Anything Goes

coffee and words, almost.

running Saturday is a post-race exhale when the week behind you fades and time ahead hasn't yet awoken.  The past few weeks have been on blaze.  Days end and begin and blur by with a furious shuffle.  I can only go at life in this way for so long until things within begin to pull apart and break.  It's not healthy to live so fast.  It's unholy and unbecoming.

Last night was the push to the finish line of another week gone by too fast.  The push to end was well worth it.  For the first time we opened our home to host new friends.  As our family slumped low into the cushions on the couch worn tired and thin, we waited to play hosts.  Friends began to arrive in twos and threes and soon our home was filled with a crowd, no, a community of mixed faces and varying hearts.  We sat huddled discussing grace's undoing of moralism through the Gospel.  I faded in and out sharing my own struggles and experiences.  Our night together ended in confessions that opened our hearts vulnerably so that we could be found and kept.  And then I stretched my hand forward, reached for the finish line and breathed out relieved.  I knew the week was done and enough.  The group left except for two, a beautiful husband and wife who seem well fit to be good friends.  We greeted the morning together going further into each other's lives, as if the welcome wasn't enough - we began to feel at home.  Goodbyes were exchanged at 2am, and then, the bed never felt so good.  This is an exceptionally good Saturday morning.  Here's what poked around at with a cup of coffee.  I do hope you enjoy!

lent, going more than giving.

stars in the sky IN THE ABSENCE OF ME, I meet You more.  Small diminished pockets of my heart hold the glory of eternity in my forfeit – my giving, my dying and disappearing – when the heaps of spoil pulled close around my heart burn away in the heat of Your unturned love.  We meet on hallowed ground You’ve equaled, not of my giving or sacrifice trite and incomplete.  Even beyond a scandalous love, You bid me come to peace that I could never discover on my own.

Lent is just this – giving in response to God’s ultimate compassion.  This season delivers an invitation to all who might come and die within their hearts to all things crowding thought and affections, all owned things honoring and satisfying only the heart.  In simple words, lent is removing important stuff from our heart so that God’s love has more room to grow deep within us.

So it’s subtraction, but also addition.

What will you give up is but a whisper in comparison to, What will you add?

It is imperative to us both as parents that we teach our daughters the importance of why we do the things we do, not merely do these things because we do these things.  Celebrate traditions laced in meaning and those celebrations give way to life development.  Our daughters ask why and we tell them.  This does two things:  it informs our children about the meaning of what we do and it ensures that we know why it is we do what we do.  Just as stories are lifeless until you read them with meaning having immersed yourself into the emotion of the words, not only the form of them, routine behavior is also meaningless until we subscribe to its meaning and embrace it in heart.

A question constantly asked within my heart is, ‘how can I show my children the way?’  The answer that echoes in return is profound – ‘go the way.’




spring break pictorially.

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We took to the mountains; retreated into snow to forget for a moment and remember all that really matters, what we truly know.

Spring break in Colorado couldn't have come at a better time.  No infringing schedule or deadlines other than hiking times, a snow tubing appointment, restaurant reservations, movie times, late nights anticipated, later mornings, and of course, naps.

I'll let my words sink into the photographs and give way for them to tell the stories of our week together well lived.


One last thing, you know vacation is truly good when in the end a smile still stretches across well rested, satisfied faces.


"How will this be, since I am a virgin?"

“So Dad, uhh... if Mary was a virgin, you know, that means she never, umm, had s-e-x, how did she get pregnant?  I don’t get that.  How can that even happen?  Don’t you have to kinda have s-e-x to get pregnant?”

What confounded my little eight year old daughter is the same thought that alludes each of us and all human minds before and beyond: incarnation.

God, with us.

Christ for us, right there with us, invading sin diseased hearts in plain mystery.  Confounding and concluding, noel, an invitation to end and begin again forevermore.

My answer pointed all explicable responsibility back to the story itself.

“Well, it says that God just made it happen.  He created her body, just like yours, and if He could create her, God could obviously just make her conceive a child.  He did.”

And the angel answered her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.  And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren.  For nothing will be impossible with God."  And Mary said, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word." And the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:35-38)

“Okay. That makes sense,” as her eight year old head returned back to her pillow satisfied.




dreams are written.

“Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead." Louisa May Alcott


No dream haunting aspiration is a guarantee. Its reality is shaped. In the earning does the dream fade into reality.

And dreams are not pixie dust and floating fairies but days we bleed into existing because of effort, not necessarily perfected ...given.  We give of ourselves today to the future tomorrow and dreams transcend the sky, no longer too big and out of our grounded reach.

Discipline is the measure of dreams materialized.

...words drawn onto pages ...canvas stroked with brush ...hours in pursuit of solution

Some dream dreams that they don't currently belong in. The day and the dream must be pulled, merged together.  Discipline is the pulling.

Let’s be honest, discipline doesn’t naturally find us.  Or better stated, we don’t easily or naturally take to discipline.  But desire, that is an intrinsic emotion threaded into our heart and humanity.  The problem with desire in not having it, but having only it.  Desire shows you the way and points to identify the dream.  Discipline is the vehicle that actually gets you to where you want to go.  Desire without discipline is a mirage clearly visible to the eye but vanishing in the distant landscape.

Dreams unreachable, unreached for.

Just as I believe that everyone has a story (worth telling and needing to be told), I also believe that everyone has a dream waiting to be claimed and conquered.

That dream could be anything: raise a family, race a car, find a cure, write books, start a business, climb a mountain, find love, travel the world, lead a nation or father a son. Whatever it is, it is yours and as personal as you are to the world.

And the world needs you to live your dreams.

Why?  ...because there are too many people half alive floating through life pushed by desire unbridled by discipline.

Discipline is by far the greatest challenge on a daily basis in my life. I write words even when they’re not there capturing a little more each day the dream still too big to talk about seriously at times to friends who ask, “How’s your book coming along?”


I’m not writing a book.  I am writing a dream.