“Before the reward, there must be labor. You plant before you harvest. You sow in tears before you reap joy." — Ralph Ransom

Here we go! For many, this will be a three-day holiday celebration. I do hope everyone enjoys the 2026 Labor Day Weekend. It is Friday, September 4, 2026, and I do hope today finds you and yours doing well. For those of us no longer in the public workforce, our days are mostly counted based on our next doctor's appointments. Ha! Back in the day, when I worked in the computing and telecommunications world, holidays like Labor Day were opportune times to install software upgrades to the network, meaning we did exactly what the holiday celebrates: we labored. We all know 24x7 jobs must be staffed regardless of the holiday. Air traffic controllers, medical support staff, first responders, hospital workers, military personnel, power plant operators, and many, many others. I think of some Bible verses that emphasize work and associated labors: Colossians 3:23: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters. "Proverbs 14:23: "All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty. "Ecclesiastes 3:22: "So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot." Psalm 127:2: "In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—for he grants sleep to those he loves." 2 Thessalonians 3:10: "The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat. "Proverbs 10:4: "Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth."1 Timothy 5:8: "Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." 1 Corinthians 15:58: "Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain." Genesis 2:15: "The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it." The bottom line: Work and labor were part of creation, and we would do well to follow God's plan and purpose as we go about the work He has provided for us. Amen.

 

Yesterday, we did get a good update from the surgeon regarding the wife's recovery. We made it to the medical center just fine. Halfway back, we encountered a blinding rainstorm. Blinding. It was bumper-to-bumper the rest of the way home. That will fray anyone's nerves, except for the 18-wheelers and those jacked-up pickup trucks. Those fellows seem to enjoy engulfing everyone riding beside them with water spray that rocks the vehicle. Just my observation; I'm not being overly critical because they may do it without knowing it. As you can tell, I am here slinging words again; therefore, it's clear we made it. When we finally got to our homeplace, I told the wife how I thanked God for His provision and protection there and back. Hopefully I will get these fingers to unwind by Sunday. Ha. (From holding the steering wheel so tightly.) Y'all enjoy your Saturday, and on Sunday, I hope to see you at our gathering place, where we will join hearts in seeking our Great God. Monday will be a special day for us: It will be Monday. Thanks for your support, and may God add His blessings. Amen.

“You don’t navigate traffic; you negotiate with it, and usually, you lose.” — Unknown

We have a travel day today, Thursday, September 3, 2026. Yep. We travel down into the heart of the metroplex, down to the Houston Medical Center, Baylor School of Medicine, to be precise. This will be the follow-up appointment for the wife with the surgeon or his designee. I should say Super Surgeon since he has so much starch in that long white coat it almost looks like one of the capes on a superhero. Just kidding. A little. I remember when we would go back to our Louisiana home place where we attended church with our folks. The folks remembered us, but when Mom told them we were from the Houston area, their faces would fall. Why? We learned that many of their friends were sent to Houston as a last resort for medical treatment. Many of them died in the Houston area. I should remember how to get to the doctor's office since we were there a few weeks ago. I should. I actually did go there again when the wife was in the hospital. I thought I knew where I was going. I ended up at the doctor's office, and a fellow flagged me down and told me I was going the wrong way on a one-way street. He was a security fellow and very pleasant. I asked where the hospital was, and he gave me directions. I shook hands with him, and we both wished each other a God-blessed day. He told me I might want to get out of there since other folks would be headed towards me. Ha! This time I will ask for God's guidance along with the GPS utility and the help from my co-pilot sitting beside me. I imagine some of you are shaking your heads, thinking I don't know directions very well. Bingo! Here's my current response: It's the confounded construction! That's why I have trouble finding my way. Got it? Good. Ha!

 

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Today I remember my little brother because this is his birth date. He left us for his eternal destiny back in 2011. I am three years older than Donald. We were fairly close when we were younger. After Dad passed away in 1954, we moved to the tiny village of Hornbeck, Louisiana. We moved in with my mom's parents, Granny and Paw Paw Mac. I was 7, and Donald was 4. They put us three boys in a bedroom, including our older brother Jimmy, the eldest of six children. Jimmy was 12 at the time. Jimmy got the single bed, and Donald and I slept together in the double bed. This was a new beginning of sorts for our pitiful little family. We had some great challenges intermixed with some great times in those transition days. I don't know exactly when and where, but Donald, even at an early age, determined he would travel on The Donald Road. He was different. Looking back, one thing I admire about him is how he wore his difference out for everyone to see. He pretty much bucked the system and, at age 17, after high school, he went off to find new adventures in the United States Marine Corps. He spent the next 20 years serving our country. He spent much of his time as a Drill Sergeant, a position he dearly loved. His life was filled with much difficulty in his personal family life, and he chased several personal demons as well. We reunited as brothers when he returned to the east side of Houston for a job serving the school district in their ROTC program. He came often to our home and to our church services. We enjoyed Sunday lunch together often. His last years were spent dealing with health challenges, and because I lived closest, I became the point person for the family. My sister Jo and I were privileged to be with him when he passed from this life to the next. Our stepbrother Victor and I conducted his homegoing service. He was buried in our family plot with full military honors in that little town where we restarted our lives back in 1954. Many Marines have told me the impact the drill instructor had on their lives and how their training allowed them to come home after being in a hot war situation. They instructed me to say Thank You to my brother for helping them and others survive. His life counted. May God bless his children and his memory as we think about him today. Amen.

Psalm 93:4 (ESV) "Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty!"

Good morning and welcome. It is Wednesday, September 2, 2026, and I am thanking God for the couple of showers we received last evening. Sadly, after the tropical storm passed, many have suffered heavy rains, with one area receiving over 20 inches. If anyone has been around these parts very long, they are well aware of what can happen in these types of torrential downpours. I threw together the little Mrs. Claus tribute and messaged it to her to brighten her day. It did. Her recovery from surgery has been a slog, and we have more of the same for the foreseeable future. She has been a terrific patient except for the few times she became a wee bit unhappy with her caregiver, me, myself, and I. That didn't really bother me, not at all, hardly any, not in the least; you can tell, can't you? Ha! I also made her a new design for an angel food cake, and I served it with strawberry juice and Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla. She loved it. I didn't whip the egg whites enough; therefore, the cake shall now be referred to as angel food flatbread. I actually thought about manna when I saw how it turned out. Ha! I also didn't use that special angel food cake pan since I didn't know how to operate it. I used one of those 10"x 13" pans instead. Lesson learned. I love watching the reels of Carter, the five-year-old chef from England. Haven't seen him? Look him up. His short cooking programs are great fun. I'm certain he would not have made the mistake I made.

 

I used the artificial intelligence ChatGPT utility to make that poster for the wife. And, yes, I am aware it has a problem getting the faces exactly correct. I am working on improving that area of use. I get complaints about it, especially from my boys who immediately blow up the generated images and text me how they don't look right. I'm working on it. Okay. I'm working on it. Here's the technical response for why this occurs: "Artificial intelligence struggles to copy faces from original photos because it builds images from mathematical patterns instead of actually 'seeing' or remembering a specific person." Most of the time, it is the thought that counts. If that turns out to be the worst problem I have today, I will thank God and move on. What's that? I could have moved on before I even gave the explanation? Thanks for your input. I will think about thinking about it. Later. I do hope most of you who read my blogs know that I do write a lot of tongue-in-cheek kinds of stuff. Just for the fun of it. I do hope you will recognize that and take it for what it's worth. Now. Get out there and enjoy the day God has given, continue to pray for those in need, and always, yes, always give God the glory that He and He alone deserves. Amen.

"In a world filled with chaos, our pets remind us to enjoy the simple moments." ~ copied

The wife likes it short; I like it scruffy long. The groomer tries to meet us in the middle; they then give me the standard: it will grow out, Sir. Ha!

Good morning, folks, and welcome. Today is Tuesday, where we are celebrating a brand new start to a brand new month, at least for this year, on September 1, 2026. Don't even get me started. According to our friends at Google Search, a man's head wash and haircut costs, on average, between $20 and $70. (The wife of my youth is my hairdresser.) We had Lil Miss Biscuit, our pup, groomed yesterday. Please don't even ask how much it cost. Shockingly outrageous. Think about this one. The wife often says if I am going to have a pup, we have to take care of the pup. My, how times have changed. When I grew up, the dogs that stayed around my grandparents' home- I'm not sure they were ever bathed, ever. Let me correct that. I believe I saw them once or twice out in the rain. Ha! They did get their free rabies shots when the Parish mobile unit came around. Now that I think about it, I do believe my grandfather would occasionally dip them in some awful-smelling stuff to kill some kind of lice or something. Fast forward to today, I do bathe our pup, but that's only a mere smidgen of the norm in taking care of a pet in these times. The veterinarian visit once a year can be very costly, and they track Biscuit as well as our medical plan tracks us. We buy the recommended food, which is the best that can be found; that is, until the vet clinic signs a new agreement with a different dog food company and then their product becomes the best that can be found. Forget about whether Lil Miss Biscuit is worth it. That's not even the point. Here's the national average spent: "Basic care—including food, routine vet visits, grooming, and supplies—averages about $4,272 per year per pet." We may be in the low to mid end of that cost projection; however, look how far we have come. Did I mention the variety of treats we have for our pup? I admit it. I am always looking for a different kind of treat because I wouldn't want her to suffer from monotony. Please forgive me, Paw Paw Mac, but I'm afraid this is how we roll these days. (Federal tax deduction for a child is $2,200 for this year, just saying.)

 

I noticed something the other day while riding my new exercise bike. I was playing a Japanese Samurai series on my phone with English subtitles. When the battle scenes became intense, I pedaled harder. What is that all about? I also noticed something while we were watching clips from the American Ninja Warrior TV series. I found myself straining to help people win even though the clips may have been from several years ago. Silly, don't you think? I asked my ever-present internet friend, Mr. Artificial Intelligence, about this situation. Here is his answer: "We root for people on television to win because our brains process them like real social connections and trigger emotional rewards when they succeed." No wonder my grandfather got so worked up watching the tiny black and white TV when the Russian professional wrestler was beating up on our American professional wrestling champion. We laughed at him back then. But who's laughing now? Even our pastor admits to hollering at the TV set when his team is playing. Before anyone writes me a letter about my viewing choices, I also hasten to inform my reading audience of the many hours of research I do pursuing the best presentation of God's Word for my Bible Study Class. Hours. Many. I just wanted to make it a wee bit harder for any naysayers lurking around seeking whom they might criticize. That's a joke, but if it finds a home where you are, remember what the preachers often say, "It's the hit dog that barks." Relax, I'm just having a little fun. Get out there and pedal a little harder. Do it for the Kingdom! Right? Amen.

"How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!" ~ John Muir, (1838-1914), Scottish-born American environmental philosopher.

Good morning and welcome. I am back at the old keyboard doing my thing on this Monday, August 31, 2026. We had a wonderful time at our local fellowship gathering yesterday, and I am happy to report that the wife continues to show progress in her recovery from esophageal surgery. Our son Jimmy should get some answers this week regarding his injured spine. As for yours truly, I continue in my support role here on the home front while still trying to wrap my head around what it feels like to be 80. Ha! Yesterday, I met a lady greeter at our local fellowship, and she volunteered that she was 90 years old. We have another lady who faithfully sings in our Church choir who is well into her 90s. There is a notable gender gap: among those who attain older age, the ladies maintain a 3-to-1 advantage over the men. One of the fastest-growing age groups by percentage is 90 and older, now exceeding 2 million. I've said all of that to say this: My life is in His hands. Those ladies I mentioned testify to how one can keep on keeping on as long as the Lord allows. Some call that fatalism. I call it faithalism. I know that's not a recognized word, but I am prone to make one up now and then. I recently heard a recognized celebrity say that what he knew about heaven sounded pretty boring to him. How absurd! Here is my faith response to that kind of dangerous viewpoint: From the Legacy Standard Bible, 1st John 3, Verse 2, "Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not been manifested as yet what we will be. We know that when He is manifested, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is." I am anxiously awaiting the experience of this very truth. What say you?

I remain interested in figures of speech. Wordplay too. I read this one recently: "If I knew the difference between 'anecdote' and 'antidote', my friend would still be alive." There's this one: "A tourist asked an Irishman the best way to get to a certain castle. The Irishman asked if he was driving or walking. The tourist said he was driving. The Irishman replied, 'That's the best way.'" If you look at the definition of a figure of speech, it gets pretty lengthy.  From Grammarly, the software program I use: "A figure of speech is a creative use of language to generate an effect, enhance an expression, or evoke an emotion." Some examples include a simile, a metaphor, hyperbole, or an idiom. In my case, my approach is to sling slang onto the electronic page. Ha! What would you expect? I grew up where people could be madder than a wet hen, or maybe worn slap out. Things could get all cattywampus on you, or you might just get yourself overtaken by a hankering. Even as a kid, I flinched a little trying to understand my grandfather's lament, "I feel like I've been pulled through a rat hole backwards." I did know exactly what was meant when I heard, "I'm gonna tan your hide." My point? Is it any wonder I end up writing the way I do? I don't think I've ever used this one because I'm not sure exactly what it means, 'happier than a dead pig in the sunshine'. Maybe you do. Now y'all have yourselves a blessed day as God provides, y'all hear? Just get out there and do it. May God add His blessings. Amen.

This Buck Owens Song reminds me of when I first saw the girl of my dreams, now the wife of my youth: "I was looking back to see If you were looking back to see If I was looking back to see If you were looking back at me"

Okay. I have checked the calendar on this personal computer, and it agrees: Today is Friday, August 28, 2026. Thanks for showing up. I hope you know how encouraging it is to know you're keeping up with what's happening here at the ole blogger ranch. Thanks ever so much for your prayers on behalf of the wife of my youth in her recovery from surgery, and for our son Jimmy also in recovery from some cracked ribs and a fractured vertebra. She sees her primary care doctor today for a follow-up and her surgeon next week. Jimmy has an appointment next week to further examine his spine. Meanwhile, yours truly is pretty much wearing out his welcome as the self-appointed medical administrator. How do I know this? It has something to do with the decibel ratings coming from the patient side of the house, but I will save that for another day. Perhaps when I am out of town and out of range, if you get my drift. I may be 80 years young, but I am still in a learning mode. This happened to me the other day: I was sitting downstairs, and a really great idea came to me, and it involved making something on the computer. There have been times in my life when I would have been very proud of myself for coming up with that kind of idea. Not this time. I stopped. I looked up. I thanked God for His provision. You might think that somewhat lame, but at my age, you gain a better understanding that it all comes from Him and He deserves the praise for it. It does. He really does. Amen.

 

Does anyone know where I should turn in my nurse's uniform? That's a joke. The jacket that comes with it is a size 38-40, just in case you are interested. Still joking.  I'm thinking of adding these bedside skills to my resume. At 80, my resume is already quite lengthy. Think about it. Just listing the years takes a couple of pages. Ha! I know what many of you are thinking. The need for a resume, well, that train left the station a long time ago. And that it did; however, it doesn't mean I'm not adding new items all the time. When you no longer have anything to add, well, I think we all know what that means. Cue the dirge. I'm just joking around to try to make up for my sadness in being an unemployed male nurse. Ha! Okay. That's not only enough, but it was enough some time ago. Lord willing and as He provides, here is what I have in mind for the rest of this week and leading into next week. Ready? I will continue to get ready to finish getting ready for teaching the last two chapters in the Old Testament Book of Ruth. What a great writing preserved for our learning. (Romans 15:4) The wife said I could teach the entire book without even reading it again, but that's just her opinion. Here's the truth: Keep on studying because God shows us something different every time we do. He does. He really does. All of this studying is in preparation for what happens next week. That's right. My broken record keeps on keeping on; that is because I'm talking about Sunday, the first day of next week, and that's when we get to go to the meeting place of our local called-out assembly. Yay and Amen. God shows up in a special way when His people gather together to hear from Him. He does. He really does. Amen.

"Memory only becomes interesting through its struggle with forgetfulness." ~ Adrian Forty, Emeritus Professor of Architectural History at The Bartlett, the Faculty of the Built Environment at University College London.

Still mixed up here at the ole blogger ranch. Yesterday was not Thursday; it was Wednesday; therefore, today is actually Thursday, August 27, 2026. Unlike what I was always told, we don't lose that many brain cells each day; however, as we age, we do have issues connecting to them. As in the wiring, or synapses, as they are designated. Back in my previous work life in a galaxy far, far away, one of the things I was responsible for was connecting folks to the data center mainframes, a similar situation. All sorts of things could happen to interrupt connectivity. In this feeble example, in my situation, that would be aging- my friend- yes, connectivity issues because of aging. All of the information I need, all of the memories I have, including precise backgrounds, telephone numbers, addresses, birthdays, relationships, connections, it is all still intact, but alas, the connections themselves are both tired and frayed. You should not be surprised when you see me at times practicing a new look: the blank stare. Here is a bit of good news. I still can experience what it means to have God's Spirit bear witness with my spirit that I am His child. (My representation of the truth expressed in Romans 8:16)  I may even have better news. Since I am His child and I have been sealed for eternity by His Spirit, nothing can ever change my Father-Child relationship, not even if I lose my ever-loving mind. (2nd Timothy 2:13)  My point? To my older friends and neighbors: Try not to fret over not being able to remember things like you did earlier in life because that is a very natural thing that happens to us. Instead, thank the Lord that He is still with us, period. Give Him all the glory and praise. Amen.

 

 

One way to deal with issues like forgetfulness is to learn to laugh about it, yep, learn to laugh, even at yourself. That's always been a tough one for me, but I am working on it. There's the one about the older guy telling his doctor about how forgetful he is becoming. The doctor's response was to tell him to please pay in advance. ~ My memory is getting really bad. Do I come here often? ~ One older chicken to another: My memory is getting so bad, yesterday I couldn't remember why I crossed the road. ~ Instead of going down Memory Lane, I'm now traveling on Memory Loss Lane. ~ I'll take remembering things for $200, please. ~ And the list goes on and on. I do realize that if memory loss is associated with chronic illnesses like dementia or Alzheimer's, it is no laughing matter. But age-related memory issues are a fact of life. My wife often says I have great recall. To be honest, she doesn't say that nearly as much as she used to. And that's okay. I am amused by how I often pause in the middle of telling something while my personal search engine inside my pea-sized brain looks for the next phrase. Get my point? Oh well, I am beginning to get used to hearing the wife tell me that I've already told that story. I usually say it is worth telling again, but she says it might be, but not right after you've told it. Is this a great country or what? Are we having fun or what? Thanks for tuning in, and may God add His blessings. Amen.