s a messy place, filled with confusion, hurt, anger, regret, but also hope and growth. It’s the rocky terrain of broken relationships. This journey is not just about the heartache, but also about the redemption that comes after – forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing. And from our Christian faith, we know that with God, all things are possible.

Broken relationships are an unfortunate but real part of life. They can leave you feeling lost, shattered, and questioning your own self-worth. As we navigate through these feelings, it’s essential to remember that hope is never entirely lost, even in the darkest times. It’s never too late to start the process of healing and restoration. That’s where your journey begins.

And … we’re off. This is good stuff. It will help you. 

The Reality of Brokenness and The Hope in Christ

Relationships, like anything in this world, can fracture due to a variety of reasons – misunderstandings, betrayals, unmet expectations, or simply drifting apart. In these moments of heartache, it’s crucial to remember the message of Romans 8:28: 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

No matter how grim or hopeless a situation may seem, God’s love and grace are always at work. Even in the valleys of despair, He is molding you, teaching you, and preparing you for better days.

Each situation is unique, but a common theme is the lack of communication and understanding. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? The conversations that never happened, the words left unsaid, the feelings left unexpressed – they all contribute to the breaking point.

Bummer.

The Path to Forgiveness

It’s time to pick up that first piece – Forgiveness. Now, this is a big one. I can almost hear you saying “Easier said than done!” And you’re right. Forgiveness isn’t about forgetting or condoning the hurt caused. It’s about freeing yourself from the hold that the past has on you. It’s about choosing to not let past hurts dictate your present or future. It’s not an event, it’s a process. But let’s remember, as followers of Christ, forgiveness is not optional; it’s a calling. Matthew 18:21-22 says, 

“Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.'”

Forgiveness does not erase the pain or condone the wrong, but it does break the chains of bitterness and resentment. It frees us from the prison of past hurts and allows you to move forward.

Read that last paragraph again. 

Reconciliation: The Bridge to Restored Relationships

Reconciliation is not always possible or even the best route in every situation. I’m mindful of what was once a great relationship I had with someone which just doesn’t seem to be salvageable. Man, that hurts.  But when it is possible, it’s like the bridge connecting two lands that were torn apart.

Remember, reconciliation isn’t about sweeping things under the rug. It’s about bringing issues to the surface, addressing them, and resolving them together. It’s about rebuilding trust, mending communication, and renewing the connection. It’s about acknowledging the past without being anchored to it. It’s a brave choice that requires a lot of courage, understanding, and patience.

Reconciliation, when possible and appropriate, is a beautiful testament to God’s transformative power in our relationships. 2 Corinthians 5:18-19 teaches us, 

“All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.”

Reconciliation isn’t about ignoring past hurts, but rather, it’s about confronting them with grace, love, and humility. It requires honest communication, genuine repentance, and the rebuilding of trust.

Healing: Growth from the Ashes

Finally, we come to healing – the green shoots of hope sprouting from the ashes of a broken relationship. Healing, like forgiveness, is a process, not a destination. It’s the new dawn following the darkest of nights

Psalms 147:3 tells us, 

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” 

Healing may mean moving forward from a relationship that was beyond repair, or it may mean building a stronger, more understanding bond out of the fragments of a broken relationship. Either way, healing involves self-love, acceptance, and growth.

A key part of healing is recognizing the growth that comes from pain. Remember, you’re not the same person who started this journey. You’ve grown, you’ve learned, and you’ve become stronger.

James 1:2-4 encourages us,

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

The Promise of Hope

Relationships can break, and it can be devastating. But within that devastation lies the seed of hope. Hope for forgiveness, for reconciliation, and for healing. It’s not an easy journey, but it is one worth taking. It’s a journey of self-discovery, growth, and ultimately, of love.

In your journey, remember, you are not alone. You are surrounded by a community that supports you and walks with you, and above all, you are cherished by a God who turns your trials into triumphs.

So, pilgrim, even in the midst of the storm of a broken relationship, remember, there is always hope. You can find the strength to move forward. This process, albeit challenging, brings you closer to God, allows you to grow in His grace, and reminds you of the unfailing love and mercy of our Creator.

Stay blessed, and keep hope alive!

 Disappointment. Show of hands – who enjoys being disappointed?

I don’t see any. I’m appalled. I thought everyone likes being disappointed and let down.

This, of course, is a poking the bear kind of question, and if you’ve read my stuff for any length of time, you know I have an agenda.

Disappointment is absolutely part of the whole package of life we have. Things are not going to go your way all the time, or even most of the time.

You’ve been let down by someone. Circumstances have smothered you. And, most assuredly, you’ve been disappointed in yourself because you were an idiot.

Fret not, reader. Let’s talk about recovering from disappointment. Disappointment doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

Here are six thoughts about recovering from disappointment, in no particular order. I rather like these:

1 – Acknowledge your feelings.

Don’t pretend like everything is okay. It isn’t. You are disappointed. I’ll let you curate your own list of things that disappoint you; this thought applies to all of them.

You’re hurt, mad, confused, and bummed-out. I don’t intend to give you license to drag others into your little cesspool. Spare them. Talk about how you’re feeling with someone you trust and can show some empathy (as opposed to showing pity.) More on that later. 

The point: you are a hurtin’ puppy. Admit that to yourself. You are not some sort of wimp because you are feeling bad. 

You have to – appropriately! – allow yourself to feel and express the emotions that come with disappointment. That might include sadness, frustration, and flat-out anger. Be good with that.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  – Isaiah 41:10

2 – Practice self-care.

Our culture talks a lot about mindfulness. That’s good; it is entirely appropriate to stay in touch with yourself, and take steps to fix things when you’re all out of whack. Chances are you know what to do to take care of yourself. The sticking point is actually taking the steps to do that, even if it’s not a pleasant task.

Dealing with disappointment means taking care of your emotional and physical well-being. Get enough sleep. Eat right, whatever that looks like to you. Do something mindless and fun, as long as you don’t get hurt or hurt someone else. 

If you’re a believer, then self-care means letting God have His healing way with you.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18

3 – Reframe the situation.

This is so basic it’s profound. Rather than focusing on what’s wrong, consider what you can learn from the experience and what positive aspects you can take from it. 

If you’re disappointed, there has to be a reason for it. So – isolate the event, mindset, or situation, glean what you can from it, and move on. 

It comes down to looking at the situation from a different perspective. I promise there is something good to come from it, even if it’s “I’ll never do that again!”

Of course, if you go back and do “that” again, then you’re missing a big point. Plus, you’ve learned you aren’t very bright and need to make some changes. You can change, y’know. God is in the business of changing hearts, lives, and even minds. If you feel trapped and are beating yourself up, God wants to intervene. He understands that, in the flesh, you are floundering. 

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. – Romans 5:3-5

4 – Set realistic expectations.

It’s important to have realistic expectations for the future to avoid disappointment.

Life is a one-day-at-a-time proposition. This is not a license to avoid planning and setting goals. I am one of the most obsessive goal setters you’ll ever meet. I’ll plan my day in advance, typically the night before. I block out time for specific tasks.  My paper planner is my external brain; the internal one is subject to fog and forgetfulness. Maybe I’m a little OC. Or a lot.

Anyway, the point is to set achievable goals and understand that setbacks are a normal part of life.

You are going to blow it occasionally, often in spectacular fashion. That’s okay. Keep your expectations for the future where they need to be. You won’t lose 20 pounds in a week no matter how disciplined your diet is. 

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. – Philippians 4:13

5 – Seek support.

You don’t have to face disappointment alone. Unless you’re a  total hermit who’s withdrawn from society, there is someone – perhaps multiple someones – that can help you process what you’re feeling. Talking to an empathetic friend or family member can be transformative. And don’t forget about a pastor or other trusted Christian.

Or, if you don’t have any friends or family, how about a mental health professional? Actually, that might be a better choice than a family member or friend, because a professional won’t pity you. Being pitied is not what you want if you’re dealing with disappointment.

You’re looking for a fresh perspective. Help is available. Repeat after me: “There is no shame in asking for help.” This isn’t the 80’s. It is totally acceptable to recognize you’re a hot mess and need a little propping up.

It’s hard for some people to admit they need help. If that’s you, in love … don’t be that person.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of  many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. – James 1:2-4

6 – Focus on what you can control.

Think (but don’t overthink) this: There is precious little in this world you can control. There is so much you can’t change. There’s nothing you can do, for example, about Chinese spy balloons. Don’t dwell on things like that. It’ll make you crazy. I’d wager there isn’t much you can do about the stock market. I’d even go as far as to say that if you have a critically ill loved one, that’s out of your hands, too. 

Of course you pray, and pray earnestly. That’s not what I’m talking about.

Rather, I’m advocating focusing your energy on what you can control. The primary focus of what you can control is you. You control you. You are in charge of your actions, attitudes, and words. 

I can’t overemphasize this, and it was late in life before I internalized it: You have the power to choose, which means that you have the power to change. 

Be patient and kind to yourself. Focus on the steps you can take to move forward. Do not get yourself in a place that convinces you that you’re stuck the way you are. You are not. 

I’m not a motivational speaker. But I am telling you – you are going to be disappointed in yourself more than you are with other people. Recovering from disappointment? Start with you. You have extraordinary God-given power to move on. Lean on Him.  

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

“Friends are friends forever.” Did you just sing that?

Back in my earliest days of youth ministry, which would’ve been the early 80’s, Michael W. Smith’s song was almost like an anthem. You couldn’t avoid it. If there was ever a better song for the last day of camp, I don’t know what it is.

At any rate, I’ve been thinking about this for a week or so. Are friends friends forever? Do they even need to be? I mean, Facebook has had an “unfriend” feature for some time. I’ve used it a couple of times, and I have reason to believe it’s been used on me some lately, too, which I’m fine with. Lord. I hope I never get my sense of worth from social media.

Here’s the thing. The pandemic has thrown our relationships all out of whack. I’m over it; I’m not afraid to go anywhere maskless, but that’s just me. You do what your doctor says, and in the meantime – exercise some critical thinking skills.

Recently I got to spend some time with a friend I hadn’t seen in person for a long time. Since I can be horrifically socially inept, I was a wee bit apprehensive. I didn’t want it to be awkward or weird. We’d been keeping up with each other on social media, so it wasn’t as if we’d been totally disconnected. Still, when you’re online and typing, you do have some control (for better or worse) over how the exchange goes.

Fortunately, everything went fine. We’re still friends forever. I don’t see any reason for that to change.

Here’s my “but” statement. When it comes to friends, even forever friends, my stomach for uncomfortable social situations is a lot worse than it used to be.

Yeah, I’m an introvert. And I’m getting older and much more crotechty. As a Christian, I know I’m supposed to engage the world. (Funny how, under certain circumstances, that can be easier for me with people I don’t know.)

With the aforementioned friend, after we’d visited, I felt a gazillion times better than I did going into the conversation. Said friend made my day.

I’ve had the opposite happen, though. I’ve visited with a friend or acquaintance before and left our time together just exhausted. Spent. As in “show me the door.”

I’m a little vague as to how that works. I know some clinical explanations, but when it comes to friends, sometimes being clinical doesn’t help much.

Then there is loneliness.

Gonna tell ya – I seldom ever, ever feel lonely. There is a stark difference in being lonely and being alone. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to engage with others in a way that satisfies me.

I’d add that, while not the same thing as being lonely, I will cop to being frustrated when people don’t understand me. I don’t like to think I’m all that complex. Whatever. Generally, I can handle that.

So how many friends does someone need to not be lonely? That is unsettled science. The general consensus, though, is that there is no “one size fits all” number.

This: a 2010 Meta-Analysis found that loneliness is “as harmful to physical health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.” That’s not great news.

It seems that when it comes to friends more isn’t necessarily better.

My personal sense informs me that spending time with people – even friends – that are critical, negative, unfaithful, and unreliable isn’t a healthy thing.

We all have a finite amount of time. Because of that, how we use it to invest in others is really important. Remember, though, you are responsible for the quality of your relationships.

Am I advocating just ditching those people who sap your energy, and their very presence devalues your soul?

Not really, simply because it isn’t always practical. There are some people that, because of work, family ties, or just proximity you can’t escape. Some of them might be friends.

I wanted to come up with a nice bulleted list of how-to’s. When it came to friends, everything I tried sounded pat and contrived.

I’ll just go with this:

Guard your heart.

I don’t know what that looks like in your life, but I’ll bet you can apply it to where you are relationally right now. It may be that, if possible, you need to jettison some people and restrict contact from them. It doesn’t mean you love them any less. It just means you have to protect yourself from having a depleted soul. This may not be easy to do.

Figure it out.

In The Writing Life, Annie Dillard writes: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”

Live intentionally. It’ll help you discern who you need to spend your time with.

Friends are friends forever. Until they aren’t, and that may not be a bad thing.

And remember: What a friend we have in Jesus.

Talk later.

“I don’t care.”

I actually said that yesterday. That is an alien phrase for me. Lord knows that I tend to care too much, if that’s possible. Or, maybe, I don’t care in the way I should.

I’ve mentioned in these pages many times that my tendency is to be a “fixer”- of people and things. What that reveals to me about myself is that I’m actually pretty self-serving. If I can fix someone, or at least show that I care, then I can feel better about myself. Maybe that’s some weird form of co-dependency – I’m validated when I reach out to someone I think is dealing with junk, and they respond in gratitude.

That’s kinda sick, y’know?

Let me hasten to say that I do care, deeply, for many people. I’m just continually learning how to express that care without trying to set things right. It’s better for me to simply be around, supportive, than trying to correct things.

So if I’ve ever had personal dealings with you, and I’ve overstepped, forgive me. I’m learning how to best minister.

With that as background, let me revisit yesterday.

I had an occasion to take stock in myself based on some actions I’d taken. I’ll spare you the details. (Actually, it’s none of your business. So there.) It wasn’t that I’d done anything illegal or immoral – far from it – but it was a matter of me recognizing my boundaries. Knowing when to speak, knowing when to be quiet, knowing when to listen. Mostly, though,  it was knowing when someone had to face a trial, just them and God, and without me playing assistant to the Holy Spirit.

Then it occurred to me – “I don’t care.”

This is a paradox, because I do care. The epitaph on my tombstone will probably read “All In.”

Where the “don’t care” thought comes in is because of an awareness that in order for me to be a genuine family member, friend, or even acquaintance, I gotta protect myself. I gotta protect my heart. If I end up heartless, for whatever reason (and most likely, it’ll be because I laid it out there one time too many, or for the wrong reasons, or before the wrong person) – I’m sunk. I’m sidelined. I’m a wounded soldier in God’s army.

I’m happy to say that the horrific, dark, unscalable pit I found myself in is much less threatening. Thank you Jesus.

What it’s led me to do, though, is help me determine what my healthy heart should look like. I’m identifying seven personal signs. Maybe these might help you evaluate the state of your own heart. A healthy heart:

1. Can feel emotion. It fully engages in the spectrum of feelings. It isn’t flat-lined.

2. Is mindful and able to engage in the moment. It isn’t distant and aloof. It is present and feeling.

3. Has room for spontaneity, fun, and laughter. It isn’t bitter and shriveled. It enjoys good times.

4. Has compassion for lost and hurting people. It’s willing to appropriately risk itself for others. It’s caring, not callous.

5. Is hopeful and optimistic. It looks forward to the future because it believes that things can and will be better – if not on this side of eternity, at least in the hereafter. It isn’t pessimistic. At worst, it’s painfully realistic.

6. Has energy for people. It enjoys being with others. Note: Remember I’m a full-on introvert. But I do appreciate, enjoy, even need that interaction with others. It sort of has to be on my own terms, or else I have to fake it. Still. Tell me about your life, and give me the unabridged version, and I’m all yours.

7. Has the capacity to hear God’s prompting. It listens for Him. It is not inattentive and closed off. And it responds in obedience.

How about it, pilgrim? How is your heart?

It’s occurred to me that if I don’t care, that can conceivably be a positive thing for my own well-being.

However … I have to surrender to God. It’s a matter of abandoning my own independence, and not put any limits on how He leads me to. care. He’ll show me how. I don’t think I’m off the hook on that one.

Until I learn how to care appropriately, I can’t be who He put me here to be.

Be well.

I don’t have many friends.

I’m not sure how you might interpret that … do you feel sorry for me? Do you identify with me? Is this so alien a thought that you think I should get some professional help?

Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s not like I have no friends. I do have some. Just not many.

I don’t have many friends because I couldn’t handle too many. I believe I have a capacity for real love. I am always telling myself to “love appropriately.”

Part of my temperament (4w5, Enneagram fans) is that I’ve always been insular. If I let you into my life, and if you are my friend, then, for better or worse, I’m all in. What a blessing! What a curse! I scary love my friends. That means I have to set boundaries to keep from depleting my soul. That means, too, that God has to often intervene in my friendships, or else I’ll try to give of myself when I’m all spent. Not good. And, overthinker that I am, I do often wonder, “Tony. Dude. Are you handling this relationship as you should?” Because if I don’t guard myself, I’m just really sure I get on people’s nerves, and to be at fault of ruining a lovely relationship. Dang. That thought terrifies me. (See 1 and 2, below.)

So I’m gonna invest myself in just a few. I love everybody with no reservations, but there aren’t that many I can go the full distance with. I hope you understand that. I’m okay if you don’t.

I don’t necessarily think in terms of “what I’m looking for” in a friend, but I do have things that I value.

Let me share 10 traits I value in my friends.

I’d like for this to be interactive. I’d love for you to share yours with the rest of us in the comment section below.

These are in no particular order.

1. Availability. I’m thinking about that 3 a.m. friend, that if I were in a real crisis, I could call them and know they’d come without hesitation.
2. Space. The contrast here would be that I value friends who give me breathing room. I don’t want someone in my face, ever. Don’t hover around me. Knowing you’re there is plenty enough. (This is a skill I constantly work on, btw.)
3. Humor. Lord deliver me from folks who take themselves so stinkin’ seriously. I’m not talking about a good joke-teller here, although that’s okay. I value that. I mean someone who just simply finds stuff funny, even things other people don’t. My sense of humor leans toward absurdity, and I love satire. My friends need to roll with that. Some of my favorite people are those who are just funny, and they aren’t trying to be.
4. Depth. I can tolerate surface small talk for a while. I can even pull it off in a pinch. But sooner or later, I gotta have those deep, meaningful discussions. Maybe even self-relavatory. If I ask “How are you doing?”, I mean “How are you really doing?” I can go with the theology of creation, or why God made mosquitos, or the most embarrassed you’ve ever been. Wanna talk about the meaning of life? I’m in.
5. Loyalty. All of us have experienced the pain of being “ditched.” I’m too old to let that bother me like it would’ve when I was much younger. Still, it hurts to be betrayed. So loyalty? Yeah.
6. Forgiveness. I simply don’t want to be around folks who hold grudges, much less have them as friends. If you and I are to model Christlikeness, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to withhold forgiveness. We forgive because we were first forgiven. When you forgive, you’re exercising a superpower. I like that.
7. Integrity. Say what you mean and mean what you say. I value consistency as a friendship trait. A synonym could be “authenticity.” Just be real. I can spot a phony a mile away.
8. Encouragement. Prop me up from time to time, okay? I hope that doesn’t display some sort of neediness on my part. If you can sincerely say “Tony, it’s gonna be okay,” I’ll follow you to the jumping off place. You will have made my day. Maybe even my week. Okay, you’ve made my whole freakin’ life just a little better.
9. Tolerance. Follow me here. I’m not talking about tolerating wickedness or sin. Now, I can be pretty keen on “live and let live.” But that doesn’t mean that you or I either one should turn a blind eye to evil, even if that evil is sanctioned and culturally incorporated. I guess a better term would be “open-mindedness,”  seeing things from the other person’s point of view. Listening. Seeking first to understand before trying to be understood. I like to be around folks who’ll give others an honest hearing, even if they have no intention of being converted to an opposing viewpoint.
10. Faith. I love to see Jesus in my friends. I have friends who are nonbelievers, and that seems appropriate to me. Look who Christ hung out with. But for my besties, I need folks who are examples of “iron sharpening iron.” I know what kind of spiritual laziness I’m capable of. I’m not afraid of being accountable to Christian friends, even though sometimes in the flesh I want them to mind their own business. Faith in God? Yes, please.

I don’t have that many friends.

Don’t feel bad for me. Like I said, that is mostly by choice. It’s an introvert thing, and if you’re an innie like me, you know what I’m talking about.

That’s what I’m about. What are the traits you value in your friends? I’d love for you to share your thoughts below.

Be well.

(That’s the Ryman Auditorium, above. It may not have much to do with my blog, but I liked the photo).

Ah, the Southern Baptist Convention and some inside baseball! 

I hadn’t planned on saying much about the SBC, simply because of my thinking that it would be of limited interest, especially to non-Southern Baptists. 

But I’ve received a significant number of requests to talk about it, to share my take, and see if there are any universal encouragements to be found there. 

I still think it’s pretty much inside baseball talk. Most Baptists are more concerned with the temperature of their Sunday School rooms and who is going to look after the kids in the church nursery rather than the doings at the world’s largest church business meeting.

With all that in mind, here’s my take. This is solely Tony’s impressions – I in no fashion am speaking for anyone else, group, entity, whatever. 

You can find out all the details you want by visiting this site. It’s all here. You can do a deep dive if you like, or not. You can form your own opinion, which I recommend. 

So, in no particular order, here are my admittedly scattered and definitely subjective thoughts.

1. Some would have you believe that the Southern Baptist Convention is going all “woke.” Uh, no. We as a convention do “resolutions,” which aren’t legally binding in any way. They’re simply a stance that the Convention in session takes. Churches aren’t obligated in any way to embrace or follow them. One thing I’m having to constantly explain to people, even Baptists, is that a local congregation doesn’t answer to any hierarchy. We are bottom up in structure, not top down. There is no ruling body. Churches can voluntarily cooperate on the local, state, or national level, but no one in Nashville tells us what to do, by golly.
2. That “woke” thing? I imagine it grows out of a debate over Critical Race Theory that’s been meandering around for the last couple of years. Some perhaps thought the convention was “selling out,” whatever that means. CRT was never mentioned by name, and I personally have some serious issues over any ideology that pits one race against another. But if the issue is one of hearing out my African-American brothers and sisters, and being willing to learn and change for the good of the Kingdom, you can bet I can get behind that. The messengers to the convention thought so, too. As an aside – did you know that nearly a quarter of Southern Baptist churches are predominately non-Anglo?
3. One writer said “The 2021 SBC was essentially a family squabble worked out through a democratic polity on the national stage.” That’s pretty accurate. Know what, though? I never got the sense that there was any real anger. Some drama, sure. Emotional moments – true that. I have to say, though, some parts were laugh-out-loud funny, and they didn’t mean to be. I’d mention some, but since humor can be in the eye of the beholder, I’ll keep my own counsel. 
4. When the NY Times, Newsweek, the Washington Post, etc., all had news coverage of the convention, maybe it isn’t as inside baseball as I thought. The Nashville paper had multipage coverage. I wonder why this was such a big deal in the secular press?
5. Jay Strother noted this: “We reached ‘peak Baptist’ when the discussion on a motion asking to extend the time for motions took all the time allocated for motions. You can’t make this stuff up.” Agreed. For the record, I cordially detest church business meetings. They tend to affect my health, and the doctor took me off of them. But this is a church business meeting on steroids, and it is executed on such a grand and spectacular scale, I can’t help but watch. 
6. J.D. Greear has his critics, for sure. But doggone, if that ol’ boy didn’t handle the potentially treacherous moments with skill, verve, and aplomb. He was simply chill, and it served him and us well. But there also needs to be a hat tip to Barry McCarty, who’s been at the chief parliamentarian post for, I dunno, decades. Barry was right at J.D.’s side, always with a bemused grin, and keeping things moving along properly and in order. I’d note that there were some folks at microphones who didn’t appreciate not having their moment of pale glory because it would be a breach of how things are done. Well, we have rules for a reason. When you have almost 16,000 folks, any of whom can have their say on a really large stage, someone (or someones) has to referee. 
7. Southern Baptists took a clear, passionate, unquestioned stand against abortion. Yay that. I never had any question about our stance on abortion anyway, but that particular resolution. Man.
8. The SBC is only in existance a couple of days a year. Without getting in the weeds, there is an Executive Committee who manages the daily affairs of the convention, more or less. Ronnie Floyd (who was a classmate of mine at Southwestern Seminary, but I only knew him in passing) is the president and CEO (can’t say I love that CEO term.) There was lots of talk about how the Executive Committee handled allegations of sexual abuse in some churches, and Ronnie was in the process of hiring an outside group to investigate the Committee’s culpability. Well, the messengers said, “Hold on, y’all. Rather than the EC retaining the services of a group to investigate themselves, it’s probably a lot more proper and transparent if the Convention President (Ed Litton) puts together a task force to do the investigating.” Done. That’s really something right there. Five proposed resolutions called for the executive committee to be investigated by a third-party organization. That chain of events is open to all sorts of interpretation and speculation.
9. I’m gonna classify the 2021 SBC as the first Hipster Convention. There were almost 16,000 messengers, another 3000 or so friends and family, and who knows how many other hangers-on. I’d confidently say there were 20,000 folks milling around. In a really casual survey I took, I asked several folks what they thought the median age was of the people attending. The general consensus was early to mid-40’s. A hand-raised survey during one of the sessions showed that the majority of participants were first-timers – they’d never been to a SBC before. I saw PLENTY of tattoos, Spurgeon beards, fiip-flops, and shorts. And familles. Lots of families. Some of the senior adults (and I’m part of those ranks now) were walking around in an absolute daze. They couldn’t figure it out. It’s no exaggeration to say that less than 1% of the men there had on neckties. About as dressy as it got was a polo shirt with a sports coat and nice jeans, and even that look was rare. Question: What’s wrong with any of that?
10. Those aforementioned hipsters? I sensed that they were thoroughly unimpressed with any politicking and posturing. They didn’t care about the Conservative Resurgence other than a historical footnote. Again, this is a subjective gut assessment, but I felt like this new crop of leaders were more interested in reaching the nations with the gospel of Jesus Christ – and have fun and find joy in the process. Imagine that. Ronnie Floyd made a comment at one point about the necessity of not alienating the SBC base. I don’t think there is such a thing. That was one diverse group I spent time with last week. Good, good people.
11. Am I encouraged by what I saw? You bet I was. Nope, that’s not the SBC I’ve grown up with. And that’s okay. I can’t help getting older, but I can avoid being a dinosaur, succumbing to that “we’ve never done it that way before” mindset. I won’t let the parade pass me by. Break me off a piece of what I saw. 
12. Finally, Ed Stetzer is one of the smartest people I’ve ever run across. He scares some folks to death. His take in Christianity Today – which some days, I question as a media outlet, because sometimes they get a little “out there” for my theological tastes – is a good one, whether you agree with his conclusions or not. Read it here. 

I was in “the room where it happened.” I’m calling it as I saw it. If you were there, you might’ve seen something I didn’t. That’s okay. I’ve offered a subjective view, and, as always, you can find objectvivity elsewhere, the “just the facts, ma’am” stuff. 

Enough inside baseball. I’ll be back next week with typical Tony stuff.

Be blessed. Be well. Comment away!

Who’s on first? For most folks – at least those of us of a certain age – that phrase conjured up memories of one of the all-time classic comedy sketches which sprung from the comedic team of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello.

Many, many years ago, my son Jeremy and I went through an obsessive Abbott and Costello phase, which began with a random viewing of “Who’s on First?” I don’t know how we ran across that. I was familiar with it, of course. Jeremy, who was maybe eight years old, was convulsed by the whole thing.

This was back in the Blockbuster days, when you could go to the local store and find all sorts of random things on VHS (remember that?) I did a little digging, and found that Abbott and Costello made 36 movies. I think our first movie was Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, and we worked through several more over a period of months: In the Navy, Hold That Ghost, The Naughty Nineties come to mind. Good times and great oldies!

Those guys were huge stars in the 40’s and 50’s. That “Who’s On First” routine? They never memorized it. They just played off each other. Over the years it was tweaked and fine-tuned, and it was always fresh.

Lou was the physical comedian, a real clown, a master of slapstick. Bud was the straight man. Their first appearance I’m aware of was on The Kate Smith Hour (thank you, Wikipedia) March 24, 1938. They were off and running from then on. Check this out: Over the next 20 years, they worked in radio, TV, and movies, and at the height of their careers their income averaged $1.75 million a year, which in the 1940’s was definitely not chump change. Film distributors ranked them as the top box office draws in the country in 1942.

As is often the case, unfortunately, there was a lot of hurt that went on out of the limelight.

The duo had a weekly radio show on NBC which broadcast every Thursday. On November 4, 1943, Bud Abbott (who had been very ill with rheumatic fever and had been bedridden for six months) shared with a shocked radio audience that Lou’s infant son Butch – one year old – had drowned in the family’s swimming pool that day.

He said, “In the face of the greatest tragedy that can come to any man, Lou Costello went on tonight so that you, the radio audience, would not be disappointed. There’s is nothing more that I can say except I know you all join me in expressing our deepest sympathy to a great trooper. Good night.”

The show must go on, indeed.

Both men faced severe health issues and wrestled with personal demons. Both gambled heavily. Bud was epileptic; he would have a seizure and Lou had to carry him off the stage. Bud went on to self-medicate with alcohol. Lou had bouts of rheumatic fever, and by some accounts never completely recovered from the death of his son.

And – Universal dropped the comedy team in 1955 after they could not agree on contract terms. In the early 1950s, the IRS charged them for back taxes, forcing them to sell their homes and most of their assets, including the rights to most of their films.

Lou Costello died in 1959. Bud Abbott died of cancer in 1974. His niece asked him before his death, “How much did you make in your career?”

“Ten or twenty,” he replied.

“Ten or twenty what?”

“Million.”

By now you may be wondering, “Why this ruminating on two comedians who have long since departed?”

Two things:

• People find themselves in tough spots all the time. It happens to the rich and famous, and it happens to ordinary folks like us, too.
• It’s understanding “Who’s on first?”

Abbott and Costello were professional funny guys. It might be that humor is one of your defense mechanisms (it for sure is one of mine.) It might be that you hide your struggles behind a happy face. Your default answer to the question “how you doing?” is “fine.” Maybe you’re fine, maybe you aren’t.

Part of the whole human experience is understanding that it’s okay to struggle. It should actually be anticipated, because it’s going to happen. How we respond is very self-revealing.

I’m not advocating whining and complaining, and when someone asks “how you doing?” giving them a long, uncomfortable answer. I am advocating keeping it real, and sharing with those safe people in your life. You need those folks.

And second, it’s knowing “Who’s on first,” as in “Who is first in your life?”

Jesus, right? I pray that it’s so.

Here are my marching orders:

• Get honest with God. It’s not like He doesn’t understand what you’re facing.
• Get honest with trusted other Christians. Find at least one person you can be authentic with.
• If you’re lonely, brokenhearted, anxious, or depressed, remember  – you’ll never walk alone.
• Just be real. If you can’t be real, you won’t get help.
• Be encouraged. Hopelessness is not an option.

Be well. Comments are, as always, welcome.