365 Days of Thanksliving — Day 256 Two-hundred days. That’s 200 sunrises with 12+hour workdays for all hands-on deck. It’s equivalent to over 1200 rotations of 4-hour watches. It’s over 3 million meals served; thousands of aircraft evolutions; and an incalculable number of gallons of potable water produced. For over 200 days, the men and women of the USS Abraham Lincoln, one of America’s 11 nuclear-powered aircraft carriers, has been on watch. Her crew hasn’t stepped on land

I paused the 80s mixtape playing in the background, closed all the programs, opened the file again, meticulously went through the print settings, and clicked the print button again. But then? The beachball of death—you know the one: that notorious spinning ball of light that tells us something’s amiss.

Anywho, it hit me today how wild it is to live right in the space between those two realities: the grace of good rest vs. world-ending stuff —the macro and the micro.

Last night? Last evening was abby-normal. I began beseeching the Lord, actually finished making my petitions, and yet I was, like, still totally energized. (What, am I a Valley Girl now? Hahaha). That’s different, I thought. I then prayed some more: “God, please grant me a good night's sleep. You know I gotta work in the morning.”

From all walks of life, spanning from their 20s to their 80s, 550 Regiment alumni gathered throughout the year. They rehearsed, got fitted for new uniforms and horns, and then traveled from every corner of the globe to Indianapolis to take the field together one last time.

Oh my stars, y’all. This morning, I got distracted with the distraction of distractions… with, of all things, the “vroom vroom” song. You scratching your head yet? I was too. Hang with me for a bit. This is a light and silly one to close out your Friday.

Thank you, Lord, for wise counselors who are quick to listen and thoughtful in speech. I thank you for them, and I thank you that you are the author of all wisdom, and for guiding me through them.

Well, when I walked into the office this morning, all that clutter was nowhere to be found—like, Capital G-O-N-E gone. The office looked clean, clutter-free, and beautiful. Now, Jennifer’s been cleaning it up a bit here and there lately. And me? I’d thought the place needed a bit of artwork on the walls. So, I bought three large country-style frames to mat some of my landscape photos, and yesterday I finally hung those bad boys up. Well, with my photos hanging and Jennifer’s

That all said, I’m thankful I asked the question I did, even if it seemed a bit silly. I like to think of myself as intelligent enough to know some of the more obvious things, but it’s the less obvious that I know I’d miss. Moreover, I also know myself… I’d miss something important.

Since I can’t seem to muster up a grand story today—because, honestly, it’s just been a nice, perfectly mundane Monday—let’s do something a little different. Let’s play a game. We're going to list as many things as we can be thankful for, just for today alone. I’ll start. THEN, you continue on in the comments.

I get it, I’m wading into the weeds. I just… sometimes I wonder about all this history and wish the “experts” would come clean—perhaps just to say, “We don’t know.” But to admit that takes humility. And well, you know what the opposite of that is: that original sin akin to that red, pitchforked serpent’s MO—pride.

In all seriousness, it takes a special kind of crazy to voluntarily strap yourself to a 2,000-pound meat tank just to have your internal organs rearranged for eight seconds. Those cowboys must own majority stock in our nation’s pharmaceuticals. Anybody got a Costco-sized bottle of Advil? My spine hurts just watching them.

Throughout the day, I wondered if he was just out for a casual bike ride, or intentionally sharing his love for Jesus with whomever would listen. Well, I was listening, and for him, I had to thank the Lord. I thanked God for this young man, praising the Lord aloud without a care in the world. I thanked the Lord for Mr. HGP’s faith and his casual yet simple evangelism. Mostly, I thanked the Lord that this young man set off my day in the most perfect way.

Country roads. I love 'em. Honestly, when I was a prissy little suburban punk, I feared those dusty, gravelly roads. But since moving to the country, I’ve learned to enjoy them for what they are: gateways to the unexplored.

As I looked at it, I figured, why not? That would make a fun "just because" gift for Shawn and Connie, especially considering it’s his birthday today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAWN! So today, I slapped a title and my signature on the print, and hauled it over to Shawn at work.

“I see you.” Three simple words strung together, the sum of their individual parts meaning so much more. In James Cameron’s Avatar, there exists a people called the Na’vi. The Na’vi saw beyond seeing; they saw into the heart. Like the Na’vi: “I see you, dear quiet lady.”

Now, don’t go lecturing me or nothing. You love them too. I mean, what’s not to love about molten apple pie filling encased in a fried filo-dough type of shell? Sure, in no way are they healthy, but this is Ronald’s house we’re talking about. McDonald’s hasn’t stayed in business because people want a salad.

While I truly dig my new regular specks (and, you know, safely operating a motor vehicle), I was overjoyed to have my sunglasses back. Honestly, I have the photic tolerance of a vampire when the sky is even minimally bright. For all these reasons, but especially the last, I feel hugely grateful today to the Lord. I feel like a spoiled kid who just got the exact toy he wanted

So, now you know. In case anybody asks, or dare one of your kids or grandkids accuse you of being “old,” you can politely inform them there are strictly defined categories of “old.”

Like a heavenly choir of angels, their voices filled the room. Normally, my octogenarian friends are kinda quiet. This morning, though, they sang their hearts out. I had to compliment them, just as Sherm would have. “You all sound so wonderful this morning.” Wowzers. (Honestly, I wish my congregation sang like that, and they sing, let me tell ya!).