The Grace of the Levelheaded
Abraham Lincoln declared Thanksgiving a national holiday in 1863, not during a time of prosperity, but in the bitter heart of the Civil War. Today, as we navigate a world that feels just as fractured and caustic, the challenge is to maintain a "seasoned" temperament that is slow to take offense and quick to offer grace. If you’re bracing yourself for a difficult conversation around the dinner table today, come read why living at peace "as far as it depends on you" is the most powerful way to honor the God who has already forgiven us so much.
Now, Wait Just a Minute
I sat in my pastor’s office thirty-five years ago and flatly told him I didn't have a single thing to be thankful for. I was blinded by a beat-up car and a bank account that couldn't cover a new pair of jeans for my kids, but he stopped me mid-sentence with five words that permanently realigned my heart. If you feel like life is coming up empty today, you might just need the same gentle interruption that changed everything for me.
The Eight-Cent Tragedy
I still remember the crushing disappointment of watching my eight-cent Eskimo Pie slide off a crooked stick and melt into the hot Texas concrete. We like to think we outgrow that kind of envy and loss, but as the years pass, the price tag just gets higher and the "shiny red cars" of life leave us just as hollow. If you find yourself stuck in a cycle of always wanting more, come read why a posture of gratitude is the only real cure for a lifetime of small tragedies.
All Our Needs
I stood on a deserted stretch of road by the Houston Ship Channel, staring through the glass at my keys hanging in the ignition of a locked car. Just as panic started to set in, I looked down and found a pristine wire coat hanger sitting in the gravel exactly between my shoes. It felt like a minor miracle, but it taught me a major lesson about how God’s quiet providence meets our needs before we even think to ask.
The Millionaire I Never Was
I was seventeen years old when a man in a sharp suit convinced me I’d be a millionaire by the time I hit thirty. I spent years chasing that low-hanging fruit, only to realize much later that falling short of that goal was one of God's greatest kindnesses to me. If you’ve ever felt like a failure for not reaching your youthful ambitions, come read why the "richest man in six counties" usually doesn't have a million dollars in the bank.
Faith in the Forecast
I’ve spent sixty-five years living in a place where the air conditioning often runs straight through Thanksgiving and "autumn" is merely a theoretical concept we hope for in the humidity. This annual ritual of scanning the horizon for a promised cold front has become a masterclass in the spiritual discipline of waiting for relief that hasn't arrived yet. It turns out that faith grows best in the delay, though I wouldn't mind if the theology of patience didn't require quite so much sweating.
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.