"As we move into the world to make a difference, how do we stay connected to this history-shaping, world-changing God? The answer is so simple that it may surprise you: read the Bible. The God who changed our hearts continues to change our hearts through His Word." ~ Lifeway material.

“Lord, help me not to take for granted each day You give me to make a difference.” Amen.

 

How are you doing on this fine day? If you didn’t know already, it’s Wednesday, October 28, 2026. Some who read my blog do so on their phones; therefore, if I happen to send it out early, they get a not-altogether-welcome wake-up ding. For them, I have this: From the depths of your slumber, I bid you a hearty welcome to a brand-new day. Ha! Honestly, I do try to delay sending things out until I can at least clearly make out objects after sunrise. Ha.

 

In 1969, during my early days of working in downtown Houston, we had a way of greeting those who arrived at the office past starting time. Back then, we had two newspapers: the Houston Chronicle and the Houston Post. For the late arrivals, we asked if they had brought a copy of the afternoon paper with them.

 

At that time, I held one of the lowest positions in the department. This is God’s truth: I never dreamed—never—that I would become a supervisor, a manager, a senior manager, and, eighteen years later, work out of an office at the point of the famous Pennzoil Place building as the head of a department of 175 people.

 

Here’s what I say about this: Only God! That’s right. Only God. Did I work hard? You betcha! But I am convinced, from the inside out, that the opportunities provided to me came from God. They did. They really did.

 

No doubt, there were times when I was filled with ego and pride. But my story is all about how God made it possible. That’s the truth. And I thank Him for His provision. Amen.

 

I know some folks who never, ever want to think about the past. They may have good reasons not to do so. I enjoy remembering as much as I can from days gone by. Some of it is very painful, but remembering the tragedies reminds me of how God saw us through. He did. He really did.

 

The photo above was taken in front of our house in Hornbeck, Louisiana, on April 3, 1961, Resurrection Sunday. From left to right: Donald, yours truly, JoAnn, Kayla, Mom, Jimmy, and Frances. Today, JoAnn and I are the only ones in that group still breathing air on this planet.

 

I hear what you are saying. And you are correct. I did have a haircut that allowed my huge ears to pick up radio signals from all over the world. Ha!

 

There are plenty of sad memories in the lives of those pictured. But! There are also unforgettable, joyful experiences that come to mind when I look at that photo—times of great feasting and sweet fellowship as our shipwrecked crew tried to pursue our futures.

 

Why shipwrecked? This photo was taken seven years after our dad, our leader and provider, unexpectedly left us for his heavenly abode. Recovering from that loss was difficult, and it marked each of our lives in ways I still cannot find the words to explain.

 

Some still consider our family to be cursed. Sorry. I consider our family to be blessed. God. Only God. That’s the only reason I am still around to share our story. God. Only God.

 

JoAnn and I are now officially designated as old people. You probably saw this coming, but I am reminded of a song I have heard since my earliest days: “Precious Memories.” The lyrics were written by J. B. F. Wright (John Braselton Fillmore, 1877–1959), and the haunting melody was developed by Lonnie B. Combs, a prolific hymn writer (1905–1991). Published in 1925, “Precious Memories” found its way into 145 different church hymnals.

 

I’ll leave you with the song as it appeared in our shape-note songbooks. We never called ours hymnals. Amen.

 

"All the presents in the world are worth nothing without the presence of Christ." ~ Dr. David Jeremiah, Pastor, Bible Teacher, and successful Christian book writer.

Good morning, blog readers. I come to you knowing that my ability to greet you is only through the provision of Almighty God. “The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.” (Job 33:4) No sermon here, just letting you know that I know. Another day, and this one happens to be Tuesday, October 27, 2026.

 

Christmastime is a big deal here at the ole blogger ranch. The photo above shows our new photo studio. We purchased the backdrop, added the props, and, essentially, Santa and Mrs. Claus are getting ready to get ready. We—mostly Mrs. Claus—are also beginning to decorate the rest of the house for Christmas.

 

I hear you. It’s not even Halloween yet. What about Thanksgiving? We’ve often enjoyed our Thanksgiving gathering surrounded by Christmas decorations. Sure. We love bringing joy to children of all ages as Santa and Mrs. Claus, and we have some wonderful stories to prove it.

 

At the same time, we know that we know the true meaning of Christmas. It’s about Jesus coming to save us according to God’s plan from all eternity. I can’t begin to wrap my mind around all that means.

 

In his Holy Spirit-inspired letter to the local called-out assemblies in Galatia, the Apostle Paul explained why Jesus came and what His coming means for us. Here is Galatians 4:1–7, as rendered in the New Living Translation (NLT):

 

“1) Think of it this way. If a father dies and leaves an inheritance for his young children, those children are not much better off than slaves until they grow up, even though they actually own everything their father had. 2) They have to obey their guardians until they reach whatever age their father set.

 

“3) And that’s the way it was with us before Christ came. We were like children; we were slaves to the basic spiritual principles of this world.

 

“4) But when the right time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. 5) God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children. 6) And because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, ‘Abba, Father.’ 7) Now you are no longer a slave but God’s own child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir.”

 

That, my friend, is one powerful way to understand how and why Jesus came to seek and to save the lost. Amen. 

We know several friends, and even some in our family, who are not into Santa at Christmastime. We don't have a problem with those who feel this way. To the best of my knowledge, we've never disconnected from anyone who prefers not to include the jolly old elf in their celebration. Everyone is free to have their own convictions. They are also free to vote for whomever they choose and to support the platform of their choice.

 

I think most people who know us are very clear about our stance regarding politics and government authority. Thus far, we've not had the proverbial dust-up at Thanksgiving over these types of issues. Thus far. We understand the potential for fireworks, and we know it could happen. But we've always tried to emphasize the Reason for the Season, the One to whom we owe our thanks, and our love for one another/family.

 

Well, there you have it. My new song has a working title: “Rambling Prose.” I'll let y'all think about that, and if the Lord allows, I'll be sending something tomorrow. Until then, may God add His blessings. Amen.

Charles M. Schulz: "Life is like an ice-cream cone, you have to lick it one day at a time."

Over the past several days, we have enjoyed amazing weather. Coolish mornings and low-humidity afternoons made the mid-80s feel pretty dadgum good. It almost made me want to get up and go outside. Speaking for the three of us—me, myself, and I—we fought the urge. Why? You've probably heard the joke: My recliner and I go way back. Corny? I plead guilty on all counts.

 

How in the world are y'all doing on this Monday, October 26, 2026?

 

I do typically escort Lil Miss Biscuit outside. That pup! Once she gets out there, she suddenly becomes hard of hearing. She will glance at me but keep right on going where I've told her not to go. She likes to chase butterflies and birds. Meanwhile, the squirrels could run right up to her without her giving them the time of day. According to the wife, the entire neighborhood can hear me hollering at the top of my lungs when I'm calling her back to the house. I know. I could put her on a leash, but she doesn't like it, and I suppose I don't mind exercising my vocal cords.

 

Again, I do thank God for the good weather. I also thank Him for giving me the tools and the ability to visit with y'all. He sure has been good to me. More than I could ever have dreamed. Does that mean everything is hunky-dory all the time? I haven't found that to be the case. However, He has been with me through it all. I do love that song written by the late, great Andraé Crouch:

 

“Through it all, through it all / I've learned to trust in Jesus / I've learned to trust in God / Through it all, through it all / I've learned to depend upon His Word.”

 

I can identify. What say you? 

I am so thankful that I have a throwback wife. That doesn’t mean I’ve thrown her or hurt her back. The word describes someone or something that reminds us of an earlier time. I should know, with nearly 62 years of marriage, plus the three years we dated. Even though she is still slowly recovering from her recent surgery, she can't help but stay busy, usually overdoing it on most days. Yesterday, when she prayed in our class, it reminded me of how sweet and sincere she is before the Lord. Preacher's daughter, a PK. She enjoys serving. The Lord and others. 

 

A recent throwback example: The other day, on one of our cool mornings, she put together a simple breakfast. Simple. Oatmeal cooked the old-fashioned way. Homemade biscuits, buttered—some call them cat-head biscuits. Bacon. Ice-cold milk.

 

Before I prayed, I looked at what we had to eat, and I could see Granny Mac standing at her stove. They didn’t call it an oven and stovetop. It was her stove. I could see my mom and my mother-in-law. Then, lo and behold, right there before me was the wife of my youth.

 

I was almost moved to tears as I thought about how blessed I have been to have her beside me all these years. She has the Proverbs 31 description covered. Quite frankly, she is one of a kind to me. She loves the Lord. She loves her family. She loves people, and people love her.

 

She is a gift given to me by God. She is. She really is. In so many ways, He has used her to help me along this journey called life. She has helped me so much. She really has.

 

This was on my mind, so I thought I should share it. Now you know. May God bless us as we continue our journey together. Amen.

"Getting old is like climbing a mountain; you get a little out of breath, but the view is much better!" – Ingrid Bergman

Why am I tired? Good question. Being a blogger, I decided on this Friday, October 23, 2026, to investigate some possible reasons. Here’s what I found about the mileage a person might accumulate over 80 years:

 

Depending on work, travel, and daily activities, estimates suggest a person may meet anywhere from 10,000 to 80,000 people and see millions of faces. Then there are these estimated lifetime totals:

 

• Heartbeats: Around 2.92 billion, averaging 100,000 a day.

• Breaths: Around 672 million, averaging 23,000 a day.

• Blinks: Around 420 million.

• Sleep: Roughly 26.6 years, assuming eight hours a night.

• Walking distance: About 55,100 miles, or roughly twice around the Earth.

   

Even if I’m on the low end of those estimates—and even if I haven’t averaged eight hours of sleep each night—there’s enough here to explain my tiredness. I’ve been busy. I have. I really have.

 

However, according to the live-in expert who has shared life with me for nearly 62 years, I am more lazy than tired. Naturally, I wanted to understand her reasoning, so I looked up the difference between the two. The explanation went something like this: "Laziness is a lack of desire or willingness to do a task despite having the physical and mental energy to do it. Tiredness is a depletion of energy from exertion, lack of sleep, or burnout. You want to act, but your body or brain can’t keep up."

 

Given that information, I am officially updating my condition to: Malaise! Ha. (Look it up.)

 

The old saying, “You might as well laugh as cry,” has been around for a long time. In fact, the idea of using laughter to counter sadness goes back thousands of years. Here on my blog, I typically come down on the side of laughter.

 

Jesus referred to Solomon’s wisdom in Luke 11:31, and Solomon reminded us in Ecclesiastes Chapter 3 that there is “a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” We all know that. I enjoy a good laugh. What say you? I also know, especially at my age, how to shed a few tears. (Solomon most likely didn't know the Baptists would be reading his text when he wrote 'a time to dance'.)

 

My point? I write about serious matters, including our need to be made right with God before we die. I also write with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, hoping to bring a smile. Sometimes I write downright silly stuff. But I never, ever intend to criticize or belittle anyone dealing with difficulties in their life. That’s not my heart.

 

Our pastor, Dr. Jerry Chaddick—Brother Jerry—likes to say, “Hear what I’m saying, not what I’m not saying.” Don’t read too much into the stuff I throw onto the electronic page. I’m not that deep. Mark Twain put it this way: “Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.”

 

Okay. Enough about all of that. I feel a nap coming on. You know. It’s treatment for my malaise. Ha.

 

We wrap up this week tomorrow, and, Lord providing, we get to begin the first day of next week by gathering with our local Church to hear from Almighty God. Amen.

"A puppy treated every puddle as a universe and every passerby as a potential best friend." ~ copied

One of the things I did when our Sir Bentley Barksalot, Esq., was with us was take a huge number of photos of that precious, affectionate little pup. He developed an incurable liver ailment, and we had to say goodbye after just five years. Very few days pass without one of his photos popping up as a memory. He was my first real pet, and I still have trouble grasping just how deeply I cared for him.

 

Seeing so many of his photos is “sweet-bitter.” That's right. Not bittersweet. It's always sweet first when we think about him. Then comes the bitter. How could you not love a face like that? Okay. That was on my mind, and now you know, on this Thursday, October 22, 2026.

 

Our Lil Miss Biscuit may have been an impulsive addition to the family, made in the hope of helping me cope with losing Bentley, but she has earned her place in our hearts, especially mine. She's currently asleep behind me in the typing chair. I can feel her little body giving my back the heating-pad treatment.

 

The late Andy Rooney made a lot of sense when he said, “The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.” Our pups have always been overwhelmingly happy to see people and generous with their affection. The great writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, of Sherlock Holmes fame, made this observation: “A dog reflects the family life. Whoever saw a frisky dog in a gloomy family, or a sad dog in a happy one? Snarling people have snarling dogs, dangerous people have dangerous ones.”

 

Think about that one. Okay? Enough for now about our canine adventures.

 

A preacher acquaintance posted this photo, and it struck me as thought-provoking. What say you? That cross in the mirror confronts men, women, boys, and girls with the truth of the Gospel. It immediately reminds me of what the Apostle Paul declared in his letter to the local assembly meeting in Corinth, Greece (1 Corinthians 15:1–11, as rendered in modern English in the Oremus Bible Browser):

 

“Now I should remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you—unless you have come to believe in vain.

 

“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to someone untimely born, he appeared also to me.

 

“For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace towards me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. Whether then it was I or they, so we proclaim and so you have come to believe.”

 

That truth may be closer to someone today than they realize, just like the objects in that mirror. My prayer is that anyone who has yet to trust Him will seek the One who died for us all. Do it now. Amen.

"Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young." – Henry Ford

Hello and welcome. Today is Wednesday, October 21, 2026, and I thank God for the means and opportunity to visit with you.

 

I can tell you this: What's up with the wobbly, weak legs when I first wake up? You know what I first thought? Hey! You are acting like an old man! That was a shocking thought. But alas, it comes with the territory. I share with you this explanation from Google's artificial intelligence utility: “An 80-year-old man experiencing weak and wobbly legs upon waking in the morning can be due to natural age-related changes, underlying medical conditions, or medication effects.” I plead guilty to all those listed—and maybe a few more. Ha!

 

Isn't it funny how one has to be reminded that what we're experiencing often has to do with acting our own age? The graphic represents exactly how this transition is playing out in my life. I don't even consider my age until it considers me. If you can't laugh at how this is playing out, I can't help you. Think about it. All those age-related jokes from years past have now become autobiographical. Did you hear the one about the old guy who . . . ? I confess, that was much funnier twenty years ago than it is today.

 

But I do amuse myself as I deal with this new condition called oldness. Let me set the record straight. When I first wake up, I may wobble and weeble momentarily, but thank God it's only momentary at this time. Hallelujah and Amen!

 

I continue to read many obituaries. That's been a long-term habit of mine. Let me make it clear again: I am not looking to read my own. I enjoy reading about how people made a difference during their time here.

 

One trend I notice brings some sadness: the absence of any mention of things done for the Kingdom. I'm not saying it's a universal problem, nor does an obituary tell a person's whole story. Still, far too many death notices contain no mention of a testimony of faith. So many folks are defined by their family, their working life, their hobbies, and their special interests.

 

I certainly don't support making something up about an individual as though that could secure them a place in heaven. That, too, is something many do. If they have not been born again (John, Chapter 3), nothing said before or after their time here will get them into God's heaven.

 

It is good for people to be remembered for their kindness, their respect for others, their charitable work, and their care for their family. The list could go on. But reading obituaries reminds us all that knowing Jesus as Lord and Savior is the single most important matter in life. Period. End of story.

 

We may say “rest in peace” all we want, but lasting peace comes only through Jesus the Christ. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Amen.

Deuteronomy 8: 6-13 ~ “So obey the commands of the Lord your God by walking in his ways and fearing him. For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land of flowing streams and pools of water, with fountains and springs that gush out in the valleys and hills. It is a land of wheat and barley; of grapevines, fig trees, and pomegranates; of olive oil and honey. It is a land where food is plentiful and nothing is lacking. It is a land where iron is as common as stone, and copper is abundant in the hills. When you have eaten your fill, be sure to praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. “But that is the time to be careful! Beware that in your plenty you do not forget the Lord your God and disobey his commands, regulations, and decrees that I am giving you today. For when you have become full and prosperous and have built fine homes to live in, and when your flocks and herds have become very large and your silver and gold have multiplied along with everything else, be careful!

Another day has dawned, and I thank God for it. What say you? Greetings from yours truly and my writing buddy, Lil Miss Biscuit, on this beautiful Tuesday, October 20, 2026. The keyboard sits directly in front of us, and yes, she does make it awkward to type my stories. However, I find a way, and she does seem to appreciate it.

 

Yesterday, I mentioned my maternal grandfather and his impact on my life. After the unexpected death of my dad in January 1954, my mom and us six kids moved from Port Arthur, Texas, to the little village of Hornbeck, Louisiana, where we moved in with Granny and Paw Paw Mac. I was seven at the time. From then until he passed from this life to the next in 1971, he poured into me, in his own direct and sometimes subtle way, much of what shapes how I see things today.

 

Yep. I worked my way up in the big company and was recognized for many achievements. Those experiences influenced me in many ways, but some of the choices I made along the way turned out to be wrong. The consequences were painful, and the hurt extended to others in my family. That is one of the serious dangers of riding what seems to be an unstoppable train of success. I began to read my own press clippings, and there came a day when I took credit for my achievements instead of thanking God for His provisions.

 

Through God’s mercy, grace, and intervention, my family and I recovered from the effects of my self-inflicted sense of self-importance. I’m not proud of those days, but I am thankful that God was there when I turned to Him. And He responded. I’ll never be like my grandad, but I can follow his example of faith because, when all is said and done, that’s what counts, for time and eternity. Amen.

 

We moved to the area where we now live in the spring of 1976, the year of America’s Bicentennial celebration. It dawned on me yesterday that we have lived in this same area for fifty years. As my doctor told me, and as I am often wont to say, “That, my friend, is a good long run.”

 

I’ve learned a few things along the way. Perhaps one of the most meaningful lessons has been learning to cultivate a thankful heart. Here is a song we can all learn to sing back to our great God. What tune? How about one of your own choosing? That’s how I do it. Ha!

 

Psalm 100
 

A thanksgiving psalm.

 

1) Shout out praises to the Lord, all the earth!

2) Worship the Lord with joy!
Enter his presence with joyful singing!

3) Acknowledge that the Lord is God!
He made us and we belong to him;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

4) Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise!
Give him thanks!
Praise his name!

5) For the Lord is good.
His loyal love endures,
and he is faithful through all generations.

 

That quotation comes from the New English Translation, or NET, which includes detailed translators’ notes. It’s available free to use on the internet; give it a try. I think you will find its attention to detail helpful.

 

Until next time, may God add His blessings. Amen.