One of the Saturday morning cartoons I loved as a child was Mr. Magoo. Bumbling along from one self-created comical peril to the next, he always escaped, utterly oblivious to the disaster he narrowly avoided. Mr. Magoo's extreme near-sightedness and blissful ignorance generated countless hold-your-breath moments that left me wondering, "How . . .
Almost a month ago, we bought a "real" kitchen trashcan: The 13-gallon, stainless steel, foot pedal, removable insert kind. It is shiny, sleek, and has significantly more capacity than our previous receptacle.
Our former kitchen trashcan was actually a rescue: a salvaged base of a paper shredder that bit the dust years ago. And although . . .
A few months ago, I woke up in the middle of the night. Feeling particularly alert, I rolled over onto my back, folded my hands across my stomach, and just listened. In the beauty of that peaceful, dark stillness, the Lord gently said, "Son, you have settled."
As an internal processor, suddenly feeling vulnerable, it's incredible to me . . .
This summer, we've had a plethora of rabbits around our neighborhood. Nibbling on tufts of grass, settling deep into patches of clover, and devouring our petunias, the pointy-eared hares have thrived amidst the heat wave we have experienced.
Most mornings when I head out the front door to go to work, there is usually a rabbit or two . . .
A number of years ago, our daughter moved 3 hours away to take a job. She went through all the firsts that new employment entails keeping us posted with many phone calls and texts about her experiences. Along the way, we often joked about the challenges of "adulting" with a real job with real responsibilities.
However, as the days turned . . .
Recently, my Bluetooth portable speaker bit the dust. With the battery no longer holding a charge and the speaker making a horrible crackling sound when I plugged in the power cable, I made the decision to replace it. It has served me well over the years listening to Scripture and teaching as I get ready in the mornings.
Scouring Amazon, . . .
...new to me ...new to us
Over the last year, my wife and I have gotten spoiled by the convenience of online ordering and grocery pick up. However, when there were no open slots available over a recent weekend, we jokingly lamented our first-world problem and made a Saturday evening trek to Walmart.
After our shopping excursion, the sea of little white plastic . . .