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Ah! Those questions we’ve been asking forever, with no definitive answer. Finally, the answer.

  • Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean or dirty? – When in doubt, wash them again.
  • Does this make me look fat/slutty/ugly? – Fake a stroke.
  • Who peed on the seat? – Take one for the team and own up. You can take a beating better than the kid. Or, fake a stroke.
  • Do you want to go see <insert anyone’s name>’s new baby? – Fake a stroke. If you’ve seen one baby, you’ve seen 20.
  • Who ate my <insert name of food> for <insert name of function>? – Fake a stroke. Or, blame the kids. They get a better pass at this one. Besides, they owe you for the toilet seat deal.

Pretty much, faking a stroke works in most situations.

What other questions do you need responses for?


Jamie Nance. You left comment number six-hundred and sixty six on my blog.

You must be the devil. (Just kidding.)

Here’s the question of the day:

Do you get freaked out by the number 666? Why or why not?

I’m interested to know. I’ll tell you what I think, but you first.

(Thanks, Jamie, for being an unwilling participant.)

I had a unique thought the other morning. It was spurred by a post Craig Groeschel wrote about cultural relevance. It’s a good post, and at the end he asked a series of questions. The last one was:

Tell us about the last person you personally led to Christ.

Now, I understand the reasoning for this question, but it lead me to a different question:

Do WE really lead anyone to Christ?

I mean, we may have a part in it, and we may have been at the end-result of a decision-making process, but there were probably 100 other personal and impersonal interactions that helped lead that person to make a decision that day. BUT, did you really do anything besides reflect the love of Christ? Were you anything but scaffolding for God to build a foundation in someone’s life? Was it YOU standing at their heart’s door and knocking?

I say this not to discourage you or take anything away from your efforts of sharing Christ with others. On the contrary, it should encourage you to know it’s not your responsibility to save anyone, but you do have the opportunity (intentional or unintentional) to reflect Christ through your life.

It’s not a one-human show, but the entire body of believers pointing toward Christ.

I can imagine someone showing up in Heaven and telling Peter, “Hey, Michael told me to check you guys out.”

What are your thoughts?

Good Morning! I’ve had a few random things on my mind that I needed to share with everyone.

  • Banana pancakes (Inspired by Jack Johnson) taste better fresh on Sunday morning than stale on Monday. (But they make better Frisbees on Monday.)
  • Why are slip-n-slides shorter than they used to be? Smaller residential lots? Change in the coefficient of friction of skin to wet plastic? More sandspurs and acorns?
  • People who have their cars painted like Dale Earnhardt’s #3 Chevy Monte Carlo sponsored by Goodwrench Plus should be neutered drive faster than 40 MPH. (They do know he’s dead, right?)
  • Why do they make shoes for newborns? And why do said shoes have tread on the soles?

Whew! I feel better now.

Note: All questions are rhetorical, but feel free to respond.

I have a question to ask of you, my six loyal readers.

In a few weeks, I will be speaking at RPC on the importance of having a quiet time. (quiet, uninterrupted time where you read the Bible and pray)

In the interest of keeping it real and relevant, I want to address the reasons people struggle with having a quiet time.

Do you have a daily quiet time?

If you don’t, what are the reasons?

If you do, what distracts you from, or competes with, that time?

Please feel free to respond anonymously.

The day Cooper was born, I went to get the other two kids so they could meet him.

On the way through the parking lot, Josh asked the funniest question I ever heard.

“Daddy, what color is Cooper?”

Five-year-olds ask killer questions.

The other day Like two months ago I asked you, the reader, to provide questions or topics for me to blog on. This one’s been sitting around in my drafts folder just begging to be finished.

Emily Marion asked: So you’re expecting your third kiddo, what are you going to do differently? What have you learned from Josh and Riley that you want to implement into #3’s life? What is something you wish you would have known about being a parent, before you became a parent?

Good questions! Here goes.

  1. The thing I will try to do differently is spend more time with my wife. With Josh and Riley, I focused most of my attention on them. The most important thing I can do for all of my kids is to show them that I love and respect their mother.
  2. I have learned numerous things from Josh and Riley. a) Kids are tougher than they look. You can bonk their head on the door jamb when they’re asleep and they’ll live through it.(Kids are basically made of rubber for the first 4 years.) b) Also, I learned with boys that you have the new diaper ready before you remove the old diaper. Apparently air is the catalyst for urine discharge. c) Kids pick up EVERYTHING. Especially bad habits. And bad words. And they will repeat them in the most inopportune moments.
  3. I wish I had known love isn’t a function of quantity. Let me explain: I loved Josh 100% when he was born. While Ginny was pregnant with Riley, I feared I couldn’t love Riley as much, or that I would have to love Josh less in order to love Riley. This plagued me many a night until Riley was born. Once Riley showed up, I was relieved to know I could love her 100% and still love Josh 100%. It sounds stupid, but my brain works in very strange ways. Loving Riley fully didn’t affect my ability to love Josh fully, or Ginny for that matter. Actually, it increased my capacity to love each of them even more. Kind of Multiplication by Addition.

Thanks, Emily, for that great question!

Every now and again the kids at church surprise me. This was one of those days.

I was doing a lesson on David being just a boy, but God having big plans for him, when one of the kids asked, “Isn’t that the guy that saw that naked lady?” I confirmed that he was “that guy” and that Bathsheba was “that naked lady.” Then came the most profound question of the year.

“Why would God choose David when He knew he would fail?”

Seriously? That is an excellent question. Every now and then the kids floor me with something profound and impressive.

My answer (completely off the hip): God knew he would fail, but he also knew his heart. When David failed he was truly repentant and sought God’s forgiveness. God historically chose people with faults to be his leaders. People like Moses(anger, insecurity), Paul(persecutor, thorns), Peter(hothead, denied Christ), Solomon(wives). Truth is, I’m glad God chose leaders with faults. It gives me hope. I’m full of faults, but God can use me. Aside from Jesus, not one of God’s leaders was perfect. And neither am I.

That’s good news for all of us imperfect people out there. Just make sure your heart’s taken care of.

Heard any good questions lately?

June 2018
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