Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

I love sports.  For those that know me, that’s not a surprise at all.  As tempting as it is to write about Tim Tebow (because there seems to be a huge void of writings on Tim Tebow … frankly, I’m worried that the guy might be underexposed, but what can ya do)  I figured most people would be more interested in a retired baseball they probably never heard of.

As big of a baseball fan that I am, I can honestly say I didn’t remember the brief career of Ben Petrick.  I just learned of him last week when reading ESPN the Magazine and their “Next” issue.  The main purpose of the “Next” issue is to highlight athletes they believe are going to be the next big stars in sports.  About 10 – 12 years ago, Petrick may have been a candidate for the “Next” issue, but not today.

Petrick was a star high school baseball player and football player.  In his senior year, he scored 24 touchdowns on his way to leading his team to the Oregon state high school football title.  That same year he was also named Oregon’s baseball player of the year.  He was so good in football, that many pro baseball teams – fearful he might go to Arizona State to play football – passed on him in the first round.  The Colorado Rockies would draft him in the second round, with the Rockies GM saying his talent had “no ceiling”.

He was called a “5-tool player” – meaning he excelled at all 5 phases of the game (hit for power, hit for a high batting average, field, run and throw).  His main position of catcher is usually associated with someone slow of foot, but Petrick was such a tremendous athlete he could also play centerfield (arguably a position best suited for someone fast).

When he finally made the big league team, Petrick would not disappoint.  Called up at the end of the season from the minors, in 19 games, he’d hit 4 home runs and bat .323.  If you don’t know baseball – those are great numbers.

So you might be surprised that his career only lasted 240 games over the course of about 5 seasons in the big leagues.  His promising career wasn’t cut short by drugs or even by a knee injury.  It was Parkinson’s.

He discovered he had the disease just after his first full season with the Rockies.  He wouldn’t disclose it (not even to teammates and managers) until after he retired in 2004.  In between, Petrick would take medication to control the spasms in his hands and legs.  After awhile, Parkinsons took it’s toll on Petrick’s performance.  The Rockies would trade him to the Detroit Tigers, where he only played 43 games before being released.  After a short minor-league stint with the San Diego Padres organization, Petrick would call it quits.

You hear his story and it’s quick to think that it just seems unfair for a person, so young, to have a promising career taken away. Petrick would say the initial disappointment would shake him.  He would say that he left Portland as high school superstar and the envy of people; he returned as a man in his mid-twenties pitied by people.

It’s natural to have a deep sense of loss – even fear – when something is taken away from you.  When you can no longer do the things that you love.  When you can no longer do the thing that defined you.  You can let your trials and difficulties now define you.  And Petrick did.

And that’s not always bad if you don’t let it keep you from moving forward and finding purpose in that pain.  And Petrick did.

In the years right after his retirement, Petrick got married to his high school sweetheart (who he initially thought wouldn’t be interested in marrying him given his Parkinson’s).  Become a dad. He’s helped with his old high school football and baseball teams.  He writes a blog called Faith in the Game (with a book on the way).  And he’s become active in Parkinson’s causes.

Petrick puts it well when he says, “Each day I get a little stronger about being weaker.”

And with that, Petrick is poised to be the Next superstar in a much bigger place than a baseball field.

 

Happy New Year!  I’ve never been one for New Year resolutions.  Not that I have anything against them or have had issues keeping them – I just haven’t done them much.  Over the last couple of years I’ve done the “one word”-thing – where one word represents a particular focus you have for the year.  I’ll probably do that again this year, too.

That’s not to say there are not some things I want to accomplish this year. On the contrary, there are a number of things I’d like to do this year.  So instead of presenting it like a “resolution” – I thought I would make a 2012 “to-do” list.  I feel like I generally do well with to-do lists, so here it goes …

- Blog three times a week

- Run two 5K’s

- Go on more dates with my wife – about 4-6 of them

- Eat healthier, including some sort of green vegetable somewhat regularly (that’s for you, mom)

- More quality time with my son Evan – and quality for Evan involves quantity

- Lower my cholesterol

- Be more focused in my spiritual life (I know that’s vague, but it makes sense to me)

- Become “handier” learn or teach myself on how to build or fix at least a handful of things

- Dub all our old video camera tapes on DVD and/or hard drive

- Do some sort of family mission or outreach trip together (could be local)

- Go on 3-4 dates with my daughter Olivia

- Be more selfless

- Read 4 books

- Save money

- Give more

 

… that’s a good start.  I plan on making a copy of this blog and schedule it to post sometime in June, to give me a mid-year check and to have an additional copy of this post to go live on 12/30/12 to see how I did this year.

 

It must be a subconscious reflex this time of year, but the other day I found myself beginning a sentence by saying, “‘Tis the season …” As I was saying that, it hit me that ‘Tis the season to say, “‘Tis the season.”

I mean, I never found myself in July saying, “‘Tis the season for fireworks”.  Or in February saying, “‘Tis the season for  groundhogs to see their shadows.”

I’m not sure, but I think “‘Tis” is just a fancy way of saying “It’s”, right?  You might want to try throwing in a ‘Tis every once in a while to impress someone.  Add “season” in there, too, instead of saying “time.”  Something like …

‘Tis the season to eat some curly fries.  Or ‘Tis the season for a colonoscopy (which by the way, would make the world’s worst Christmas carol).

It got me thinking of how there are a number of things we say around Christmas that we rarely, if ever, say other times of the year …

Holly Jolly – as in, “have a holly jolly Christmas”.  Every once in a while, you may hear a fat, happy guy described as ‘jolly” outside of Christmas, but not too often – unless you are talking about Santa.  It’s like they came up with a nice way of telling Santa he’s chubby.  So I’m not really sure what “holly jolly” could mean, but I know it’s positive otherwise we wouldn’t wish someone to have a “holly jolly” Christmas.  After a football game, I’d love to hear a burly linebacker (a jolly linebacker, if you will) say, “That was holly jolly sack of the quarterback!”

Merry – Other than the phrase, “eat, drink and be merry”, we only say “merry” at Christmas time.  We don’t say “Merry Birthday” or “Merry New Year” or even “Merry Holidays”.  Everything else is “happy” – only Christmas is merry, apparently.

Hustle and Bustle – Other times of the year we are busy or life is hectic.  At Christmas time there is “hustle and bustle”.  I mean, it does make things sound so much more charming and festive to say, “hustle and bustle”, right?  Try this sentence for instance …

Remember to help the poor during the “hustle and bustle” of the holiday!

Or …

Remember – to help the poor during the insane free-for-all of maniacs fighting over parking spaces at the mall and leg wrestling a lady at Toys ‘R Us over a Barbie.

Hustle and bustle, right?  Not only does it economize words, but it also romanticizes your psychotic tendencies this time of year.  That’s a win-win.

So why does Christmas almost have its language?  I blame Christmas carols – which is really a topic for another day.

In the meantime, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the season have yourself a merry, little, holly jolly Christmas … ’tis the season, ya know.

Disclaimer – To be safe, if you under the age of 12 please don’t read this.  Or at least, get your parents permission first.  And you really shouldn’t be on the internet without your parents permission anyway.  And don’t do drugs and stay in school.

“I just want you to tell me the truth!”

“Mom – just tell me the truth!”

“I know he’s not real … just tell me.”

These were just a few things my son Evan said to my wife Julie the other night.  More like passionately pleaded to my wife Julie.  She said he almost had tears in his eyes.

Within the Christian community, I know there are some people who are anti-Santa.  After all, you play Scrabble with his name and you get “Satan”.  And most axe-murderers will tell you that their path to destruction all started because they were led to believe in Santa.

As you can probably tell, I’m not in the anti-Santa crowd.  But I do respect those who choose not to include St. Nick in their celebrations.  And my point in this blog is to not debate or sway you one or other, anyway.  My point is that I grew up with Santa, Julie did, too.  We haven’t had a faith crisis as a result of believing in Santa.  We never had trust issues with our parents because they “lied” to us about the fat guy in the red suit and white beard.  Again, that’s an argument someone else can have.

At some point you stop believing.  I honestly can’t remember when or how this happened with me.  I know it was relatively early in my life – maybe 2nd or 3rd grade?  But it obviously was not traumatic, because I have no emotional scars.  I’ve heard stories from other people that learning that Santa and the reindeer don’t actually bring the presents was a very difficult thing.

With both our kids, we always knew that with each year it could be the last year for Santa.  If you’ve done the Santa thing – you know it’s fun.  What’s not to love about lying to your kids and deceiving ‘em?  Am I right or am I right?  (that was sarcasm, by the way).

Evan is 11.  For the last few years we kind of figured he “knew”, but was playing along.  He’s asked questions for a few years now.  Usually, Julie was the lucky one to be on the receiving end of those questions.  To add a a degree of difficulty to the questions, he would ask in front of his younger sister – who couldn’t believe more in Santa if she were an elf!

His interrogation of Julie the other night was the latest inquisition.  In the past, Julie would typically reply to him, “Well, what do you think?”  He typically said he thought he was real or he wasn’t sure, but he rarely pushed it.

The other night was different.  Julie said there was an urgency.  She said it was his direct request to know “the truth” that killed her.  With Olivia present, she said that they could talk about it another time.  But in Julie’s eyes and heart – it was time.

That’s where Dad came in, AKA – “Santa Killer”.  When I got home from work, Julie said, “You have to tell him.  He was drilling me with questions last night in front of Olivia.  When he gets home from school, you should tell him.”

Given that he is 11.  Given that I’m sure the majority of his classmates “don’t believe”.  Given his line of questions, I figured there might be some disappointment, but mostly a shrug of his shoulders, like – “I kind of figured.”

What happened?  Well, it was like I killed Santa.  It hurt and it hurt bad!!!!

“I really didn’t want to know!!”

“So he’s not real?”

“That was my favorite part of Christmas!”

“I’ve ruined Christmas!  I wish I wasn’t so curious!”

For a few hours (yes, hours) there was some mourning.  There was crying.  There was a sense of loss.  And if I could’ve taken it all back, I would have.  It was heartbreaking.

Like a lot of things in life – we know, but we really don’t want to know.  We thought he wanted confirmation that Santa wasn’t real; instead he wanted reassurance that he was.  Because if we told him Santa was real, it was okay for him to still believe and enjoy the magic of Santa.

Because Santa is fun.  There is something fun about the fairytale aspect to it.  It’s fun for kids, but it’s fun for parents too.  And so that’s why we also dreaded the day of no more Santa.  That’s why there was a sense of loss for us, too.  We know it’s just a matter of time before Olivia joins this club, too.

But here’s the cool thing Santa-haters … it did also provide an opportunity.  Julie, the brains of the operation, swooped in when I was at a loss for words and reminded Evan – that Santa and Christmas trees and presents and reindeer are all fun, but Christmas has been and always will be about Jesus.  That will never change.  And we just don’t celebrate Him for a day or for a season.

So the other “stuff” of Christmas is fun.  And yes, it can get out of balance or distract us.  But the reality is we do things everyday that have the potential to get us out of balance or distract us – it doesn’t necessarily make those things bad. Birthday parties, movies, TV shows, people, work … everything … can take our focus off of Christ, but chances are you’ll still do those things.  And that’s okay, unless they do take you some place you shouldn’t be.

As corny as it sounds, we really do need to “celebrate” Jesus everyday of our lives

Side-note for anyone who will ever have the “Santa talk” – having this kind of conversation is kind of like breaking up with someone.  You really should prepare for anything.  Will they take it well and be fine with just being friends?  Or will they go completely psycho on you?  You should be ready for both … just in case.  Um, yeah.  We thought a shrug … it was more like weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Oh … and think timing, too.  I’m guessing this would have been an easier and better conversation if this happened on December 26th … or July 26th … or if someone else told him.  You know, hear it on the streets.  That’s what I’m planning on when it comes to the “birds and bees” conversation.  I’m kidding.  That actually might be an easier conversation, though.

Tonsils.  I’m still totally not sure what they look like and what they do.  I know that people have them removed from time to time.  Sad to say, but I think my first introduction to them was through the Brady Bunch. Sad for a couple of reasons. One – that I remember that.  Two – that this is the second Brady Bunch reference I’ve made in my last few blogs.

Back in the late nineties I had tonsilitis.  I was working for a country music station at the time and missed a week’s worth of work, because I was in such pain.  The funny thing is, as time moved on I actually thought I had my tonsils removed during that time.

Fast forward to a little less than a year ago, when I dealt with severe throat pain for about 6 weeks.  At first I was told I had strep throat, but after going through two rounds of antibiotics and still having pain, the two doctors I saw were dumbfounded as to why my throat was still hurting.  Considering that I talk for a living, I was a tad concerned, so I went to a specialist.

Within moments, he deduced the issue was my tonsils.  He said they were so big they were almost touching – which if I really understood the whole tonsil thing, I’d have a better idea what that means.  But it was alarming, to say the least – especially since I said to the doctor, “that’s impossible – I had my tonsils removed.”  And then he laughed at me hard.

The doc hopped me up on some super, duper medication and the pain went away without me needing them removed.  But I know the pain associated with big tonsils.  I don’t know if that’s something you can pass along to your kids.  My son Evan has my wife’s eyes and my tonsils.  Evan seems to get strep throat 2-3 times a year – maybe more, so the decision was made to remove his tonsils.

Evan now knows the pain that is associated with having big tonsils removed!  The excitement of being out of school for more than a week and eating ice cream, quickly dissipated to the reality of pain associated with surgery.  Like most of us, when you are dealing with that kind of recovery, there’s part of you that wonders if you’ll ever feel better.

The first couple of days he didn’t each much and slept a lot.  He would take baths because it comforted him.

Today, I think he’s beginning the road to feeling better.  I came home to find him in the tub … eating … Arby’s.  Yep, he was in the bath tub drinking a shake and had a plate with a roast beef sandwich and curly fries.

I don’t know if the doctor specifically said so, but I have to think that’s a good sign.  Like there are varying levels of recovery -

Stage 1) Ice cream on the couch

Stage 2) Popsicle in a chair

Stage 3) Roast beef sandwich in the bath tub

Stage 4) Donuts in the shower

Stage 5) Spaghetti in a bunk bed

Etc, etc.

If you are a doctor or if you write for some medical journal and would like to flesh this out, just let me know.  In the meantime, I’ll be finishing off this burrito on an ottoman … I’m recovering from a headache.

 

There would have been a time when I would have avoided reading about it, let alone writing about it.  It seemed the moment my first child was born, I could no longer stomach seeing or hearing any news story that involved something bad happening to children.  I would click off the TV or not click on an internet link from the mere mention of some child atrocity.

So on Monday morning, I’m not sure what possessed me to read an online article about the incredibly sad, incredibly infuriating and incredibly devastating news out of Penn State University.  I had seen enough passing headlines to know the general “scandal” – a former coach of the PSU football team had been accused of molesting children.  That’s what the headlines told me.

As read on, I found myself becoming angry.  And at the same time my heart sank thinking about these poor children.  Reading the graphic detail of what this monster Jerry Sandusky did to innocent, trusting, kids tore me apart.  I can’t imagine the fear and confusion they lived with at that time.  I can’t imagine the pain and anguish they have lived with since.  I would imagine it’s pretty much impossible to live a “normal” life after that?

What took this heartbreaking story to another level was the fact that other adults became aware of this situation and essentially did nothing.  A graduate assistant actually witnessed it.  Legendary Penn State football coach Joe Paterno was made aware of it and all he did was pass it along to his boss.  None of them called the police.  None of them confronted Sandusky.

Sandusky’s (alleged) deplorable behavior wasn’t relegated to this one isolated incident.  There are reports that as many as 20 – possibly more – were sexually molested by him.  Many of them after the incident first witnessed by the grad assistant.

My first thoughts were that I was reading something wrong.  How could someone witness and be aware of such a vile thing involving a child and essentially do nothing?

I’ve read many people say that it would be impossible for them to see or know of such a thing without wanting to literally kill Sandusky.  I have children around the same age that Sandusky violated.  The thought of someone even doing something remotely close to what he did to my children, invokes homicidal feelings in me, as well.

Joe Paterno is the winningest coach in college football history.  In fact he won his record 409th game just a couple of weeks ago. He’s coached Penn State since the 1960′s and his reputation has been stellar as both a coach and leader of men.  His program has been lauded for doing things the right way and has escaped the pitfalls that have hit pretty much every major college sports powerhouse.

Yet, how could someone who seems like such a “good guy” basically turn his back on helping a child?  How could he go about working, living normally, regularly interacting with Sandusky without ever confronting him.  Without ever calling the police?  It’s been noted that Paterno fulfilled his minimal “legal” obligation by telling the police, but he failed colossally (with devastating consequences) by not fulfilling his moral obligation.

And that’s where I got even more frustrated.  Sandusky’s behavior is unquestionably deplorable.  Paterno and the other’s lack of action is a different form of awful behavior.  Because it’s one thing in the heat of the moment or the pressure of a situation, to make the wrong decision.  It’s another thing, to look the other way, to ignore it and to worry more about your football program’s reputation than to worry about ruining the life of a child.  To say silent for basically a decade.

So when Paterno initially said he didn’t know all the details (if you’ve read what he said he did know, you would want to scream “You knew enough!!!), it was an attempt to cover his butt – just like fulfilling his legal obligation of telling his boss.  I don’t know if it was ignorance, arrogance or cowardice that led Paterno and the others at the school to do nothing?

I was asked about this situation at work and my response was this – now that we know what we know.  Now that we are here.  Now that we can’t take back what was done to those children.  We can’t erase from their minds the horror they endured.  We can’t restore their innocence.  I just want those who did nothing to “man up” and just say, “I was wrong.”  Say, “I worried about my own reputation, about winning football games, about my school’s reputation, more than I did about protecting children.”  That, “What I did was inexcusable and wrong, but today I want to do the right thing.”

It’s sad that Penn State’s president and Paterno never owned their part in this horrifying situation.  They either studio in silence, minimized their role or stood behind legal mumbo-jumbo.  Paterno had the gall to try to go out on his terms saying he would retire at the end of the season.  Penn State’s Board of Trustees finally did the right thing and fired both men last night.

They noted that athletics are not bigger than the school.  And in turn they essentially said, winning football games, protecting the image of their school or the reputation of their legendary coach, wasn’t more important than people … than children. They did the right thing.

 

I still have a full head of hair, but I’ve noticed a few gray hairs.

I take medication on a daily basis, but I don’t need one of those “days of the week” pill containers.

My body aches from doing work around the house, yet I’m arguably in the best shape I’ve been in 10-15 years.

On the other hand …

I haven’t started driving really slow with my right turn signal on forever.

I haven’t hiked my pants up past my belly button.

I haven’t started complaining about the “music the kids are listening to.”

I haven’t had to ask my children how to operate a computer, DVD player or video game system

On the other hand …

I don’t get the appeal of Jersey Shore or the Kardashians

I’ve never seen any of those Twilight movies

I’ve yet to wear black athletic socks with sandals

I’m not planking

Last year I turned 40.  Today I turned 41.  For whatever reason, I’m more conscious of my age on this birthday.  Maybe because I went from a station where I was of the younger people on staff, to a station where I’m one of the “older” people on the team.

That’s the thing – for the longest time, I always felt like I was always one of the “young people”.  Now it seems like I’m not one of them anymore.  Not that I don’t fit in.  Just somehow I passed over that line, where I’m on the other side of the young/old divide in most situations I’m in.

The other day someone said I looked like I could be 35.  I thanked them.  That’s now a compliment.

When did this happen?

They say (whoever they are) that age is just a number.  I used to think that was just something old people said.  Now, I kind of get that.  Yikes!

Just Relax

Posted: November 1, 2011 in Faith, Family, Health, Julie, Kids, Life, Work
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

How many times have you heard yourself saying a variation of the phrase, “When things slow down I’ll finally be able to (fill in the blank)”?

If you haven’t figured this out by now – and I apologize if I burst any bubbles here – things never slow down.  Oh, there may be variations of busyness, but typically we are all busy people.

We are not only busy, but we have a tendency to fill our time with more things than we used to, plus we have more things that can pre-occupy our time, too.

We live in a world so busy that we say things like, “I need to catch up on watching my favorite TV show.”  Think about that.  So busy that something that should be done for leisure, becomes a task to stay up on.  Even relaxing has become a bit of a chore and something to be squeezed in.

Kids don’t have a problem with this.  My son Evan seems to worry about how much he can play.  He talks about getting up early so he can play more.  He asks how much time we have before we have to go to church so that he can get in some playing.  The other day he was happy that his little league game ended earlier than expected, because now he could go home and play.  Apparently, the 3 hours of playing baseball got in the way of playing football with his friends.

While not at the frenetic playing pace of her brother, my daughter Olivia knows how to relax.  Last spring, she counted down the days until the end of school in anticipation to what she said was getting back to her “regular life.”  Not school.  ”Regular life” meant playing and relaxing.

Even our dog gets it – except it’s sleeping.  I believe he takes naps to recover from napping.  Often times, he looks plain exhausted and I wonder if laying around on the couch all day wore him out?

My wife is nothing like our dog (do I seriously know how to sweet talk my lady or what?).  Julie is forever busy.  I believe she feels guilty if she’s not busy and doing something productive.  The kind of person that is so busy and productive that you feel like you are a sloth in comparison.  I have to remind her that it’s okay for her to sit on the couch and do nothing.  That she has permission to relax.

Our schedules and lives can be consuming.  I mean, have you ever thought about your week ahead of you and started freaking out?  Kid’s activities, family obligations, work, church stuff, things that need to get done around the house, shopping, etc.  How many of you just had a minor panic attack at that list?

It can be overwhelming.  I get it.  Yet, the things that can help the most – sleeping, relaxing, playing – are the things we generally don’t have time for.

I can’t say I have a clear cut answer how to get there, because I’m in the same boat.

Maybe we can be more like kids.  Heck, maybe someday I’ll even compare you to my dog.

 

My mom is no Peter Brady.  There – I said it.  I know it hurts mom.  But when it comes to making a volcano that erupts, you still have work to do.  At the same time, we have to give you props for making the effort.  It’s better to make a non-erupting volcano, than no volcano at all … as the saying goes.

This past Saturday my daughter Olivia had her birthday party (she turns 9 on Wednesday).  She had a dinosaur-themed birthday party. There was little dinosaur decorations.  Dinosaurs on the cake.  A big inflatable dinosaur.  There were also fake mustaches for all the little girls to wear, naturally.

So with a dinosaur/mustache-themed birthday party, my mother decided to help kick the party up a notch by making a volcano.

Kids for years have channeled their inner-Peter Brady from the famous Brady Bunch and made a lava-erupting, oozing volcanos for school science projects. A thing that I love about my mom is that she always wants to make parties fun.  She always gets creative an add extra fun touches to family get-togethers.  Especially when it comes to her grand-children.

When watching our kids, she’s even thrown fun parties for the kids – like a Hawaiian-themed party or a Mexican fiesta. Sometimes mom’s ideas go over great; other times, not so much.  I remember when she snagged a still useable Dora the Explorer pinata out of her neighbor’s trash for Olivia’s 2nd birthday.  If you want to traumatize a 2-year-old girl, give kids a baseball bat and have them whack your child’s favorite cartoon character!

I usually laugh at my mom’s attempts. She usually does too.  You can hear my cackling in the video below.  My favorite parts – the little girls underwhelmed reaction to the volcano and my mom saying that this better not end up in one of my “cursed blogs”.Enjoy!

So my mom is no Peter Brady when it comes to volcanos.  That’s okay. Judging by the smile on Olivia’s face, I don’t think she cared. I’m thankful that she looks for attempts to make my life (and my kid’s life) fun.  I’m glad she tries.

Knowing my mom, she won’t stop trying.  And I won’t stop laughing … with her.

My church is doing something called “The Strong Journey”.  A number of churches across the country are also doing it now, too.  It’s a six-week series intended to strengthen your faith.  You may have guessed that from the “strong” part of “Strong Journey.”

In addition to the Sunday services and small group “Home Team” meetings during the week, you are given a set of challenges each week to do and then journal about them.  Today’s challenge – “Be Grateful”.  I was instructed to do the following:

“Make a list in your journal of at least ten things for which you are grateful.  Whether it’s a vintage motorcycle or your mom’s hugs, write a one-line thank-you note to God for each of these sweet blessings.”

Here’s what I wrote in my journal today …

1) Julie – I’m so grateful for my beautiful wife, who is my best friend.  You love and support me unconditionally.

2) Evan – Thank you for Evan and his passion for life.  And while we share many of the same interests, let me learn and be inspired by our differences.

3) Olivia – You are the apple of my eye.  Your smile and laugh light up my life.  I see so much of me in you and want nothing but the best for you.

4) My parents/family – I’m thankful for growing up in a home with so much love and joy.  I’m thankful for the continued support of my dreams.

5) My church – I’m thankful for finding a church I feel that I share the same DNA with.  That is filled with biblical truth and compassion.  That is inviting to everyone to “come as you are.”

6) My job – For God’s provision and the ability to work at a job that I love and with people who I love and respect.  And humbled by the opportunities God gives me each day.

7) My home – Blessed to have shelter and a lovely home to share with others.

8) Friends – People who bring me joy and who have been there for me on my hardest days.

9) Sports – For being such a fun diversion for me and something that I can share with friends and family.

10) Laughter/Silliness – I’m thankful for mindless, silly humor.

 

I’m sure others have done lists similar to this, but this is the first time I can recall truly writing these things down.  At first it sounded a bit like homework, but I was surprised at how easy it was for me to come up with these things.  That’s probably a good sign.

So what are you grateful for?  Whether it’s simple or big things, I encourage you to take a moment this week to jot down ten things you are grateful for. Often times its so easy to lean towards the negative, but this “homework” will give you an opportunity to reflect on how much you have to be thankful and grateful for … and I’m going to bet it’s more than just ten things, too.