There is a profound weight to confidentiality—the act of holding sacred the secrets of another person’s heart. While we in the Protestant tradition don’t always emphasize the formal rite of confession, there is still a deep need to confide in another those things that often feel as though they begin and end between God and man. What I am carrying tonight isn't quite that, but it is close enough to feel the same gravity.

Isaiah 54:17 promises that "no weapon formed against you shall prosper," though I’m fairly certain the Prophet Isaiah wasn't specifically referencing a Hoover upright. Still, who’s to say God doesn't use canine companions to ward off evil, real or imagined?

Ya know what? That makes for a fairly picture-perfect day in my books. For that, we have God to thank. Yes, I’m thankful for the turning of the seasons from winter to spring, but more than that, I’m thanking the good Lord tonight because people are outside, in community, actually “doing life” together instead of staring at a screen.

In every congregation I've served, there are those standout souls who exemplify what it actually means to follow Jesus. It isn't usually in the flashy stuff. I see it in the "small" things: the way people serve, the genuine joy in their eyes, and the way they show up. In his second letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul noted that “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7).

365 Days of Thanksliving — Day 135 Howdy, howdy blog friends. I hope you’ve been having a wonderful day. For me, things have gone by like a total whirlwind. One might say my day actually began last night, just moments after I uploaded my last post. By the way, thank all of you who read blog no. 134 and shared your words of encouragement. Much love—me thumps my chest in appreciation. So, back to the story. Shortly after uploading, I received a text from a church friend shari

A bit of a warning tonight: my snark meter is on the fritz. It’s feeling a little broken, which usually means things are about to get serious. I try my darndest to avoid politics from the pulpit, but this blog isn't my pulpit. Sometimes, I just have to be "Just Jason" and say it like I see it. (I guess that was a little snarky. Sorry? Not sorry.)

The "Boxer Bunch" was in sheer heaven. We barely walked through the door before we loaded them into the car. They had no clue their afternoon was about to revolve entirely around them. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the park, and I’m pretty sure their K-9 brains exploded. They say all dogs go to heaven, but for our boys, heaven is a fenced-in field with new friends.

Here’s an interesting factoid you probably didn’t ask for, but you’re getting anyway: Did you know the American Colonists went to war with the King over a taxation rate of only 1–2%? Yup. They were ready to throw hands (and tea) over paying King Charlie a pittance compared to what their English brethren back in the motherland were shelling out—which was about ten times that amount.

These past two weeks have brought those memories rushing back, draped in a fresh sense of nostalgia. Today, I am incredibly thankful that after all these decades, four brave souls have safely splashed down into the Pacific Ocean after traveling nearly 695,000 miles to the moon and back. While this mission was a technical marvel, I find myself simply thanking God for their safe return. It is a reminder of the awe-inspiring journey we are all on.

I’m incredibly thankful for the "perfect" burger and the singing church ladies tonight. It’s like the day was intentionally filling up my reservoir of cheer so I’d have plenty to pour out during the harder conversation tonight. Whether it’s a perfectly placed slice of American cheese or the unity of siblings who actually care, there is so much grace hidden in the details.

The title of today’s post is a bit of an oxymoron, isn't it? I’m going to put it right out there and give thanks to the Lord our God for the “unvirtual” world. Ironically, I’m saying that while shouting into the digital simulation we call the World Wide Web, where we all spend way too much of our lives.

My heart rate went from a cool 70 to a hummingbird-style 130 in a split second. It was a genuine "Holy blankety-blank" moment. I immediately went into crisis mode: "Father, forgive me, for I have clearly sinned... and I’m an idiot." I audibly thanked God the Father and His Son for keeping me safe from that Ford F-350, which was doing a solid 45 mph in a 30-mph zone.