As I have said many times, this blog is supposed to be about “God, Love, Life and Lessons.” Today’s post is really about all 4 of those things.

July 29th came again this year – it is a date I would prefer to forget. My father went to be with the Lord on July 29, 2010. Despite the celebration of knowing he is saved, the memory of the day still brings sadness. It happens to all of us. For some of you that day has already come and gone. If that is you, it is good to spend time reflecting on your father and what he did for you. Mourning his loss is part of that process and you should never be afraid of showing emotion when you think of him. Yes, part of what I am doing with today’s post involves mourning my father and yes, it is ok to do that even though it has now been ten years. There are some of you who are still enjoying your father, watching him, listening to his stories, learning from him, modeling your life after his. There are others who might not have known your father, he was gone before you were old enough to understand what happened. If that is you, no matter how old you are, I encourage you find a mentor, someone you trust and admire, someone who can use their experience to help you navigate through life’s challenges.

Thinking back on it, I knew the day I would lose my dad was getting closer. He had been experiencing bouts with congestive heart failure and his cardiologist had told him that short of a miracle in the near future his heart would stop beating – it was worn out. My father was the ultimate role model for those of you who are husbands and fathers or aspire to be a husband and father. He loved my mother unconditionally and was a true servant husband. Please understand, my mother didn’t demand anything of him, he simply lived to love and take care of her. On the morning of July 29, 2010 he was doing exactly that. As he did every day he had risen before my mom, gone into their tiny kitchen to make coffee and prepare their breakfast. After she joined him and was seated at the table he served her breakfast, sat down in his chair, leaned over against the wall and was gone.

My Dad grew up in Iowa, the son of a tough German farmer. I never really got to know his father very well because my grandfather died when I was in fifth grade, after a lengthy battle with prostate cancer. I wish I could have known him better because judging by the man my father became, my grandfather must have been a really great man.

There are so many stories I could tell you about the kind of man my dad was. Stories about his perseverance, about his natural leadership abilities, about the way he cared for his family, about his sense of responsibility to his employer, about his love for good scotch whiskey, Nat King Cole and the game of golf. He was tough on my sister and me, but always very measured and very fair in the way he disciplined us. He was the same in the way he always encouraged us, using our screw ups to teach us invaluable life lessons. As he grew older he displayed a zeal for life that was infectious and impacted everyone who came into contact with him. He had his share of health issues but never made that a focus of conversation with anyone. Every once in a while he would comment about the fact that he was blind in his right eye, the result of a childhood accident with a small toy. The loss of vision kept him out of World War II, indirectly had to do with him meeting my mom, created a depth perception problem that frustrated him when he played golf and gave him one of the best ever tag lines.

Periodically I like to listen to podcasts while I am working out or out for a walk. One of the podcasts I really enjoy is produced by John Eldridge and “Ransomed Heart Ministries.” Some of you might have read one of his books entitled, “Wild at Heart.” If you haven’t read it I encourage you to get a copy and spend some time with it. On one recent show Eldridge and guest Morgan Snyder pointed out, “the heartache of the world is unfinished men.” In July of 1994 my father became a “finished man” when sitting next to me at a Promise Keepers conference held at Folsom Field in Boulder, Colorado he got on his knees and gave his life to Jesus.

Not all of us men are blessed to have a father like I had. I am not sure why God chooses some of us to have that experience while others have a less secure and more challenging experience. On the other hand I don’t know why some of us get to have a father like the one in the parable about the Prodigal Son. Much like my father loved me and my sister, the father in Luke 15:11-32 loved his son(s) unconditionally. If you haven’t read the story, it takes all of about 2 minutes and has many lessons about how we should act as men and fathers.

It really doesn’t matter if you are a father now, maybe you are a grandfather, or you are planning to be a father, the same truths apply to all of us. God wants us to be men of integrity. Men of faith and love. Men who accept responsibility and care for our loved ones. Men who are good custodians of the physical, mental and financial assets He in-trusts us with. Men who will not run away from challenges. Men who will put on His full armor when the enemy confronts us. Men who will do everything we can to bring up our children like my father did. Men who will love and nurture their wives. Men who when the time comes to go home to Jesus can look back on our lives and believe we did our best to use the unique gifts God instilled in us. Men who model our roles as fathers after the father of the universe.

My Dad was all of those men and more. Earlier I hinted that my Dad had one of the best tag lines ever. It was a tag line he earned and enjoyed and I think God probably gets a kick out of. You see, every time he would do or accomplish something he thought might be a little out of the ordinary or beyond his normal capacity he would wink with his good eye and pull out the tag line. And yes Dad, the life you lived, the example you set, the man of God you became was “not bad for a one eyed Dutchman from Iowa.” What will your tag line be? You still have time to create it.

I love you Pop and can’t wait to see you again.

Last week, Terrie and I decided to take a driving trip. It was really at her encouragement and she planned most of the trip. It had been many years since I had been to the southwest part of Colorado. Terrie had been there a couple of years ago with her hiking group (The Kept Women’s Hiking Society) and while there she discovered what might be her all-time favorite hike. She really wanted to me see “Ice Lake”, the destination of the hike so our four day adventure revolved around doing the hike.

The final destination of our trip was Durango, Colorado so we took off the morning of July 6th after deciding our drive would be a loop, taking the more central route to Durango on the way down and circling back north and east across the western slope on the way home. Keep in mind that Terrie is a native Coloradan and I have lived here 52 years. Neither of us had ever been to the town of Salida so we took the time to get off the main highway and drive into the town. We discovered a beautiful, well kept, historic place filled with ginger bread houses with manicured lawns and cozy porches. The downtown area was a small but well kept area containing mountaineering stores, coffee shops, restaurants and of course micro breweries. The locals we talked to were so pleasant and accommodating, obviously happy to have us there. On our way out of town we looked at each other with a clear understanding that we were sorry that we had missed out by not visiting Salida sooner.

Our next stops were in equally interesting and beautiful places. Lunch in Del Norte then over the beautiful Wolf Creek Pass and on to Pagosa Springs for a walk around the hot springs. From there it was a short 50 minute drive to Durango, our final destination for the day.

The next morning we were up early to have a quick breakfast and hit the road toward Silverton and the trailhead to Ice Lake, the real reason for the trip to begin with. Terrie knew the area would get crowded and parking might be an issue so she wanted to get there as early as possible. The drive to Silverton is spectacular, winding over the San Juan mountains. The vistas from some of the overlooks revealed vast, extraordinarily beautiful valleys and jagged, rugged mountain peaks and crests. At a few points the road skirts extreme fall offs, causing a little angst about getting too close to the edge (there are very few areas with guard rails). When we finally reached the parking lot for the trailhead we saw Terrie’s suspicions were right, the lot was almost full and there were hikers everywhere preparing to head up the trail to Ice Lake. The hike itself was one of the more difficult ones I have done with her. It is a 8.7 mile round trip and from the start climbs 3200 feet to a scene that cannot be described, it must be viewed first hand. Along the way we saw too many waterfalls to count, fields of amazing color created by blooms of early summer wildflowers including bundles of delicate Columbines. Knowing I might balk, Terrie never revealed the difficulty of the hike but she kept encouraging me as we climbed higher and higher toward the lake. She kept telling me I was about to have an “ah ha moment.” Boy was she right. Making the final push to the cirque holding the lake was fueled by her passion for what I was about to see.

When we left the parking lot the sky was clear and the temperature was climbing. When we reached the lake clouds were moving in, there was a steady breeze and it was at least 20 degrees cooler than down below. By the time we completed our climb to Island Lake, the next lake above Ice Lake, it was sleeting. We started our decent more out of concern for the weather than anything else. Total round trip, 5 1/2 hours but worth every step (I think my phone said there were about 22,000 of them.)

So this blog isn’t supposed to be a travel log and while I would love to tell you about the rest of what was a great trip I will resist boring you. This blog is supposed to be about my experiences, my journey, about God, Love, Life and Lessons. This blog is intended to share some of my journey in hopes it will help the readers avoid some of my mistakes or at the very least take some of the lessons I have learned along the way and build on them to make your own personal journey the best it can be. I don’t want you to “miss it” because for many years I did and the events of the past week made me realize how much I had missed. The best part is, the events of the past week also helped me celebrate the fact that I haven’t missed everything. I still have a chance to finish well and experience the life God intended for me. About right now you are probably thinking, oh boy, here comes the old stale lecture about stopping to smell the roses. Sorry, I am going to disappoint you again because I am not going to tell you to do that.

The past several weeks of living in a pandemic has taught me a lot and one of the most important lessons has come through watching Terrie. You see, she is not going to “miss it” because she is living within her God given talents and giftings. She is so good at being who God created her to be that it is recognized and embraced by her friends and certainly by me. Her life and relationship with her friends is her ministry and her firm belief is that no one should “miss it” – the opportunity to experience the joy she knows. The way Terrie lives her life is a great testimony to her faith and even her non-believing friends look to her when they run into a wall and decide it might be time find a little spiritual guidance.

I believe living a truly satisfying, rich life is a blending of many things. God creates each of us differently and instills us with gifts/talents and passions that are unique and amazing. The goal of our journey is to discover what our unique gifts and passions are and then blend them into an exuberant life experience that honors God and satisfies our soul. What I would like for you to learn from my experience is that for far too long I did “miss it” because I was looking the other way. I didn’t know, or maybe I should say I didn’t want to listen to what God was trying to tell me about the abundant life He planned for me. I was missing the Ice Lake hikes because I was determined to plan my own course and follow it. The result of my self-reliant stubbornness was I became moody, dissatisfied, and abusive. I wasn’t a good husband, father, son or friend because I was not working within the very specific, personal talents God gave me. I can also tell you, from my experience, discovering and working in your gifting is like making that final push to that cirque and seeing Ice Lake. It will be an exhilarating, satisfying, and comforting moment, filled with the realization that you now really have something to look forward to and that you are not going to “miss it.”

My encouragement to you? Don’t take the self-reliant, safe route thinking that is the best way to avoid “missing it.” Take the exciting, risky, exploratory route as you discover all the amazing things God has in store for you. It’s not easy and just like Terrie did with me, you might need someone to help guide you. Someone who will not scare you to death about the challenge but someone who has been there before and knows the difficulty of the climb. Someone who will continue to encourage you to not give up and turn away from the climb. Someone who does not want you to “miss it.” It is never too late to find your Ice Lake.

Most of you know my love for fast cars. I am not a “gear-head.” I know very little about how cars work. I can add windshield wiper fluid and maybe top off the oil but that is about the extent of my usefulness around a mechanics’ garage. All I really want to know about a car is that when I put my foot down on the accelerator there is going to be a furious burst of power. I want my head to snap back to the headrest. I want to feel a little careless – a little uncertain about my ability to control the power. My ego causes me to believe I can pass anyone else on the road and if pressed I won’t hesitate to put the hammer down and show you who is who.

Looking back on my life I might be able to guess where this “need for speed” comes from; it must be a reflection of the way I have done things since I was very young. In some ways I have lived a conundrum that started in first grade. My parents made the decision that I should skip kindergarten and go straight to first grade, even though I was only 5 years old. I didn’t really understand, until much later in life, the advantage I had because of their decision and in fact thought it was a disadvantage. Please understand, I am not playing the victim card here. I don’t blame my parents for anything, in fact all I have is appreciation for the way they raised me and influenced me. But, because of their decision to accelerate my schooling, I faced some challenges. I was smaller physically than most of my friends which of course impacted my participation in sports. When I reached high school my age caused issues with my peers because I was less mature, physically and mentally. When I started my college career at the ripe old age of 17 I was at a distinct disadvantage because legally I couldn’t go into a 3.2 bar and order a beer. Most of my buddies were 18 and had been legally going to 3.2 bars during their senior year in high school. Plus, do you think an 18 year old college girl wanted to date a 17 year old guy? Not a chance. Then when I graduated college at the age of 21 I was thrown into a job market where I was competing against other college graduates who were 22 or 23 years old. That might not sound like a big deal but for many of the companies I interviewed with it was a deal killer. They figured that because I was “only” 21 there was no way I could contribute to their success the way a 22 or 23 year old candidate would be able to. I can’t tell you how many times I heard, “well, we really like you but we just wish you were a little older and more mature.”

So how did I overcome this perceived disadvantage? Everything I did had to be done faster because I needed to accomplish more than my competition in the same amount of time. I convinced myself that would be the way to catch up and pass those in my way. I had my right foot all the way to the floorboard and couldn’t afford to let up. The result? It wasn’t good. I careened through life at breakneck speed, rarely looking back to see what I missed or who I ran over on the way. Most of the time the people I ran over were Terrie and my sons. Heck, the reality was, even though I wanted to believe I was running over the competition, we were all doing the same thing! Going as fast as we could; out of control, little regard for others, not much regard for ourselves, windows up, radio on full blast, right foot to the floor.

So you might be thinking I am going to say I finally figured out I needed to put the brakes on. Sorry, I am going to disappoint you because I never found that to be a real solution. In fact, every time I tried to do that all that happened was I became a bigger jerk to Terrie and my sons than I was when I was going flat out. I moved from self-indulgence to self-pity and blamed my circumstances on them. I had to put the brakes on because of them. I had to reset my agenda aside because of them. I fell behind the competition because of them. Wow, what a bunch of hogwash!

God never intended for us to be pansies. He wants us to be drivers on the pole position. He wants us to be guys who are willing to take the risk to pound on the accelerator but also look to him to know when to lift our foot. And when the back end breaks away and we head for the wall, God wants guys who can admit they hit the accelerator at the wrong time and then lien on him to help them do better the next time.

I don’t think God gave men a nature that allows us to completely decelerate. What we can and do need to do is learn how to feather our pressure on the accelerator pedal. Each of us has a “pace” that fits us because He created each of us to be wonderful and unique. It took me far too long to understand that. I actually had two great examples of what I am talking about, I was just too self-absorbed to realize it until it was almost too late. My father was the first example I should have looked at. Not only did he understand pace in his job, he was a master of pace in his marriage. The priority he placed on my sister and me but most importantly his relationship with my mother was extraordinary. He didn’t sit around thinking about how he would learn the nuances of acceleration and pace. He knew there had to be a balance between his pace on the job and his pace at home. He knew how to feather the throttle. Terrie has always known what her pace is and has trusted the ideal pace God instilled her with. That is one of the factors that has made her such a great mother to our sons, wife to me and friend to so many people. She paces herself and doesn’t get out in front of God. Had I understood my God given pace at a younger age things would have been much easier and certainly more joyful. In Jeremiah 29:11 God lays this all out when he says, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” God knows exactly where our foot should be on that right pedal. He also knows when to turn on the check engine light; the problem is we usually ignore it. It has taken me a long time to get to a place where I have a pretty good idea when He is telling me to take my foot off the gas and pull over to the side of the road, there are problems ahead. Without all that engine and road noise I have a much better chance of hearing what He is trying to tell me.

One final thought. Finding God’s pace for your life isn’t like Nascar putting a restricter plate on an engine. It isn’t intended to make you like everyone else. Neither will it put you at a disadvantage. In fact it will do just the opposite. It will give you freedom to be who you were created to be. It will give you the courage to pound on the accelerator when the time is right.

OK guys, I hope this all makes sense. I’m going out for a drive now. I just figured out how to turn on the sport exhaust in my car. I can’t wait to hammer the accelerator and hear that sound!

Yesterday was the annual celebration of Mother’s Day. Surely it is another of those days that was cooked up by the Hallmark company to sell greeting cards. The fact is the day has it’s origins back in 1870 when Julia Ward Howe (writer of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”) started the idea of a Mother’s Peace Day. It was all about eradicating war. In 1907, a lady from Philadelphia named Anna Jarvis began a campaign to have “Mother’s Day” officially recognized and President Woodrow Wilson did just that in 1914. So much for my greeting card sales theory. The reality is the way we celebrate Mother’s Day has changed a lot from the way it started and in my opinion it is appropriate that we now lavish moms with gifts and expressions of our love. For some of us our mothers deserve major awards just for getting us to adult hood with minimal catastrophes along the way!

This was the first Mother’s Day I observed without my mom. She went to be with The Lord and my dad last Halloween. My mother was the epitome of how we used to define a mother. Ginny Mae as my dad called her, could have been June Cleaver’s roll model (if you haven’t watched old clips of “Leave it to Beaver” please do so, it might do you some good). Today it is politically correct to believe mothers can work outside the home and still raise children effectively. That wasn’t the most popular thinking when I was growing up. My mom did work outside our home for a little while after she and my dad were forced to make a move to Albuquerque, New Mexico. They needed the extra cash and my maternal grandmother was there to lend a hand taking care of me and my sister. However, when my mother thought it was time for her to be home to be the mother God created her to be, she quit her job, we sucked it up a little as a family and she became a full-time mother. I was only around 4 years old but I can still remember how excited I was knowing she would always be home with us.

My mother was an amazing, loving, nurturing mother. She was always geared toward encouragement rather than admonishment. Even when my sister and I were being rotten little brats she never got too upset. She would not hesitate to discipline us but it was always in a way that got the point across without destroying our spirit and energy. I guess, in today’s terms, she was a helicopter parent but in the best way possible. She didn’t hover over us but she was always there whenever we needed her. She wasn’t in bondage to us, she simply loved us and wanted to be part of our lives. And still, she trusted my sister and me. She gave us freedom without letting the rope out so far we got in deep trouble. My mother loved the Lord with all her heart and it was reflected in the way she cared for us. She didn’t beat us over the head with the Bible, rather she exemplified her faith in how she treated us and my father. I guess I never realized how much she loved the Lord until after my father passed away and we cleaned out their apartment. I found daily devotionals, entries in her journals, Bible versus scribbled on pieces of paper and other things I never knew existed that were tied to her faith. My mom was a pretty simple person and didn’t require a lot. She was deeply in love with my dad and called him her “Captain.”

I really believe that men have an obligation to release their wives to be great mothers. Say what? I am saying a mother can’t be a great mother unless her husband releases her to be what she was born to be. My mother’s “Captain” did exactly that, he released her to be a great mother. He also set an admirable example for me to follow and thanks be to God I am married to a woman who is an awesome mother. Fortunately I see examples of men who do the same thing today; they release their wives from the worlds’ expectations and allow them to be great mothers. My daughter-in-law is a perfect example of that. My son has given her the freedom to shed the worlds’ modern definition of a wife and mother and to become a wonderful, loving, nurturing mother to my granddaughters. I couldn’t be more proud of him for doing that or more appreciative that she has heard Gods call and loves being a great mother to her daughters.

In Leviticus 19:3 God instructs us, “Every one of you shall revere your mother.” This past weekend was a chance for me to sit back and think about my mother – to really spend some time in reverence and appreciation for what she did for me.

Not everyone gets to have a mom like mine. I was truly blessed to have her for a long time, 96 years to be exact. I also had the distinct privilege of ministering to her during the last few years of her life. I will never forget the afternoons we sat together quietly in her room at Brookdale Lakewood Meridian and read the Bible together. I won’t forget her beautiful, loving, knowing smile. I miss her quick whit and the way she would kid me about certain things. I can still feel the gentle tap, tap, tap of her hand as she patted my hand while I read to her.

Love you Mom – Happy Mother’s Day

So many things have changed in the past month. Life as we knew it might never again be the same. I started making a list of my favorite annual events that have either been postponed or cancelled due to the virus. The Kentucky Derby, postponed until September. The Indy 500, might be run in August. No March Madness. The Masters, postponed until November? The Open, cancelled for 2020. The Stanley Cup playoffs, who knows when or even if? The Olympics, postponed until 2021, how can that be? The Olympics always happen in even numbered years. Concerts at Red Rocks, maybe mid-summer, maybe not at all this year. My list goes on and on.

My list however woke me up in a very important way. Take another look at the events I have listed – they are events that have become “absolutes” throughout my lifetime. Watching the limited coverage of the Masters golf tournament with my father was a right of spring. Then as coverage progressed it became a 4 day ritual, watching rebroadcasts of play on Thursday and Friday when I got home from work and then committing the entire weekend to watching the live coverage. It is still something I look forward to every year. I remember very clearly sitting by the radio every Memorial Day, listening to Chris Economaki broadcast the Indy 500 and then when ABC began television broadcasts of the race I would be glued to the tv screen from start to finish. I always looked forward to it and for me the race marked the beginning of summer. These days I tend to record the race on the DVR so I can speed watch it rather than spending the whole day in front of the tv but it is still an annual event that has a place on my calendar. Shoot, I’ll miss a round of golf before I would miss seeing the start of Indy. Back in the day, the Olympics were staged every four years with both the summer and winter games played in the same year. Again, watching the international athletes compete for bronze, silver and gold took priority over just about anything else going in life. Now it is an every other year happening, alternating between the winter and summer games. Terrie and I spend a good deal of time watching our favorite events during the two weeks the games are held. Again, according to my calendar, if it’s an even numbered year there will be Olympic competition.

Notice a pattern here? These were things in my life that had become “absolutes.) Now, in the span of roughly four short weeks, those absolutes have dissolved and if you are like me you are searching for new absolutes to take their place because you feel lost without them. We find comfort and attachment in absolutes. We rely on those absolutes to be scattered across our calendars to create time stamps that mark our progression through the seasons and through the year in general. So now I am looking for new absolutes and I get frustrated because this whole Covid 19 event seems to eliminate “absolutes.”

It is no coincidence that in the middle of the challenge we are facing the celebration of Easter will happen – just like it does every spring. Never to be cancelled, never to be rescheduled or postponed. Ahh, an “absolute!” A time stamp. A promise we can attach ourselves too. A promise that was issued by God over 2000 years ago and despite all the pandemics, wars, famines, droughts, sin, and other human caused debacles, the promise stands as true and absolute as it did at the beginning of time.

I am not going to go into an in-depth, theological discussion about what happened over the four days composing the event we now celebrate as Easter (includes Maundy Thursday). I am relatively sure you have heard the story of Easter just like you have heard the story of Christmas. What I do hope you will consider is the how the promise of Easter, shall we call it “the ultimate absolute,” “the one time stamp that can never be cancelled or rescheduled,” impacts you individually. It has taken me 66 years and living through the disruption of a pandemic to come to this realization.

I pray you will have a blessed Easter.

Everyone has their own perspective on the pandemic and its impact. A lot of people try to use some sort of benchmark to compare it against – WWI, WWII, the Spanish Flu in 1918, SARS in 2002, it goes on and on. We hear the term, “tyranny of comparison.” For whatever reason we always want something to compare our current circumstances against. A friend of mine would say it’s all about scoreboards and while he was referring to our need to measure our success on a scoreboard, even in crisis we rely on scoreboards to see how we are doing versus our friends and colleagues. I am not discounting the need to look back at historical events so we can learn how to improve our reaction to similar current events – that is an essential arrow in our quiver. However, it appears to me that in a lot of us there is a need to use the process of comparison to purposely raise our level of panic. We dwell on the negative and refuse to seek positives. We allow our minds to become hyper-focused on the impact of the “crisis” which effectively blocks our ability to complete rational activities. We also allow our minds to project our panic as if we can foretell the future, imagining things are only going to get worse and there is no way out.

So what can we do to dismiss the panic and restore our rational thinking? In 2 Timothy 1:7 the Bible says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” I have to continuously remind myself of this because when I don’t, my mind begins to wander and I lose focus. During the financial crisis in 2008/2009 I had to be “talked off the ledge” on multiple occasions. It was a prime example of allowing what I know intrinsically to be overridden by fear. I am trying to not be preachy here. I am simply trying to expose my own weakness and how we have a true enemy that will use events like we are now experiencing to distract us from what we know has and will always be true – God is still in control and he isn’t using this to punish us or separate himself from us.

Terrie and I have been looking for silver linings resulting from the dramatic changes we are seeing during the pandemic and there are many. I see parents and children spending time together, out riding bikes, taking walks together, playing outside together, eating meals together. Terrie believes God is using the pandemic as an opportunity to show us we need to calm down – to rethink our busy life styles, to refocus on the rich life He intended for us to live. I am hopeful some of the societal changes we are seeing will be long lived. Parents might actually realize they can experience a lot of joy through spending more time with their children. The lost traditional family structure that has been so important to the moral fiber of our country will rebound creating positive, healing ripples across a wide spectrum of our population. Maybe we will come to realize our obsession with watching sports for entertainment has diverted our attention from the real life riches God intended for us. Maybe we will figure out that our obsession with performers, entertainers and politicians is misplaced hero worship – the real heroes are our spouses, our children, our next door neighbors, our pastors, first responders and most importantly, Jesus.

It has taken most of my 66 years to get to a place where I understand how my tendency to follow the crowd into panic during times of uncertainty hurt my wife, my sons, my employees and my friends. In Deuteronomy 33:12 Moses declares, “The beloved of the Lord dwells in safety. The High God surrounds him all day long and dwells between his shoulders.” My prayer for you is that you will dwell in that safety, that during this pandemic you will be the leader God created you to be, and that we will all come out of this better men, husbands, fathers, bosses and friends.

Flatirons, the church Terrie and I attend in Colorado, started a new series yesterday entitled “Famous Last Words”. Part of the service schedule at Flatirons is to sort of warm up the congregation with a 2 minute audio/video presentation about the current series. The presentation for “Famous Last Words” included images of famous historical figures such as Martin Luther King Jr., Elvis Presley, Mary the mother of Jesus, and Abraham Lincoln, accompanied by one of their well-known quotations. Most of the quotations were poignant, a couple were humorous but all represent the importance of famous last words and the way they reflect on those historical icons.

All of this caused me to start thinking about my last words. Will they be important? Will they be quotable? Will they define my legacy? Will anyone write them down so they can be remembered? Will they glorify God and all he has done for me in this life? Or will my last words be hurtful? Will they reflect poorly on who family and friends think I am? Will those words disappointment my wife, my sons, my grandchildren and everyone else I have been close to? Will they disappoint God?

So what is the real dilemma? If we could plan what our last words will be as we pass from life here on earth to the life God has promised us in heaven I am sure we would all come up with something inspiring, something dramatic, a statement full of love and appreciation for those who supported us, a real academy awards type presentation! The problem is, we can’t plan our last words because we never know the exact moment in time when we might need to utter this amazing amalgamation of wisdom, love and thank yous we dream up. Only God knows when we will speak for the final time.

The point? We always need to be conscious of the potential lasting impact of our words. Thinking back on my life I cannot count the times my “famous last words” would have been devastating to Terrie, Brandon, Tyler, my parents, business partners or a close friend. There is an old children’s rhyme, one that I am sure you have heard and maybe even used from time to time. Its origins date back to 1830 and it goes like this, “sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.” What a lie! Words can cut like a knife and bruise like a fist. The real difference is, cuts and bruises heal – we can never take back the words we use. There were so many instances where the words I used with Terrie were mean, completely undeserved, calculated to cut or bruise to prove my machismo, or simply inconsiderate vomit resulting from my warped sense of self-worth. Are those the words I want to be my “famous last words?” I am so thankful God has again given me another chance.

Ben Foote, the teaching Pastor at Flatirons, referred to some of Christ’s last words, spoke as he hung on the cross for us. In Luke 23:34 the Bible tells us Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” What an amazing request from a man who was betrayed by one of his followers, judged guilty of made up crimes, pierced with nails, and hung on a wooden cross to die between two criminals. He asked the father of the universe to forgive his accusers and those who carried out the orders to kill him! Let that marinate for a little while.

My encouragement to you? Learn from my mistakes. Ignore the rhyme because the truth is words can always hurt someone. Think about the words you use and always remember they might be your “famous last words.”

I was sitting in Bible study this morning listening to the presenter talk about what the Bible has to say in Ephesians 1. There were 12 guys sitting around the table and the conversation moved toward the need for discipleship and how the church has failed to emphasize how critical discipleship is to the long term future of the church as an organization. In a way, discipleship is a transfer or passing on of knowledge in a way that results in a change or augmentation of perspective or ideological position on the part of an individual. That individual then becomes a disciple or follower of that ideology and in turn passes it on to someone else. It is not unlike what we do when we create an estate plan. An estate plan is an opportunity for someone to inherit our equity rather than allowing it to dissolve when we pass away.

Lately I have been giving a lot of thought to the importance of our need to pass on our equity – specifically spiritual equity. That is what Christ did with his disciples, he filled them with his spiritual equity. To take this concept further, discipling is an estate plan for our faith. To disciple someone is to pass on the equity we have in the ultimate asset, God’s grace. Both discipleship and estate planning create generational transfer of wealth, one worldly, one heavenly.

So let me circle back to the worldly subject of estate planning. I spent a good part of my life working to build equity in assets that would provide me with a comfortable lifestyle. Most of us do exactly the same thing, we spend the first half of our life gaining, the next quarter of our life using and the last quarter of our life lamenting our failure to do anything meaningful with the equity in the assets we spent the first half of our life trying to acquire. To top it all off many of us fail to construct any sort of estate plan to insure the equity we have built up gets passed on to the next generation. The result is our children and grandchildren are left to consider how wasteful and careless our lack of planning has been. They have watched us work to build up the equity in assets and then they will have to watch again as that equity and those assets get swallowed up as a result of our failure to plan for when we pass away. If you believe, as I do, that God has entrusted us with those assets then you should also believe that you need to be a good custodian of those assets. Being a good custodian doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy what you have acquired but it does mean you should not waste it. Failure to have an estate plan is wasteful. Failure to create an estate plan eliminates the opportunity for generational transfer of our wealth.

In the same vein, failure to pass on our spiritual equity is a lost opportunity to tell others about the estate plan God has offered to us. The reality is The Bible is all about God’s estate plan for us – Jesus. In Ephesians 1:11 it says, “in him we have obtained an inheritance having been predestined.” In Ephesians 1:13,14 Paul goes on to say, “In him you also, when you heard the word of truth (someone passed on their spiritual equity to you), the gospel of your salvation (the good news of God’s estate plan for you), and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance (again God’s estate plan for us) until we acquire possession of it the the praise of his glory.

The time is now – you are not too young or too old to formulate an estate plan. Do it for you, do it for your loved ones. Make sure there is an inheritance of your equity. Then turn you eyes to the inheritance God has promised you. If you haven’t already claimed that inheritance, find someone who can disciple you and transfer their spiritual equity to you. Oh, one more thing, there is no tax on your heavenly inheritance!

One thing we all discover is the older we get the faster things seem to go. This time of year a very common phrase is, “I can’t believe Christmas is here again.” When you are 5 years old it can’t get here quick enough. When you are 40 years old it seems like it happens every other month. I’m not going to talk about all the pressures of Christmas – we hear that all the time. I am going to talk about the pleasures of Christmas; pleasures that go beyond the beautiful lights, past all the wonderful food and warm toddies. Pleasures that supersede all the gifts under the tree, any office party you have ever attended or even that great ugly sweater you found this year. Sure, buying that really special gift, a gift you might have worked for all year, for your spouse or a special loved one is a pleasure but that isn’t what I am talking about.

For me, Christmas is a reminder. It is a reminder of things and people who made you who you are. For me, those people include the men who are reading this blog. Men who encourage me, men who help sustain me, men who I trust without reservation and men I have the pleasure of watching grow. For me, the older I get, the more I value our relationship and the way it is shaping my life. You guys are helping me finish well. You guys are a Christmas “reminder” for me – a Christmas reminder that cannot come around quick enough. Each of you is an instrumental part of God’s plan for me. In Ephesians 2:10 the Bible says, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” How exciting is that? Think about it – “which God prepared beforehand.” It is all part of his “Christmas plan.” Through the birth of his son, Christ Jesus, he made the plan for us to share life together and I am stoked about it.

I pray that this Christmas brings you and your loved ones new pleasures that during future Christmas seasons will be reminders of all the good things our God has provided us with. I love each one of you, cherish our time together and look forward to even more great things in 2020.

November 11, 2019

So, it’s October 27, 2019 and I am sitting at my desk on a snowy Sunday morning trying to motivate myself to get into my workout room. The Bronco game comes on at 11:00 but the thought of watching them isn’t much motivation these days. The past week has been difficult, my 96-year-old mother has been admitted to hospice care and last week was given a couple of days to a week to live. As of this morning she is still hanging in there. While most people look at times like these with sympathy and pity that is not the case here. We have been really blessed to have the opportunity to be with her during her last days on earth, not something everyone gets to have the privilege of doing.

My mom has been a follower of Jesus for most of her life and although I can’t tell you when she actually accepted Jesus into her heart, I did discover the depth of her faith shortly after my father died in 2010. She had moved to the skilled nursing facility where she still resides, so we needed to clean out her apartment and start getting rid of things she didn’t need. In the process we came across several old photographs of longtime friends and family members. Some of the old frames were in really bad condition so we started working on taking the photos out of the frames and to our surprise we discovered that most of them contained notes and Bible verses that mom had written and inserted behind the photo. These weren’t random thoughts or musings, they were tailored to each person in the photo. We also found multiple journals filled with daily entries, many of which included scriptural references tied to her journaling. I am not writing about this to talk specifically about her faith, although it is a model we could all follow, I am writing about this to tell you how much I didn’t know about my mother. I was 57 years old at the time and discovering how many things I didn’t know about this wonderful woman.

For the past several years I have had the honor of taking care of my mother’s affairs, again not something everyone gets to do. We have spent countless afternoons in her room talking about the past, reading scripture, sharing some dark chocolate (her favorite food) and simply watching TV quietly while enjoying the experience of being together. She would periodically reach out and grab my hand and tenderly rub it against her cheek, all the while with a sweet smile. St. Francis of Assisi coined the phrase, “Preach the Gospel always and when necessary use words.” My mother should be credited with the phrase, “love always and when necessary use words.” The staff at her nursing home loved my mother because of the ways she modeled that phrase. She wasn’t a woman of many words, nor was she someone who demanded a lot of their time. She showed them great appreciation through her smile and when she did speak, the kind words she had from them.

So, I know my blog is titled “God, Love, Life, Lessons.” I have shared a little about her faith in GOD and the way she displays her LOVE. The fact that she lived 96 years says a lot about her LIFE. That brings me to the LESSON this holds for all of us. I know this is going to sound like a cliche but please hear me out. At times like these we are told that it points out how we should enjoy every moment with people who are special to us because we never know when they might be gone. I have discovered where we miss the mark is, we fail to spend those moments really getting to know the person – deeply. I thought I knew my mom but there were so many incredible things I never knew about her until very late in her life. It’s not just our parents we don’t take time to know deeply, it’s our kids, our wives, our closest friends. Take time to listen. Take the time to ask questions. Take the time to write things down because I guarantee you won’t remember everything. Then take the time to read what you wrote and remind yourself why that parent, child, spouse or friend is so important to you.

I lost my mother on October 31st – Halloween – her father’s birthday. She was excited to see Jesus and my Dad. I am excited to see her again some-day.