A Con in a Can: The Relentless Chase for More
As kids, we thought a ham in a can looked glamorous—until we tried it and found it slimy and disappointing. That quick lesson stuck: packaging can lie. Casinos push the same fantasy—flashy lights promising big wins, but mostly draining pockets and hope. And real stories? Like the lottery winner who cursed his fortune instead of celebrating it, remind us that “more” doesn’t always mean better. Proverbs matters: wealth gained quickly seldom lasts. True gain grows slowly—and quietly holds meaning long after the shine has faded.
Breakfast Appetizers and Cheap Syrup
The waiter poured the tomato soup in a perfect 360-degree arc, while my wife’s fruit plate looked like a stack of Jenga blocks daring me to pull a piece. This level of culinary theater felt absurdly far from our early days of marriage, when "breakfast" meant cheap pancakes and "sauce" meant skillet gravy. It turns out that contentment isn't found in a side of Béarnaise sauce, but in the person sitting across from you while you try to figure out what to dip in it.
The Surprising Power of Small Gestures
Sometimes it’s the tiniest things that shift everything. A hand on the shoulder from a friend—nothing dramatic, just quiet support—stuck with me long after our conversation ended. That small moment taught me to notice more: the early-morning knock of room service, coffee steaming on a quiet cruise ship, the absurdity of two salt shakers meant only for decoration, and the lone cleaner greeting us in the dim hallway. Kindness isn't about grand moves—it’s about noticing, and acknowledging, the unseen. Little gestures thread grace into our ordinary, reminding us that small always matters.
Called Out of the Stands
Looking back at a photo of Kyle Field during the pandemic, I was reminded of how often ordinary people are called to extraordinary service. Teachers masked up, doctors worked endless shifts, and countless quiet acts of love carried us through uncertain days. Servanthood rarely looks heroic—it’s usually disguised as persistence, sacrifice, or care. I see it most clearly in Becky, whose tireless devotion in both small and large ways embodies what Jesus modeled when He washed His disciples’ feet. Gratitude isn’t only about receiving blessings—it’s about honoring the love and service that make them possible.
One Last Lesson Before You Go
The last day of school is loud with relief—teachers and students alike ready to bolt for the door. But for me, that walk to the car is never simple. Each year, I feel the pull of goodbye, knowing many students I’ve poured into will disappear from my life. What do you say in a yearbook line when what you really want is to hand them a compass? Over time, I’ve realized the best lesson isn’t clever advice—it’s reminding them that joy, courage, and kindness outlast possessions. That’s the message I’d stamp in every heart, if I could.
The Quiet Work of Rebuilding
A week after Hurricane Harvey upended our coastal world, I sat at a desk in a pale, quiet classroom, surrounded by an exhaustion that was heavier than the storm itself. We watched neighbors tear out ruined drywall and students return with nothing but borrowed clothes, proving that rebuilding always starts with clearing away the wreckage of the past. If you are waiting for a crisis before offering a hand, come read why the ordinary struggles of a neighbor or friend require that same "hurricane-grade" compassion every single day.
A Traitor in the Cereal Aisle
I walked into the grocery store and realized that old friends like Cap'n Crunch and Aunt Jemima were looking at me like I was Judas. My decision to go on a diet has turned the aisles into a gauntlet of judgment from the sugary icons I left behind. It turns out that even the produce section isn't safe when you have betrayed the high-carb alliance.
Liars, Cowards, Quitters & Me
The people in these pages are not stained-glass figures. They are not monuments to be admired from a careful distance. Many of them are liars. Some are cowards. A few simply quit. All of them were chosen and used by God anyway.
Liars, Cowards, Quitters & Me: God's Unlikely Recruits looks at twelve biblical lives that don't fit the flannel-board version — and pairs each one with a story from the author's own. The writing is honest, often funny, and never once preachy.
The Deluge and the Dream
I tried to outrun a torrential downpour to get to the terminal, but I ended up in a bathroom stall frantically wringing out my own shirt. My grand entrance involved sneakers that announced my arrival with a loud squish every time I took a step. It is a humbling way to start a vacation when you look like you just lost a fight with a car wash.