Surgery went well. In recovery, experiencing quite a lot of pain. Will move to a room later this evening. We so appreciate all the prayers.

 

The wife of my youth has surgery this morning, hiatal hernia and related. She is being checked in now here at St Luke's Baylor, Houston medical center.

My sincere thanks for every form of recognition of my 80th birthday. May God bless each and everyone who participated. Amen.

Do we live in a great country or what? Today is Monday, August 17, 2026, and I have been busy getting ready to get ready to make progress in my 81st year. Humbled is not even a good word to express how I feel about the responses, wishes, and greetings I have received in recognition of my 80th birthday. The family bought me the gift I asked for. It's a recumbent exercise bike. It's one of those made for senior adults. That would be me. My beautiful wife, the wife of my youth since December, 1964, did a remarkable job putting together a recognition celebration this past Saturday. She has been on a whirlwind of activity, not only getting everything ready for the birthday, but also all of the above and more. Now she moves on to a surgical procedure scheduled for early tomorrow morning. She will be undergoing surgery to deal with a hiatal hernia and the repair of some other esophageal issues. Perhaps she will get some really good rest when they administer the anesthesia. Ha! I will do my best to make sure she follows the doctor's orders. I will try. As they say, I will have to get up early and stay up late if I am to succeed in that endeavor. Ha! Yesterday, on Sunday morning, we both were dressed and in the process of leaving for Church when our Jimmy suffered a major, extended seizure. The fire department came, the EMT squad showed up, and even the police came and checked on what was going on. The wife accompanied him to the ER, and I went on to Church, met my dear sister JoAnn and her bosom friend Barbara there, where we enjoyed a great time of Bible study, worship, and hearing the word of God preached. Afterwards, we enjoyed a great meal where we laughed and talked for an hour. Judge Wayne Mack stopped by to say hello. He and his family have been attending our services, and we exchanged sweet fellowship. When I asked for the check, the young man told us our meal had been paid for by Judge Mack in recognition of my 80th birthday. What a surprise, and I felt ever so grateful. Our Jimmy was admitted to the hospital and is currently undergoing a lot of tests at this time. Please include him in your prayers. 

 

Thinking about pursuing 81, I heard an obscure country singer doing a song entitled "Time Keeps Whittling on Me". I couldn't locate the lyrics, but they pretty well spell out how time does exactly that, whittling away. Not familiar with whittling? Whittling is the process of shaping wood by shaving small thin slices or slivers from it with a knife. The metaphor would make me the wood and time the knife. I'm sure you are glad I cleared that up. Right? The other day we had a problem with our air conditioning unit, specifically the water draining system. It was leaking water into our downstairs bathroom. I am not a technician, but I do know that when this happens, it's not good. Our son Jimmy and I tried a few things, but we were not able to fix the problem. Finally, I decided to get closer to the issue. I got up into the attic and began to negotiate my way over the AC unit, the ducting, and several other obstacles. These required some contortionist moves that I tried but failed to produce. The bottom line: Time Keeps Whittling on Me. I've had a wee bit of trouble walking since that little episode. We called in the experts, and they fixed the problem. They did. They really did. Another lesson learned. I am not an acrobat. Not even close. The old Hee Haw cliché applies: "Doctor, it hurts when I do this. Well, don't do it." Please say a prayer for the wife's surgery that all will go well, and for our son Jimmy, in Jesus' Name. Amen.

“The advantage to being eighty years old is that one has had many people to love.” – Jean Renoir (French Film Director B 1894-1979)

Good morning. Welcome to the continuing saga where yours truly gets to share all the news he sees fit to print. (All the News Fit to Print was at one time a trustworthy label carried by the New York Times. Trust me, that is no longer the case.) We find ourselves celebrating another day on God's created sphere called Earth. This particular day is Friday, August 14, 2026. As many of you know, God providing, I will be celebrating my 80th trip around the sun this coming Sunday. That's 960 months; four-fifths of a century; 29,220 days; fourscore; and here in the United States, I join that 4% Club representing the number of Americans who are 80 and older. When you see me, it will not be necessary to refer to me as Mr. Octogenarian or make reference to me reaching the Big 8-0. You can also skip reminding me that my birthday coincides with the day Elvis left the building for the last time. You may remember that noteworthy greeting I received when I arrived home from work back on August 16, 1977, from our 6-year-old: "Daddy, Daddy, the king is dead, the king is dead." Under my breath, I whispered, Happy Birthday to me. Let me just say this about this milestone: God has been way better to me than I have been to Him. I admit I have been musing over reaching this threshold for some time now. It seems that every time I think about it, I am reminded of a song written by the late, great, singer/songwriter, Rusty Goodman:

 

Who Am I?

 

When I think of how He came so far from glory
Came and dwelt among the lowly such as I
To suffer shame and such disgrace
On Mount Calvary take my place
Then I ask myself this question, "Who am I?"

 

Who am I that the King would bleed and die for?
Who am I that He would pray, "Not my will, Thine" for?
The answer I may never know, why He ever loved me so
To an old rugged cross He would go, for who am I?

 

When I'm reminded of His words, "I'll leave you never
If you'll be true, I'll give to you life forever"
I know there's nothing that I could have done
To deserve God's only Son
To fight my battles until they're won, who am I?

 

Who am I that the King would bleed and die for?
Who am I that He would pray, "Not my will, Thine" for?
The answer I may never know, why He ever loved me so
To an old rugged cross He would go, for who am I?

 

 

I am thankful for the family I was raised in and all my folks that made a difference in my life. I owe a debt of gratitude to all those who have helped me along my way, also many I have worked for, and with, and so many others God put in my path, including more than I could number of dear brothers and sisters in Christ. I also thank those who travel with me in support of my blogging activity. Thanks to the dear wife of my youth and the rest of my family, near and far. The most important thanks go to God, period; that's my story, and as best I can I plan to stick to it. Amen and Amen.

Psalm 71:18-19 ~ From the English Standard Version ~ "So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. Your righteousness, O God, reaches the high heavens. You who have done great things, O God, who is like you?"

I saw a funny about old people that said they shouldn't be messed with because, at their age, prison is no longer a deterrent. Then there's the one where the wife tells the husband how he had promised to spend his whole life making her happy. His response was that he had never intended to live as long as he had. I will tell you this. Those jokes once rang a bell for someone other than me. Not anymore! It's Thursday, August 13, 2026, and I welcome each one. Yesterday, the wife and I did our version of over the hills and through the woods to arrive at a medical facility in Houston's downtown medical center. We timed it just right so we could play bumper cars during the early morning rush. We had a bad start to our journey when the access lane to the freeway was shut down, causing us to lose about 30 minutes before we even left our home area. Don't tell me old people can't feel a wee bit of road rage. My co-pilot kept me well informed numerous times about how close we were to crashing. Some of her warnings were very easy to hear, if you know what I mean, Vern. We finally got there. She had some tests that required us to be there for some five hours. During our stay, we, like Yogi Berra, observed a lot just by watching. Really old people were there. Elderly husbands were pushing the wheelchairs for their elderly wives. Elderly wives were pushing the wheelchairs for their elderly husbands. On more than one occasion, we looked at each other and said, "There we go." The trip back home was just as eventful as our journey there. I thought about how blessed we are to now be the ones I used to wonder why they had been let out to drive. We were pretty exhausted after our interesting day there and back. We were. We really were. But you just never get over the realization that God goes with you wherever you are. It's a good feeling, folks. It is. It really is. Amen.

 

I suppose, at my age, I am no longer asked what I want to be when I grow up. However, I have learned how growing up is a lifelong endeavor. The Apostle Paul was inspired to give his personal testimony regarding his journey for the Lord. In his letter penned to the local assembly meeting in Philippi, Greece, here is what he said, "I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me. No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us." (Philippians Chapter 3, Verses 12-14, from the New Living Translation) Here's my take. We may retire from our secular work, but our pursuit of what we desire to be when we grow up in the Lord continues until we leave this life to live forever in His presence. The children's song written by Joel Hemphill says it best:

 

He's still working on me
To make me what I need to be
It took him just a week to make the moon and stars
The sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars
How loving and patient He must be
'Cause He's still workin' on me

 

If you're still breathing air here on the planet, He's still working on you and me too. Have a great rest of the day and remember to give God all the glory. Amen. 

NET Bible ~ 1st John Chapter 3, Verse 2: "Dear friends, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that whenever it is revealed we will be like him, because we will see him just as he is."

It's Wonderful Wednesday, and as I understand it, it began shortly after midnight yesterday. Ha! Regardless, it is the day the Lord has given to us; therefore, let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm118:24) And in our world it's counted as August 12, 2026. I thought about using the proverbial "I'm okay, you're okay" moniker, but that likely doesn't account for all the different situations folks deal with. I will tell you this. When I am in my right position of knowing exactly my relationship with Almighty God, I can very much identify with the sentiment of an old Southern Gospel quartet song that says, "I've got the Lord, and that's enough, that's enough, that's enough for me!" Notice I said when I am in the right position. Confession time. I am not always in the right position. Even when I am not where I should be, He remains faithful to His own. In fact, no one, including me, myself, and I, can change the new identity I received when I called on the name of the Lord to save me. Jesus made this clear. John 10:28-29 "...and I give eternal life to them, and they will never perish—ever; and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand." (As rendered in the Legacy Standard Bible, LSB.) This gives me confidence. Not confidence in me. That would be laughable. Confidence in Him, and Him alone. I can remember things spoken by my folks over the years. Many have gone on to their reward, but I still remember. As I was writing this today, I remembered something my mom said many times: "Son, I just don't know how people make it without Jesus." My response to that sentiment as I near the eight-decade mark is, "I don't either."

 

I do like to tell funny stories, mostly about myself. Why? That seems to be the safest approach in our world since it is ever so hypersensitive. Funny stories can be very embarrassing. I am vertically challenged. Some call it short. I remember one time getting on the elevator at the company where I worked. It was a little crowded, but this very attractive lady standing in the back blurted out, "Well look at you, it's so good to see you again." My countenance changed, and I was about to give her my response when the taller fellow who had pushed in behind me said rather loudly, "Yeah, it's good to see you too." I didn't have a mirror, but I imagine my face looked all potted meat and purple. That was a very long time ago, but because of the mistaken identity and the overload of embarrassment, I do still remember. I wouldn't doubt that it may have happened around the time the song came out saying short people have no reason to live. ('Short People' written and sung by Randy Newman, 1977) I used to measure 5 feet, 7 inches tall; however, the home health folks informed me that I am not so slowly shrinking. I wondered why my pants legs were getting longer. Ha! As you can readily see, it doesn't bother me, not in the least, no, not at all. You did hear me right, not at all. I thought that might brighten someone's day, especially all you taller people. God does love us where we are, but He doesn't intend for us to stay there. While I am almost certain not to grow any taller in the physical realm, we all, those who are God's very own children, have every opportunity to grow spiritually taller and also stronger up and until we draw our last breath. That's what He wants us to do. He does. He really does. Amen.

"Hymns are like a spiritual language that transcends time and space, allowing us to communicate with God in a unique and profound way." - Unknown

Today. It is Tuesday, August 11, 2026. I pray all are well as we continue our journey together on the planet. We had the Southern Gospel Group, Greater Vision, with us at our local fellowship of believers this past Sunday evening. We have hosted many different singing groups over the years. Have you ever noticed the difference between those who are great entertainers versus those who seem to communicate God's voice right smack into your hearing heart? That's how I felt when Greater Vision sang. It was much more than a concert. Don't get me wrong. The music was great, the vocals wonderful, but the lyrics were both heart- and gut-wrenching, many of them written by the very performers on the platform. It was a very special evening. Maybe it was because I needed to hear what they had set to music? Fair enough. I will say this about that. We, in our home, probably watch and listen to more religious music reflecting many different genres than most. That doesn't make me an expert, but it does mean I know when God speaks through the medium of lyrics and music. I do. I really do. I mentioned before the impact that the 34th Psalm set to music and sung by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir has had on my life. It's on YouTube. I dare you to, no, I double dog dare you to look that song up and see what it will do in your life. One of the principal singers on that recording is Durell Comedy. He has sung that song at our local fellowship. I met him, gave him a hug, and I told him what that one song has meant in my life. That song has been viewed and listened to by millions. It has. It really has. Durell is currently the worship pastor at one of our very large sister churches here in our area. I think I wrote about this for a reason. Entertainment versus God-honoring lyrics that Holy Spirit God prompts the heart to respond. I report. I decide. And you can join me if you would like. Ha! (To be clear: Professional Southern Gospel singers are typically paid for their appearances, and it usually is their full-time jobs.)

 

I didn't check with the grammar czar regarding my tone in that first paragraph. I actually do worry about coming across too preachy. At the same time, let me be honest. I don't envy anyone who analyzes almost anything I have produced. I mostly am happy when it finds its way onto the electronic page. I do obsess over it at times, and like the other day when I used a Bible verse out of context, it actually bugged me until I could correct it in the next edition.  I well remember seeing a number of my essay papers with x's, circles, fact questions, and more notes than could be counted, all in red. One day I asked one of my instructors why that much corrective information had been scribbled all over my writing. She said something like this. Son, you have potential. Because you do, I want you to be the best you can be. That is why I spent that much time on your work. I know I have problems with run-on sentences, dangling participles, subject-verb errors- you name it, I'm probably guilty of it. I used to blame it on the Apostle Paul, who penned one sentence comprising between 207 and 257 words depending on the Greek text variant. (Ephesians Chapter 1, verses 3-14) Yeah. I know. His words were Holy Spirit God-inspired. Mine are not. You can quote me on that. Ha! May God add His blessings. Amen.