“Let’s get physical, physical. I wanna get physical. Let me hear your body talk. Let me hear your body talk.” (Olivia Newton John)

So, I started listening and even talking to my body this week, and I was honestly surprised at how much it helped. It might be something that could make a difference for you too.

But before I get into all of that, let me introduce you to the couple I’m with in the picture above.

That’s Eric & Christy. Christy is wearing her Lady Vols Tennessee basketball shirt and I’m wearing my new Olivia Miles shirt because we’re all fans of women’s basketball, and we were just about to watch the Wings play the Fever. (Eric wears only Colts gear!)

In my younger years, I did my best to keep up with these two “Young Guns”. That included everything from running 5Ks with Christy and even facing each other in a pickup basketball game. And with Eric that included everything from hiking the Grand Canyon to doing an event called the Mud Run.

Some of you might also recognize the “bad ass” in red.

Since then I’ve put on a lot of miles and have grown significantly older. And during the past few years my knees have been making sure I don’t forget it.

Of course, there are a lot of people who are dealing with far worse, including one of the women who was playing for the Wings that night…. Paige Bueckers.

And guess what…

Despite the fact that Paige is a 24-year-old professional basketball player, and the No. 1 pick in the WNBA draft, and the fact that I’m a 70-year-old retired pastor who on his good days plays a little recreational softball & pickleball, we actually have something in common.

Bad Knees

In 2021 Paige tore her meniscus and suffered a tibial plateau fracture. In 2022 she missed an entire season when she tore her ACL.

Even now, she has talked openly about the psychological effects of those injuries, including the fear that can come from landing on one leg or playing in crowded areas.

Most of us will never experience anything quite like that. But I suspect a lot of us can relate to the larger experience of spending most of our lives telling our bodies what to do.

Run. Jump. Play. Climb the stairs & Keep going. But then one day our body says…

Excuse me, we need to “talk”.

That’s when the opportunity for a whole new relationship can happen. In the case of my knees, I can no longer simply make demands, I also have to listen.

Sometimes I have to apologize. Sometimes I have to take one of them to the doctor. Sometimes they need ice. Sometimes they need rest. And sometimes they just need me to quit pretending they’re still 40.

One of the things that Paige did to make peace with this new reality was to give her knee a name, Patricia. She said, it felt right because it sounds sort of like Patella. (Your kneecap)

I immediately fell in love with the idea and eventually decided to name my knees Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid.

They were partners in crime who had one hell of a ride.

I was telling my good friend Jeff about some of the names I had had been thinking about, when I asked him if he had any body parts calling for his attention, and he told me he actually has four different ones, all on his right side.

Knowing he plays the guitar and loves the Beatles, I suggested he might have some fun deciding which parts were going to be John & Paul, and which ones would have to settle for George & Ringo.

If you decide to give this a try, I’d love to hear about it.

I don’t know how long it will stick, but I can tell you this: Instead of looking at my knees with nothing but frustration, I’ve actually been having a bit of fun with them.

In fact, after a good game of softball game this week, I looked down at them and said, “Thanks guys, you did a really great job. I appreciate it!”

And that got me to thinking.

Maybe the real wisdom here isn’t about naming our body parts. Maybe it’s about learning how to have a kinder relationship with the things in our lives we can no longer control.

Because our bodies aren’t the only things that eventually stop taking orders.

• Sometimes it’s our careers.

• Sometimes it’s our children.

• Sometimes it’s our marriages.

• Sometimes it’s our dreams.

• Sometimes it’s our future.

That’s what I’m learning from Butch and Sundance.

You can’t always make your body do what you want. You can’t always make life do what you want. But you can choose how you meet it. So this week, I’m going to try to listen a little more…

To my body. To the people I love. To the things that aren’t going according to plan. And maybe even to the things I’ve been trying so hard to control.

Because, perhaps the goal isn’t to get our old lives back but to become better listeners to the life we do have, and in the process, to keep on enjoying it.

Here’s hoping we all hear something good.

Johnny B ++

And for me that will definitely include listening, at least one more time, to a singer who spent decades living right here in Arlington, Texas…

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“I’ve been deep down in that darkness. I’ve been down to my last match. Felt a hundred different demons breathin’ fire down my back.” (Rodney Atkins)

Our daughter Steffanie loves to visit museums. So, when she was visiting earlier this summer she and Ruth and I spent some time at the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth.

Ruth asked one of the docents an interesting question: If I were to see only one painting in your collection which one would you say shouldn’t be missed. Without even hesitating the docent began to describe the painting above. And here’s what we learned…

“The Torment of Saint Anthony” is generally regarded as Michelangelo’s earliest surviving painting, probably painted when he was about 12 or 13.

Apparently, they have every reason to be proud of it. As it turns out, there are only four easel paintings in the entire world accepted as being by Michelangelo, and this painting is the only one of those in the United States.

It’s an incredibly vivid and haunting painting that depicts Saint Anthony the Great being attacked by demons. If you ever get a chance to see it, the demons are chaotic, grotesque and aggressive.

However, Anthony is remarkably still. And perhaps that’s what caught my attention. The painting doesn’t suggest that faith means the demons won’t come. It suggests that faith can help us remain standing when they do.

The bible describes that notion like this

Jen is one of the cycle instructors at our local Y. Her physical and mental toughness inspires many and she too is a person of faith.

In fact, she currently serves as one of the Superintendents for the Dallas Catholic Diocese which includes approximately 14,000 students and 36 schools. And she likes to put it like this…

I’ve certainly been knocked on my butt more than a few times and I’m sure that’s true for you as well, but there are a lot of people who have been tested far more than me, including Jen’s brother-in-law.

The day after he retired, he suffered a devastating stroke… I can’t imagine the darkness that he and his wife have experienced since then, but he then became involved in an amazing organization called “The Adaptive Training Foundation”.

This is a non-profit organization based in Texas that provides free, high-intensity physical and mental training for veterans and civilians with physical impairments, amputations, or paralysis.

After watching a couple of videos, it was clear that the support and encouragement that participants give to each other is also hugely helpful. Then again, isn’t that true for all of us. (Jen’s brother-in-law is at the top of the pics below)

The song by Rodney Atkins that I quoted at the beginning is a more light hearted take on adversity, but I do hold tight and appreciate its reminder that…

“There’s angels everywhere… holding out a hand to help pull you back up on your feet.”

Life can be rough. Heck, just the process of growing old is no cake walk. In fact, if that docent at the Kimbell had told us this was Michelangelo’s effort to capture the challenges of aging I would have believed it.

But regardless of your age, it can be helpful to remember that admitting you might be tired, or lonely, or scared, or struggling is always okay. None of this means you’re weak. It simply means you’re human.

And if you sometimes find, like I often do, that a bit of humor can help as well, then you might get a smile from the rest of Rodney’s song which includes the refrain…

“If you’re going through hell keep on moving, face that fire, walk right through it. You might get out before the devil even knows you’re there.”

Have a good week & keep on moving!

Johnny B ++

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“All of these years and my life is still just trying to get up that great big hill of hope, for a destination.” (Dolly Parton & Linda Perry)

My mother loved country music and so I grew up listening to people like Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Buck Owens and Patsy Cline. The first time I heard Dolly Parton was when she started singing on the Porter Wagoner Show.

Since then, Dolly Parton has become a lot more than a country singer, and even now, at the age of 80, she seems to be getting more and more amazing.

This past week I heard a song for the first time that she did with another singer by the name of Linda Perry, who first released “What’s Up” over 30 years ago. Parton changes a few of the lines but the core spirit of the song remains.

As one writer put it…

“Her repeated cry of “What’s going on?” captures the universal feeling that all of us have had at different times when looking at a troubled world, feeling overwhelmed, and needing to scream out the frustration.”

Since then, I haven’t been able to forget the unique blend of anger and hopefulness that fills this song or the video they made to go with it, which includes a bunch of kids just being kids.

For years our congregation has also been doing what we can to try and support the kids in our community. It’s something that a lot of us feel passionate about.

We know that every school day there are millions of American children who receive breakfast and or lunch for free or at a reduced price through the National breakfast and lunch programs.

To put it another way, we know that every day there are millions of American kids who walk into their school cafeteria knowing that breakfast or lunch may be one of the most reliable meals they get that day.

Unfortunately, due to all the cuts that were made to these programs there’s going to be a lot less families able to qualify.

Nobody likes to be “preached at”, including me, but maybe there are times when, like Dolly, it’s okay to raise our voices and say…

My wife Ruth taught public school for 40 years and the one thing that she and every other teacher know well is this… Kids who are hungry have a hard time learning. Wouldn’t you?

In my mind, for any wealthy country with vast farmlands to allow its own children to live on the edge of malnutrition is unforgivable because as one writer put it….

Every kid deserves a good chance at life, farm kids, street kids, and even that kid you might never see again.

There is plenty of bad luck available later in life, and it’s never going to be a just world, but shouldn’t we at least be able to guarantee our kids good schools and sufficient food while they’re growing up?

I don’t normally do soapbox pitches, but if you’re willing to hang with me for just a couple more moments, I’d like to bring it all down to you and me with a little proposal…

What if we all agree to be like Dolly Parton

Here’s how it might work. After giving each other permission to be angry and to vent about whatever injustice is bothering you, we also have to be willing to ask ourselves the question…

Okay, so what am I going to do about it?

Dolly Parton saw something that bothered her, the fact that children didn’t have enough books, and she did something about it. More than 325 million books later, that’s a pretty good answer to “What’s going on?”

I can’t give away 325 million books, but I can hop into my old blue pick up in order to bring over another pallet of food for the families in our community who could use a little extra help. You might be able to do something else.

Just last week, our congregation held its annual “Blessing of the Backpacks”. It’s the Sunday when all the children and teachers and people in education are invited to come to the altar and kneel as the church prays for them.

You’re probably familiar with it. A lot of churches do it and it’s certainly a great place to start. So yes, let’s keep praying for all of the kids in our country, for their parents, for their teachers, for their safety and wellbeing… and for our country too.

Some people seem to live on things like anger and outrage. I’m just not made that way. But there have been a lot of days when I have felt much like this kid, and maybe you too can relate.

The kind of times when the only thing you can manage is to hold your hands up in the air in the hope that maybe, just maybe there’s still some hope for better days.

Or maybe, in the words of another country song, this is one of those weeks where you are feeling: “My give a damn is busted.” I’ve been there too and it’s okay.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what “Climbing that great big Hill of Hope” looks like. Not fixing everything. Not pretending the world isn’t broken. Just granting each other enough grace and enough space to find that next place where we can lend a hand, say a prayer, share what we have, and take another step.

The hill is still there. There’s still a long way to go. But somehow, when we climb it together, it doesn’t seem quite so steep.

Johnny B ++

I would say, this just might be the best 3 minutes of your day, but the truth is, it will probably stay in your heart a lot longer than that!

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“Yo quiero montarle a un toro pa’ que me mire mi amor” (I want to ride a bull so that my love will watch me) Linda Ronstadt

La Charreada is an exuberant & beautiful song about the kind of Mexican rodeos that have always been more like community festivals, featuring everything from bull riding and equestrian displays to music, dancing & lots of food.

I’ve always liked Linda Ronstadt and especially this song because as one person put it…

I couldn’t have said it better.

Now, I’m not saying that any of this would get me anywhere near a real bull. But as I was listening to this song in my car again this week, it reminded me of a road trip that Ruth and I took many years ago that took us all the way through Yellowstone.

The day we left Yellowstone, continuing our journey north, we ended up in a little town called Gardiner, Montana.

Back then Gardiner hosted summer rodeos that were less about polished professional competition and more about good old-fashioned Montana fun. There were all kinds of “wild & woolly” events, including one I still remember….

The Ring of Fear

I’m not sure how they came up with the name, but they were clearly NOT trying to sell insurance. Here’s how it worked…

• Volunteers signed waivers.

• They put on helmets.

• Chalk circles were drawn around the arena.

• Each contestant stood inside one.

• A fighting bull was released.

• And the contestants couldn’t leave their circles.

• The last person standing won.

I can’t remember what the prize was, but I suspect it was something less valuable than your life.

Then there were the rodeo clowns

Their job was to distract the bull and to even put themselves between the bull and any fallen contestant in order to give them enough time to get out of trouble, which when you think about it, is a pretty remarkable thing to do.

Those clowns weren’t stupid. They knew what a bull could do. They just decided that for those few moments, somebody else’s needs was more important than their fear.

This was Ruth and me back in those days. But since that trip, like all of you, we’ve discovered that bulls aren’t the only things capable of charging into your life without warning.

Sometimes we choose the arena. More often, we don’t.

A diagnosis. A broken relationship. A loss. Isn’t it amazing how something like a single phone call can forever change the future you had imagined.

And when those times come, it’s understandable to look at the people closest to us and wonder…

Will you really be there for me?

And I don’t mean somewhere nearby, like at the concession stand getting something to drink or chatting with someone you just met in the stands. I mean right there with me.

Nobody wants to find themselves in a Ring of Fear.

But when we do, it can make all the difference in the world to know that somebody is willing to stand nearby.

I believe that during those times the good Lord is also with us. In fact, I’ve spent a good part of my life reminding people of that promise. But here’s the thing…

You can have all the convictions in the world but it’s not until there’s a bull charging your way that you learn how quickly your confidence can disappear. And you know what….

I’m no different than anyone else.

That’s one of the reasons worship will always be a regular part of my life. Not for the coffee, or even the fellowship, but because I too need to hear the reassuring Good News about God’s ongoing, ever-present love.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Maybe that’s why this song grabbed me again this week. I don’t understand every word, but I understand the feeling.

Sometimes we need to be reminded that we aren’t standing in that circle alone.

Sometimes God gives us that reminder through a hymn, a prayer, a Scripture verse or a familiar voice.

And sometimes God gives us that reminder through another human being who simply refuses to walk away.

And maybe one of the greatest miracles is not that God makes us fearless, but that God can use us even when we are afraid.

So, if life has thrown someone you love into a Ring of Fear, don’t underestimate what your presence might mean.

You don’t have to know what to say.

You don’t have to fix anything.

You don’t even have to feel particularly brave.

Sometimes you just have to stay in the circle.

And if you need a little reminder of what a gift that can be, just turn up Linda Ronstadt!

You might not understand every word she’s singing, but that’s okay, our love for each other often gets communicated in ways that go far beyond words.

And for this week, that just might be more than enough.

Johnny B ++

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“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.” (Luke 12)

Hello friends, it’s been a hot week here in Texas and most of the people I know, and critters too, are doing their best just to stay cool. How hot was it? It’s been so hot that even the squirrels became throw rugs. Just one more example of why…

It’s been a Francis kind of week.

It began on Monday when I joined a lot of other folks who had gathered together for a memorial service in order to remember and give thanks to God for a wonderful man by the name of Ronald “Ronnie” Ward.

Pastor Mark led a lovely service and along the way I learned a few things about Ronnie that really touched my heart, including his wish to have his ashes buried next to those of his beloved dog, Bud.

If you have ever loved a dog, a cat or even a kangaroo who somehow became a part of your family, you probably understand Ronnie’s wish. It wasn’t really about ashes. It was about love. And love has never been very good at staying inside other people’s categories.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons why Christians have always had such affection for St. Francis. He understood something we sometimes forget, that loving God’s creation isn’t sentimental. It’s one more way of honoring our Creator.

St. Francis saw every living creature as a reflection of God’s love and treated them as members of his own family.

And still today, there are churches all around the world who continue to honor his legacy by holding outdoor pet blessings. It was certainly one of my favorite traditions.

For one day each year, the church sounded sort of like Noah’s Ark! And I always suspected that God was smiling.

Because Ronnie’s funeral stayed with me, I started thinking about some of the other critter related conversations I’ve had this summer. Including a sad but touching conversation with John & Sonia Jager right after the death of their long-time dog, Matthew.

Then, just when I thought I’d experienced every kind of pastoral request imaginable, I received a text with a message that I would have never seen coming.

Would you pray for a kangaroo?

The message came from a wonderful former neighbor named Lisa who was writing to me on behalf of a good friend named Briana, who had a kangaroo named Nigel.

Apparently, Nigel was having emergency surgery for a twisted spleen. Sadly, Nigel didn’t survive the surgery. And yet, Briana’s love for Nigel, along with Lisa’s love for Briana stayed with me.

And because the impulse to pray is always good, regardless of why or when or even who inspires it, I wanted to share this one with you…

Gracious Lord, I give you thanks this day for Nigel and for all of your creatures!

They bring so much joy and beauty and wonder and love into the world. Thank you for trusting us with their companionship, even if only for a little while.

I ask that you would also continue providing both comfort and peace to the Jagers and Briana and of course Tena too, as she continues to miss her beloved Ronnie, who by your grace and in ways beyond our comprehension, has now been reunited with Bud.

Please be with all our family & friends this week. And may the bonds we share with each other, and with all your creation, continue to be a blessing to us and a source of joy to you.

For you have made us all. And it is good!

Johnny B ++

And if you could use a smile…

Maybe St. Frances had it right.

You never know what member of God’s creation is going to sneak into your heart next.

Sometimes they bark.

Sometimes they hop.

Sometimes they steal an Orioles game.

Enjoy this weeks unofficial MVP

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“Mama, take this badge off of me. I can’t use it anymore. It’s getting dark, too dark to see. I feel I’m knockin’ on Heaven’s door.” (Bob Dylan)

Hey everyone, I hope your summer is going well. Since celebrating my birthday last weekend, I’ve been spending a bit of time this week getting used to the idea of being 70 years old now.

During my late 60’s I use to tell people how it felt like I was in the 7th inning stretch of my life. I’ve always liked baseball and because that happens to be one of the more fun and light hearted times during a game, I was actually feeling pretty good.

But now that I’m 70, I’ve started wondering just how many outs do I have left?! And that’s when I started doing the math.

First, I looked up some of the different ways you can try to figure out your likely age span. The one that made the most sense to me said: “Men who reach age 65 can expect to live an additional 18 years.”

Of course, there are no guarantees, but from a purely mathematical standpoint:

If my “game” turns out to be 83 years long... At 70, I’ve already completed 70 ÷ 83 = 84.3% of the game. A baseball game has nine innings, so: 84.3% × 9 = 7.59 innings.

In other words, that means I am already a little more than halfway through the 8th inning. And honestly, that sounded a little unsettling at first, but when you think about it, sometimes it can also be when the game becomes the most interesting.

• Every pitch matters.

• Managers become more intentional.

• Fans lean forward instead of checking their phones.

• And, of course, every baseball fan knows the game isn’t over until the final out.

As you think about your own life, although the actuarial table can give you an average ending time, it can’t tell you anything about the quality of the remaining innings.

Baseball fans rarely remember a game because it lasted exactly nine innings. They remember it because something wonderful happened near the end, a dramatic comeback, an impossible catch, a rookie’s first home run.

The older I get, the more I find myself thinking about what actually matters.

For me, that means spending time with the people and things that give life meaning… My faith, my health, my family and my friends. My recent birthday certainly feels like an appropriate example because…

Every once in a while, life gives us a little “Field of Dreams” moment.

An evening with friends.

A grandchild’s laugh.

Singing “Sweet Caroline” with a room full of people you love.

For a few minutes you think, “Is this heaven?”

No... But maybe it’s a little reminder of where we’re headed.

Bob Dylan was once asked what he’d learned about getting older. He answered:

I hope I’m learning that lesson before I’m haunted by it.

Maybe that’s why Field of Dreams has stayed with so many of us for nearly forty years. The players don’t march off the field at the end. They simply disappear back into the corn, one by one, after playing the game they were given.

None of us knows exactly when we’ll make that walk.

But while we’re still on the field, there are balls to catch, bases to run, songs to sing, hugs to give, old friends to call, and grandchildren to enjoy.

Someday we will all walk off the field

But until then… Who knows?

Baseball has taught me to never leave before the ninth.

Johnny B ++

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“Hey Boo Boo! Let’s go get us a pic-a-nic basket!” (Yogi Bear)

We didn’t pack a “pic-a-nic basket” but we did invite our family over for some burgers & dogs recently, and as I was slicing up the watermelon, it left me feeling a bit nostalgic for those days when eating a watermelon meant having juice running down your hands & arms & even your chin.

And of course, one of the best parts was impressing each other with our watermelon seed spitting prowess! Which makes me wonder….

When and how did they figure out how to eliminate all those seeds?!

Speaking of nostalgia, I’ve been wanting to tell you about one of those delightful rabbit holes I found myself following after a post-game lunch with my softball team.

We played well and spirits were high. That’s when one of my teammates leaned across the table and asked…

“Do you know what happened when Hanna-Barbera tried to make another Yogi Bear?”

“They made a Boo-Boo.”

It was wonderfully corny. The kind of joke that doesn’t just make you laugh; it opens a door you didn’t even realize was there.

This time it took me straight back to the Saturday mornings of my childhood. I used to love watching Yogi Bear, Bugs Bunny, the Flintstones & countless others…

I can still sing the Jetsons theme and also name every member of the Quest family, including Johnny’s dog, Bandit. But ask me whether Speedy Gonzales could outrun the Road Runner...

I’ve got no idea.

Maybe they raced once. Maybe they didn’t. I could have looked it up. But somehow, I like leaving a few childhood mysteries unsolved.

There are so many different things that can stir up feelings of nostalgia for us. A book. A movie. A photograph. Here’s a few of mine…

Old country music - mom.

Muscle cars - high school.

Public swimming pools - Sunburned summers

Before sharing how an old movie helped to remind me of that, I came across something from Kate Bowler that gave me a renewed appreciation for just how long people have felt both the pull and the power of nostalgia.

“It turns out that the term nostalgia was coined in 1688 by a Swiss medical student named Johannes Hofer, who needed a name for what he thought was an illness afflicting Swiss mercenaries serving in foreign armies.

He took the Greek nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain) and stitched them together. The pain of wanting to return home. Hofer thought it was a disease of the brain, possibly fatal.”

Thankfully, we learned long ago that instead of an illness, nostalgia is actually more of a doorway, which makes me wonder…

Do you consider yourself a nostalgic person? A little? Not at all? I love this description…

“Nostalgia is that bittersweet yearning that doesn’t demand you fix your life but simply invites you to remember it.”

I still remember my first years as a pastor. I spent a lot of time with the teens. Taking them on retreats and mission trips and doing my best to teach them about God’s grace and love.

That’s why very December, in addition to all of the traditional bible studies and time spent on the Small Catechism, I would make them watch… “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

Clarence didn’t simply show George Bailey his past. He showed him what the world would have looked like without it.

Every ordinary kindness...

Every sacrifice...

Every conversation...

Every small decision George had long forgotten, that had quietly changed someone else’s life.

George spent most of the movie believing he hadn’t accomplished very much. But memory told a different story. Sometimes that’s exactly what nostalgia does for us.

It doesn’t just remind us of where we’ve been. It reminds us that our lives mattered while we were there.

The old neighborhood. The songs on the radio. The people we’ve loved. Even the mistakes we’ve survived. They’re evidence that we have lived. And perhaps that’s one of nostalgia’s greatest gifts. It quietly whispers…

In fact, I think it’s fair to even say that much of our identity is held together by the stories we remember. And after spending 40 years sitting beside hospital beds, nursing homes, and hospice rooms, I can tell you something else I’ve noticed…

That long after people have forgotten appointments, birthdays and even names... It’s all those old stories they most often remember.

So, what does this have to do with you?

Well, how about this? The next time you find yourself feeling a bit nostalgic, instead of thinking of it as escapism, think of it as something we carry with us.

Not to keep us from living today but to remind us of how we learned to love. And how we learned to laugh. And how we survived. And who helped us to become the people we are today.

And who knows, it might even be one of those things that makes us….

“Smarter than the average bear!”

Johnny B ++

On a Personal Note

A huge thanks to all of you who were able to help me celebrate my 70th birthday this past Friday. I hope it was even a fraction as much fun for you as it was for me.

In fact, there were a lot of moments when it felt as if the Lord himself had just decided to let me experience my very own version of that last scene from “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

This I do know… I am a blessed man indeed!

And if you have another moment…

Growing up my mom used to fry everything. In fact, I can still see the soup can sitting near the stove which was always half filled with bacon grease.

Every kitchen seemed to have one and if you grew up in my generation, you probably know exactly which can I’m talking about.

And speaking of kitchen memories, I recently shared the following commercial with a couple of my grandkids. And you know what….

It still makes you smile! And just like Mikey… I think you’ll like it!

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For the past few weeks, I’ve been hearing languages I don’t recognize. I’ve watched people in Viking gear walk down Collins and I’ve seen children wearing jerseys from countries I’ve only read about.

It has reminded me that sometimes the world doesn’t seem nearly as big, or as frightening as we imagine.

The stadium that the Dallas Cowboys calls home is a mere 4 miles from our home, and during the past few weeks it has also been serving as one of the key sites for the World Cup games.

I don’t normally follow soccer, but the excitement has been contagious. I even surprised myself by rooting for Norway. Maybe it was “The Row” that won me over or how the players all dressed up like real Vikings at the beginning of the tournament.

Then again, it might be the picture I still have of myself wearing a Viking helmet while racing a cardboard boat in a regatta years ago at Hurricane Harbor. I have a hunch that if Norway’s star player, Erling Haaland, had been in our boat we might have actually won!

Maybe I have always had a soft spot for Norwegians

Like Andy, they tend to be thoughtful & caring. Like Peggy they are often loyal and hard-working. And like Marie they’re frequently bright and thoughtful. I don’t really know Chris but apparently, he too comes from a family that grew up eating Lutefisk and saying Uff da!

Then again, maybe all of us carry little pieces of other countries inside our lives, whether we realize it or not. In our family, that country has always been Mexico.

Ruth’s story has always felt especially compelling to me because it goes far deeper than visiting another country as a tourist.

Her father, Alvin Koehler was named the first full time Director of Mexican Missions for the American Lutheran Church spending 15 years of Mission work along the border.

For the first ten years of her life Ruth grew up surrounded by the people, customs, food and traditions of the Mexican people. Hearing Spanish every day, crossing the border for a special meal, the lively music and the Mexican friends she still holds dear to this day.

It’s funny how the places that shape us when we’re young often continue calling us home decades later.

In fact, when the time comes to celebrate our 40th Wedding Anniversary later this year we have already made plans to do it in San Antonio at one of our favorite restaurants… Mi Tierra.

Meanwhile, back here in Arlington, I know that by the end of this week the traffic will lessen, the jerseys will disappear and the airports will fill. But….

I hope something stays behind.

I hope we will continue to remember how natural it felt to smile at someone whose language we couldn’t speak. How easy it was to cheer beside complete strangers. And how quickly “foreign” became “familiar”.

Watching people from every corner of the globe fill our streets reminded me of that old Coca-Cola commercial where young people from around the world stood on a hillside singing together.

Maybe it was idealistic.

Maybe it still is.

But for a few weeks, something really beautiful happened here. We smiled at people whose language we couldn’t speak. We cheered for countries we’d never visited.

We discovered that once you’ve shared a laugh or simply stood shoulder to shoulder cheering the same goal, it’s a little harder to believe that “those people” are all that different from us.

Maybe that’s one of God’s favorite ways of working, not by erasing our differences, but by inviting the whole world to show up in your neighborhood just long enough to remind you that at the end of the day, we really are a part of the same team.

Forget the score. Just get in the game, have a great week, and when you get the chance… Cheer for each other!

Johnny B ++

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Happy Fourth of July weekend everyone!

I hope yesterday gave you a chance to relax, enjoy and give thanks for the freedoms and blessings we enjoy as Americans.

I was so impressed to see how towns and cities throughout our country came together to celebrate our nation’s 250th Birthday.

We didn’t brave the heat in order to join the nearly 75,000 people who attended Arlington’s Independence Day parade, but I did begin my day at our local Y with a cycle class that treated us to all kinds of Patriotic music. Thanks again Jen!

Because I’m still basking in the incredible beauty and much needed reminder of how inspiring it is when we come together, I wanted to share something I posted yesterday…

To all of you who serve, pray & continue to do what you can to help make our nation “a more perfect union”… Thank you!

And to our amazing, imperfect, but still promising country, let me echo here this wish from Anne Lamott…

“Happy birthday, gal, sweet land of liberty. 250 years! Now you can wear your big-girl pants. We celebrate your unfathomable beauty, your Constitution and your people. It’s your big weekend. Make a wish, blow out the candles, and show us what you’ve got.”

We weren’t at the beach but some of us here in Arlington did get to enjoy seeing and hearing the F-35’s that flew over Six Flags and AT&T stadium yesterday a little after 6:00 PM.

I was told they were flying at about 1,000 feet and when I ran outside to see them as they were flying over our house… I believe it!

Fly high my friends & may we always honor America’s promise.

Johnny B ++

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“School’s out for summer. School’s out forever.” (Alice Copper)

So, how is your summer going so far? Are you going to be able to do any trips? Slow down some? Raise a little hell? Have a little fun?

Whenever I hear the song, “School’s Out”, I love to tell people how Alice Cooper went to high school in the Phoenix area, just like me. He’s just a few years older and so when this song first came out in ’72 we were all screaming along while I was still in high school.

These days, Cooper is still active and having the time of his life. Having just completed his Spring “Alice’s Attic Tour” here in the U.S. he is currently traveling through Europe for massive summer festivals. Plus, he’s been writing a memoir: “Devil On My Shoulder”.

So back to us. How is YOUR summer going? Mine is getting better. I’m pretty sure ice packs and I are going to be lifelong companions from here on out, but I’ve recovered enough to start playing again.

In fact, I was recently getting something out of the back seat of my car and smiled when I saw all my “stuff”. That’s my backpack for pickleball. My exercise mat for the YMCA and some of my softball gear.

I even stretched out my wrinkled jersey and took a pic because looking at all of it, I realized how none of those things are really equipment.

They’re more like invitations, as well as reminders of how lucky I am.

Retirement has given me the freedom to spend 1-2 hours on most mornings doing something fun. I realize the window for these kinds of activities closes for everyone, including me, but for now….

And that, my friends, is my hope for both your week and your summer.

I know life rarely cooperates and that many of you are dealing with health challenges, caregiving responsibilities, financial worries, grief, or obligations that leave little time for play.

There are seasons when simply making it through the day is accomplishment enough.

For you, I pray that life’s burdens ease enough to bless you with moments of rest, laughter, and joy. A relaxing evening on the patio. A visit with someone you love. A good book. A favorite song. A reminder that even in difficult seasons, grace still finds us.

And for those who are able, don’t wait too long.

• Take the trip.

• Play the game.

• Go fishing.

• Sit by the water.

• Hang out with the grandkids.

• Laugh with your friends.

After all, summer doesn’t last forever. The bell has rung & school’s out. So, get outside and enjoy recess while you can.

Johnny B ++

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Happy Father’s Day

To all the fathers out there I hope you get an opportunity to see or hear from those who call you dad, pop or in my case… padre.

As for me, I had a pretty eye-opening conversation with one of our kids earlier this week. I was taking our son to the airport. It was early morning. Too early for a talk this heavy but it’s been that kind of week for him.

He was leaving for Nevada in order to attend his stepfather’s funeral. The day after he gets back he will be attending another funeral.

One of his best friends, who had a young baby and had just bought a house died suddenly. That one hit him especially hard. Before leaving he and some of his friends were gathering money for his young widow.

Then he started talking about some of the other people he has known who have died. The one that seemed to haunt him was how quickly one of his grandparents declined both mentally and physically.

I mostly listened. You don’t get many moments like this, and he wasn’t looking for insights or advice.

Between you and me, I too have seen a lot of people lose their passion, their mojo or whatever else you might want to call it. That thing inside that gives you the reason to get up in the morning and face what Shakespeare called….

“The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”

Listening to him, I found myself thinking that growing older isn’t really our biggest challenge. Most of us can handle a few aches and pains. What seems to wear people down is when they lose sight of what they’re living for…

Maybe that’s one of the gifts our loved ones give us… No matter how old we get, they remind us that we still have someone to love, someone to encourage, and a reason to keep showing up.

If you haven’t thought about what helps you to get up in the morning recently, you might want to take a quick look in the mirror.

The people I’ve known who age best aren’t always the healthiest, but they usually have a why. Someone they love. And a life they’re still showing up for.

And if you’d like a beautiful reminder of what that looks like, take three minutes to watch this…

Take care my friends, hope you all have a good week!

Johnny B ++

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So, how do you feel about celebrating birthdays? Do you like them big & loud or small & intimate? I’m guessing we have all have had bad ones, but were some like, just perfect?

I’ve been thinking about birthdays this week because I spent a part of it planning a big one for myself. I reserved one of my favorite restaurant/bars. Hired a DJ. Ordered some food. And started letting people know in the hope they can save the date.

And to all of you…. Consider yourself officially invited. If you live around my neck of the woods and are free that night, I would love to have you join us along with anyone else you would like to bring.

Birthdays are interesting, aren’t they? Some years you feel like celebrating and some years you don’t even want to think about it. The last time I threw a big birthday party for myself I was turning 40.

There was a Ramada Inn right across the street from the church. The manager was a member and gifted me one of their event rooms for the night. They even put, “Lordy, Lordy, John is 40” on their Ramada Inn sign.

Since then, most of my birthdays have usually been going out to eat or having the family over for cake. Just heard that Bruce Siefken had German Chocolate cake for his. Nice.

I love hearing about when people decide to go big or travel to a special place or do something completely different. And of course, sometimes we don’t have a choice. For instance…

Remember all those Pandemic Birthdays

We just wanted to be together but when we couldn’t, we got creative. Did you ever participate in one of those birthday parades where everybody would line up near the house in their vehicles? It was sort of like a rag tag version of being in a Macy’s Day parade.

And then everyone would drive by and honk and wave and shout happy birthday. We were all just doing the best we could and when our congregation did one for me, even though it felt surreal, I’ll always remember it… And the sign!

So anyway, it’s been 30 years since the last time I celebrated big. Maybe it’s because it’s one of those ZERO birthdays which often do a number on us. Or maybe it’s because I’m realizing that if I do have one more in me, I better do it now while I still have the stamina.

Although I’ve never been to Ireland, I’ve always loved the idea of sitting in a pub surrounded by friends, enjoying our favorite drinks and having ourselves a great big singalong…. And I think I know why.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered that singing was never really about music. It was about connections.

When I was in seminary, during one of our worship and liturgy courses the professor assured me that you don’t have to be a good singer in order to chant the Kyrie or the Great Thanksgiving. After the class, he discreetly pulled me aside and said…

“You know John, there are going to be people in every congregation you serve who not only have a gift and love for singing, but would also find it to be an incredibly meaningful way of serving their church. Perhaps when you get out in the parish, finding those folks would be a good idea.”

I always have. And he was absolutely right. The funny thing about those of us who have a hard time knowing if we are flat or sharp is why God would also turn around and then give us a love for singing.

Maybe it’s because singing was never meant to be a performance. Maybe it was always meant to bring us together. One of the great joys of a congregation is discovering that nobody has to carry the melody alone.

That’s also why I’m hoping some of you might help to provide a bit of energy and inspiration by taking a turn at coming up on stage for one of the songs with some of your friends, whether you know them from softball, pickleball, the Y or the church.

After all, when “Sweet Caroline” comes on, you’ll not only be singing along with Neil Diamond and everyone else in the room, nobody will know if you are on key or not!

And I suppose that’s the real message here

In fact, just earlier this week, Jeff and Barbara Nelson helped me to remember just that when they gathered a handful of friends for no special occasion at all. No birthday. No anniversary. No milestone. Just a chance to sit together, share a meal, tell stories and laugh.

As I thought about it later, it occurred to me that those ordinary gatherings may be some of the holiest things we do.

As you look ahead to your coming week, my hope and prayer for all of us is the same…

During a time when more and more people are feeling isolated, finding almost any opportunity or excuse to spend time with family and friends continues to feel like one of the most important things we can do.

So, throw the party. Invite the neighbors. Meet a friend for coffee. Stay a little longer after church. Say yes when someone asks you to join them.

Life moves quickly. The years even more so.

I’ve spent a lot of those years talking for a living, but for my birthday this year, I just want to sing and be with the people I love.

And if a room full of slightly off-key singers can teach us anything, it’s that joy was never meant to be experienced alone.

Johnny B ++

A Final Note…. Definitely Flat!

Although I am a bit haphazard when it comes to wishing people a happy birthday, each year I try to think of different ways to do it. So, with thanks to Dr. Perner who first saw this train wreck coming and helped me avoid it…. Here’s this year’s effort.

And because I may or may not remember your birthday when it comes along…. Enjoy it now or just think of it as the icing on today’s cake.

https://youtube.com/shorts/0LCBTqedKaA?feature=share

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Every now and then I come across a story that makes me smile while also reminding me of the power we have to lift each other up.

Meet the Salesian Sisters of St. John Bosco, also formally known as the Institute of the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians. These devoted sisters have followed the San Antonio Spurs for decades.

Although their primary mission revolves around educating and guiding young people, their added love for the Spurs has helped them to connect with both children and youth while lifting up the core values they share with the Spurs…

Unity, Teamwork, Discipline & Respect..

It turns out, the feeling is mutual. That’s why you will often find them courtside at home games. Unlike the New York Knicks, who have a star-studded roster of celebrities sitting courtside, the Spurs take pride in their sisters as perhaps the organization’s most famous fans.

As many of you know, Ruth and I have also been long time admirers of nuns. Whenever we run into Sisters out in the wild, we almost always stop to thank them for their years of service.

Maybe it’s because both of us spent so much of our lives in church work. Or maybe it’s because people who devote themselves to serving others tend to radiate a certain kind of joy.

Whatever the reason, we’ve accumulated quite a collection of photos over the years.

Because Sister Bernadette has such solid theology and is a savvy basketball fan as well, I wasn’t surprised when she recently said…

“Whether or not the Spurs are going to win the championship, I have no idea. The Knicks are a great team, too. We’re just praying that everybody plays well and may the best team win.”

In other words, it’s not like anyone believes that their support is going to actually change the outcome, but I do think there is something intriguing about the notion of having people who have some kind of connection to the divine rooting you on.

And here’s the beautiful thing. Christians have actually believed something like this for centuries. We call it…

The Communion of Saints

The Communion of Saints refers to that mysterious bond that connects us with all those who have gone before us in faith.

It is one of Christianity’s more mystical teachings, and I’m not going to pretend I fully understand how it works. But I love what it suggests.

That love doesn’t end. That relationships don’t simply disappear. And that somewhere beyond what we can see, there are saints, grandparents, mentors, friends, and countless others who are still somehow part of the great story God is writing.

And that is my wish for you this week.

That when life feels a little heavy, you might remember that you are not walking through it alone. That there are people who love you, people who believe in you, and perhaps even a few saints in the grandstands of heaven quietly cheering you on.

Not because you’ve won a championship. Not because you’ve got everything figured out. But simply because you are one of God’s beloved children, and they want to see you become all that God created you to be.

And just as important, may this also remind you of the power you have right now to become part of someone else’s cheering section.

You don’t have to be sitting courtside. Sometimes a phone call is enough. Sometimes a handwritten note. Sometimes a smile, an encouraging word, or a simple prayer whispered on someone else’s behalf.

Because one of the holiest things we can do for one another is to keep reminding each other that we’re not alone.

And who knows, if enough of us do that, this old world of ours might actually start feeling a little more like heaven’s home court.

Johnny B ++

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Last weekend Ruth and I attended a high school graduation for our granddaughter, Mia. We couldn’t have been more proud or happy for our lively, joyful, energetic, volleyball-loving, granddaughter.

As I’ve been looking through all the other proud postings by my friends, who also have graduates in their family, I found myself wondering what might be in store for them.

It turns out, I’m not alone in my concern as more and more of these celebrations are beginning to show signs of some of the challenges that await them.

This uneasiness came through loud & clear at the University of Arizona and the University of Central Florida recently when graduates actually booed references to artificial intelligence during commencement speeches by shouting things like “A.I. sucks!”.

What many of us are feeling right now has a name.

Writer Jim Palmer calls it a “Metacrisis”, which is his way of describing how multiple problems are all crashing into each other at the same time.

Climate fears. Political division. Economic stress. Technological change. Loneliness. Information overload. Anxiety about the future.

None of these exist separately anymore.

They overlap, reinforce one another, and leave many people feeling exhausted, distracted, cynical, emotionally numb, or quietly overwhelmed.

The strange thing is that everyday life still looks mostly normal. Grocery stores are open. Planes still fly. Netflix still streams. So it can be difficult to recognize how deeply unsettled people have become beneath the surface.

Palmer suggests that one of the great questions of our time is whether human beings can still learn how to live meaningful, compassionate, fully human lives in the middle of uncertainty.

I think that’s exactly the right question. Because being fully human involves more than survival.

• It means loving despite uncertainty.

• Finding beauty despite impermanence.

• Continuing to care despite vulnerability.

One of the people who seems to understand the importance of that insight is Pope Leo XIV. In his first “Encyclical” he focused on the promise, benefits and risks of A.I.

By calling for ethical safeguards that protect “human dignity, justice and labor” instead of simply maximizing profits, he reminds us that we are not helpless spectators in all of this.

Because I have a tendency to feel all of these, I keep coming back to the four things that are still helping to keep me both grounded & hopeful.

Beginning with faith, this passage from Romans still gives me hope:

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? And who or what can possibly separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors…

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present OR THE FUTURE, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

And if I had one brief message for Mia and the rest of this year’s graduates, it would be simply this…

Spend lots of time with family and friends. Make time to enjoy and stay connected to nature. And finally, find a way to help those in need. Because, as Kate Bowler recently put it…

Though I have a feeling the pace of all this change is going to accelerate even more, I’m also holding tight to a hope that was expressed in an R.E.M. song way back in the 80’s titled…

It’s the End of the World as We Know It

Because even if that does turn out to be true, I believe that by God’s grace there will always be enough wonder, courage, laughter, and love left in the world for us to sing the next line as well...

“And I Feel Fine!”

Johnny B ++

An Invite from one of the Ghosts of Preachers Past

Although I have been retired for just over 3 years now, I sometimes fill in for Pastor Mark when he goes on vacation. And because that includes the next two Sundays, June 7 & 14, if any of you are around on those dates it would be fun to have you join us for worship.

Shepherd of Life Lutheran Church. 715 E. Lamar Blvd. Arlington, Texas with services at 8:30 and 10:00 AM.

I think you would enjoy it. Of course, after serving there for 32 years it’s kind of hard for me to be objective. In fact…

After joking with members about haunting the place after I die, the truth is, there is absolutely nothing in scripture to indicate that the afterlife will include opportunities for any of us to “haunt” our family & friends, even in fun, and that’s why…

I’ve decided to do it now!

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“We don’t control how much time we have, but we do control how intentionally we love people while we are here.”

Andy Rooney was one of those rare public figures who managed to sound like your cranky uncle, your philosophy professor, and the guy at the hardware store all at the same time.

For many people, including me, who grew up watching 60 Minutes on Sunday nights, he was that familiar final voice that came on just when you needed it.

After watching a mostly serious news program filled with war, politics, scandal, and crisis, Andy would provide you with this this remarkable pivot that basically left you feeling like…

“Now, before you panic completely about the state of humanity… Can we talk about why supermarkets rearrange everything just when you finally know where it is?”

Christy Moore… Didn’t you just ask that same question… in 2026?

Looking back, I think part of what made Andy Rooney so comforting was that underneath all the humor, he kept reminding us to pay attention to ordinary life before it slips past us.

Maybe that’s why the 60 Minutes interview I watched this week hit me so deeply. It was with Ben Sasse, the former United States Senator from Nebraska.

You see, like my friend, Jon Cermin, Ben has pancreatic cancer. And yet there he was on television, sitting peacefully and honestly with the truth of his diagnosis, while speaking with the kind of clarity that felt holy.

Like Jon, he was not pretending everything was fine. He was not trying to control the way people would see him. He was simply reflecting on America’s future and the importance of faith, community and family.

One of my fellow pastors, Bob Mooney, who serves Messiah Lutheran Church in Yorba Linda, California, responded to this interview by thoughtfully sharing…

“We do not get to control how much time we have, but we do get to ask what love is calling us to do with the time we have been given. Who is God placing in front of me? Where is love asking me to show up? What relationship needs tending? What burden can I help carry? What act of grace can I offer?”

And then, almost without realizing it, I experienced exactly what Ben Sasse and Pastor Bob were talking about.

This is Don Hardaway and his wife Betty. In the 1990s they were members at the church I served here in Texas. In fact, Betty was our very first woman president and they both had fascinating careers in the criminal justice system.

Don served as Chief of U.S. Probation and Pretrial Services for the Northern District of Texas. Meanwhile, Betty spent a part of her career overseeing the Federal Prison Medical Center for Women in Fort Worth.

Although Don is a native Texan, they are currently enjoying retirement in Betty’s home state… Hawaii. Now, it’s been said that…

And I wanted to introduce this deeply spiritual couple to you because just this week Don quietly lived out the wisdom of that truth through a simple act of generosity and remembrance… and I was the one who was blessed because of it.

Here’s what he did… After reading one of my recent columns, which included my love for Norman Rockwell, he mailed me the following book.

Apparently, Don’s mother, who was also an artist, had a fondness for Rockwell and left it to him. For years he has enjoyed this wonderful keepsake from her which also includes fascinating insights about each painting. And now, I too have been given the opportunity to go through them slowly, like a weekly devotion.

(By the way Don, I hope you noticed the shirt I dug out for my “Proof of Delivery” photo. I wore it in honor of all the tall tales you used to share about your rabbit… Bigfoot Wallace!)

I know you’re busy, but I hope you’ll be able to find time to watch the interview below. Ben Sasse talks honestly about the reality that he may not live long enough to walk his daughters down the aisle someday.

Which may be exactly why ordinary acts of love matter so much.

• A phone call.

• A handwritten letter.

• A treasured book passed from one friend to another.

• A keepsake shared before it simply becomes “stuff.”

Maybe Andy Rooney understood that better than we realized. Beneath all the humor and observations about grocery stores and daily life, he seemed to know that the real beauty of life is usually hidden inside ordinary moments and ordinary people.

So perhaps this week is a good week to reach out to someone. To reconnect. To encourage. To pass along a story, a memory, or a small gift that says: “I was thinking about you.”

Because while none of us can stop time from moving forward, we can still choose what kind of love we leave behind.

Johnny B ++

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“I may not always love you, but long as there are stars above you, God only knows what I’d be without you.” (The Beach Boys)

Last Sunday we began our Mother’s Day worship with a baptism. Afterward, Pastor Mark continued a beloved tradition at Shepherd of Life by giving the family a small blue lamb.

It comes from our stained-glass window depicting Psalm 23 where Jesus the Good Shepherd is holding a blue lamb in his arms.

We’ve always loved that image because grace has never felt black and white to us. The blue lamb reminds us that God’s loves seems especially drawn toward the unique, odd, quirky and beautifully unrepeatable people He created.

The older I get the more I realize just how true that is. There’s a strange little freedom that arrives with aging. Somewhere along the line, many of us simply get tired of needing the approval of strangers.

You start wearing the T-shirt with the goofy saying. You laugh more. You admit you love old music, corny jokes and having daily conversations with your cat.

Maybe that’s one of the hidden gifts we can give to each other. Permission to simply be ourselves.

To give you an example of what I sometimes call “Spiritual Mischief”. Here’s one of my latest efforts….

WALK UP SONGS

While recovering from knee surgery, I recently went to cheer on my softball team. What I didn’t tell them is the day before I carefully curated walkup songs for every player.

Rich, our only player from New York, walked up to Frank Sinatra singing: “Start spreading the news”. Jerry, one of the song leaders at his church got “Oh Happy Day”.

I even selected songs for opposing players, including “Why Me Lord” and “Mama Told Me Not to Come”.

What song would you choose for yourself? And what are one or two of the places you will be going to this week that would be a hoot for it to start magically playing as you enter?

I know it’s impractical, but part of me would love to do this for some of you. For instance, as you enter our local Y, I could play “Eye of the Tiger”. Plus, I would be more than happy to supply an entire playlist for the greeters at our church to use the moment some of you get to that front patio.

I would love to hear an example of someone you know who embodies the message of that little blue lamb. For instance, as I was watching that baptism last Sunday I thought of the Wolz family. A family blessed with an abundance of faith, humor, chaos and love.

Over the years, our connection has included the joy of officiating at John and Andrea’s wedding and baptizing their twin girls, Molly and Madison. Looking back on the years Andrea and I worked together, I can still remember the day that she and Mark and Jonathan all did cartwheels. I don’t have a clue what our meeting was about, but I’ll never forget that!

And whenever John and I share the ups and downs of life in a blended family, we both agree: Faith, Love & an abundance of Humor is definitely helpful! That led me to thinking…

Wouldn’t it be great if our willingness to openly share our own odd, quirky but authentic efforts to love each other could help our young people to get there long before we started figuring it out.

God Only Knows

This I do know, what happened next still feels like one of those gifts that sometimes drops down from heaven itself, at exactly the right time.

It came in the form of a song that was sung by a Boys’ Choir from England. And though I was familiar with the song, I had never heard it sung like this! If you have a moment, it will make your day.

The song they chose for their performance on “Britain’s Got Talent” was a Beach Boys song that you will probably remember as well. “God Only Knows”.

Even the original had an aching tenderness to it, but when you hear it sung by these young voices, it sounds less like a pop song and more like a hymn.

As I’ve been humming it these past few days, it also inspired me to think about all the different ways that God has blessed my life. For instance…

God only knows what I would be… without my faith, without Ruth, without my family and without my friends.

As you think about some of the blessings in your life, maybe one of the best ways for you to bless the world in return is by showing everyone that it’s not only okay, but a part of sacred our journey to become the uniquely odd, quirky and beautifully unrepeatable person God created you to be. Because…

God only knows what the world would be without you!

Johnny B ++

IN MEMORIAM

And speaking of people whose presence quietly blesses others. This is Don Rawe and his wife Carol.

In my little corner of the pickleball universe, Don is “The Guy”. The warm and friendly connecter who sends out invitations week after week to see who might be available and interested in getting together. Then, he follows through by reserving the courts and greeting people as they arrive.

I was hoping some of you might join me in lifting Don up in one of your prayers this week. A few days ago, his beloved wife Carol unexpectedly passed away following complications from surgery.

It wasn’t written as a hymn, but because this song accidentally became one for me, it somehow felt right to dedicate it to her, along with my hope that God’s grace will continue to help all of us to become more ourselves.

Peace ++

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On most days Ruth is seen as the beloved matriarch of our messy, fun loving, blended family. And though we appreciate the countless reasons she has always been the spiritual glue that holds us together through all the ups and downs of life, she’s a lot more than that.

And as much as this may sound like the beginning of a love letter to Ruth, the truth is there is an entire constellation of other shining starts I’ve come to appreciate more and more with each passing year.

On the day Ruth and I were having lunch together at the Tipsy Oak I felt like the luckiest guy on the patio. I’ll admit to loving her hair, which has always been both wild and free. You can see why the woman who cuts it calls it “Boom Boom” hair.

But it’s not just that, her eyes have always had this beguiling combination of both warmth and mischief, along with the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’ve just been let in on something good.

Although she has always had this easy going, live and let live spirit, those who love her also know, she absolutely hates being pressured or told what to do.

When we were dating, over 40 years ago now, a lot of people told her that getting too serious with me would be a mistake. I’m still glad she didn’t listen.

Whenever I come across pictures of our younger days it can still take my breath away, and not because I miss that version of her but because I still recognize her in it.

Today, she is lovelier than ever. The laughter is still quick. The kindness is still there, and so is that irreverent rebel.

And I am glad to say, she is not alone!

Following our wedding, Ruth and I squeezed the last of our belongings into our car and began the drive from Las Vegas to our new home in Simi Valley, California. Of course, our new home was actually a parsonage, which belonged to the church, but we were still excited to begin our first new chapter together.

One of the first people she met was Cathy. Cathy was the Director of the Preschool at the church we were both serving and they soon became good friends.

Cathy is every bit as impressive and captivating as Ruth. In a lot of ways they are very different from each other, but in some of the most important ways, they are like sisters.

They are both resilient. They both laugh easily. And they have both figured out to survive life’s sorrows without losing their joy. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.

I’m also glad to say…. They’re not alone! Because if you spend any time around them, you begin to notice something else, this kind of spirit rarely travels alone.

Meet the Sunflowers!

They’re smart. They’re funny. And though they have given themselves a name that sounds a bit light and airy, they often spend their lunches talking about everything from politics to current events, to the people they know who could use their help and prayers too.

They have a lot of fun together and when they laugh it’s often the kind that turns heads two tables over. But if you listen closely, you’ll also be able to hear equal parts mischief and wisdom bouncing around the table.

To all my fellow guys out there, I wish I knew their secret, because over the years I’ve noticed how more and more of us are getting a bit grumpier and even depressed. And to be perfectly honest with you, there are days when I worry about that happening to me.

That’s just one of the reasons why I am so thankful for Ruth and her friends and all the other ladies in my life right now. Because I’m turning 70 this year, most of them are also getting older, but you know what? I’m a huge fan!

They have moxie, confidence, charisma, whimsy, sass, you name it. I see it every week! At church, at my local Y, on the pickleball courts, the softball fields and at home. And most impressive of all… I can’t think of a single one who feels sorry for herself.

You don’t need me to lay out all the different ways that our youth obsessed culture can make them feel invisible, but on this Mother’s Day, I would like to point out….

You don’t have to be a mother to think of what made your own mother beautiful, both inside and out. As Roger Rosenblatt recently put it…

Plus, you don’t have to be a mother in order to honor and give thanks for all the other women you know right now who in their own unique way are helping to make this world of ours a better, kinder, wiser place for us all.

And so to all of them, which includes many of you: Thank you! Thank you for showing us what grit and humor and endurance looks like. And thank you for showing us the kind of love that refuses to fade.

To paraphrase Paul Simon: I couldn’t be happier or more grateful that you are…. Still radiant. Still radiant. Still Radiant… After all these years!

And Maybe… Now More Than Ever!

Johnny B ++

ENDNOTE

Apologies to Judy for using one of the Sunflower pics when you were unavailable. They tell me you were on some kind of “Mission” but it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve told me a whopper!

And on a personal note

A great big thanks for all the support I’ve received this week following my knee surgery. In addition to the phone calls and messages, we also received some amazing treats. Most of all, we’ve appreciated your prayers. My recovery has been progressing along slowly but surely.

Right now I’m still walking like Walter Brennan

And if you’ve forgotten how funny that looks, treat yourself to this clip from Rio Bravo. Ruth has been doing most of the heavy lifting, but here’s the good news, if we should suddenly find ourselves in a gunfight, I’ve also been practicing my Walter Brennan lines…

“I brung ye some dynee mite!”

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First of all, I just love this picture… for all kinds of reasons. Hope all is going well for you, but if life has taken a few swings at you lately, may you as well hold your own.

In the meantime, (while waiting to see the principal) I’d love to have you ponder with me for a few moments about the kind of art we like and why. And who knows, it might even nudge us beyond some of our usual assumptions.

For instance, for the longest time, whenever I heard the word “masterpiece,” I usually pictured something behind glass, paintings like the Mona Lisa or Starry Night, the kind that often requires a ticket.

But lately, I’ve started to wonder if some of the truest masterpieces don’t require either.

I was reminded of that the other day when I posted a question online asking my friends if they had a favorite painting or artist they would be willing to share. And the responses were fascinating.

Terra mentioned Caravaggio, Lori described how she likes to collect paintings from the local artists at the places they have visited, and Connie shared a framed painting they have hanging that was done by her daughter.

Here’s a sampling of a few others, along with what struck me most. It wasn’t just the variety, it was how personal each choice was. Not just what people saw, but why it mattered.

• Jean Lien: “My favorite artist is Mark Rothko. I have a couple of his prints and every time Lauren and Matt come for a visit Matt turns one of them upside down to see how long it takes me to notice.”

• Christy Moore: “I love Monet. We saw Water Lillies in Paris. It is amazing.”

• Rebekah Chojnacki: One of my favorite paintings is called “Judith Beheading Holofernes”, which was inspired by the Book of Judith, and depicts the moment when a beautiful Jewish widow seduces and then decapitates the invading Assyrian general Holofernes with his own sword to save her city.”

• Cathy Racette: “Keith Haring. He doesn’t require any deep thinking. Just goofy people and animals doing the happy dance.”

As for me, I’ve always had a soft spot for Norman Rockwell. Some of you may still remember the paintings that the Saturday Evening Post used to put on the cover of their magazine.

Though some critics dismissed his work as sentimental, what many of us recognized was something else entirely. These weren’t just paintings, they were more like mirrors.

To give you an example of what I mean, last Sunday, as our congregation was getting ready for communion, I noticed one of them unfolding right in front of me.

A father by the name of Chris, along with his young son Will, had just reached the communion rail. As Pastor Mark approached with the bread, Will ducked behind his father, hiding with a kind of playful defiance.

I still remember well how often kids did that to me, and so I took a quick photo thinking Chris & Laura would enjoy it. Meanwhile, what Will didn’t realize was that his mother was serving communion that morning, just a step behind, offering the wine.

He popped out from behind his dad like a jack-in-the-box, arms stretching wide across the rail, reaching for her with complete abandon. No hesitation and no hiding, just recognition, trust & love all wrapped up in one spontaneous movement.

It immediately reminded me of one of those classic Rockwell scenes. Sort of like the one with the nervous kid in a doctor’s office, pants slipping just enough to tell the whole story.

It was their moment…. But it was also something more.

One of those glimpses where life leans toward art and whispers: “See? I’m still doing this.”

Rockwell didn’t invent those moments. He simply paid attention to them. And maybe that’s the invitation for us.

Not to recreate some idealized past, but to recognize the grace woven into the present. To notice the small, unscripted scenes that carry more meaning than we often give them credit for.

Because if we look closely enough, we may begin to see that those warm, familiar images we thought belonged to another time are still unfolding all around us.

Not framed in oil and canvas, but in laughter, kindness, memory and love.

Johnny B ++

On A Personal Note

Today I’m hoping my surgeon’s efforts on Friday turned out to be one of HIS finest masterpieces.

He did arthroscopic surgery on my knee for a torn meniscus and I have my fingers crossed it helps. But even now, I already know how lucky I am to have someone like Ruth providing me with the blessings described in this one last masterpiece.

Ain’t that the truth!

Hang tough my friends, hope to feel well enough to send you something next Sunday. Meanwhile, have a great week!

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“Laughter is carbonated holiness” (Anne Lamott)

That’s our youngest granddaughter, Koehler. At sixteen, her moods remain one of life’s greatest mysteries, but when she laughs, we all do.

When’s the last time you had some good old-fashioned fun… even when life wasn’t particularly easy? Maybe it was goofing around with family. Maybe exploring somewhere new.

Whatever it was, I’m guessing you laughed, you smiled, the world’s woes loosened their grip on you, and afterward, you felt just a bit more alive.

Lately, I’ve been listening to an author who understands this deeply, Kate Bowler.

Kate is a professor at Duke Divinity School who, after being diagnosed with Stage IV cancer at 35, became a wise and honest voice about how it’s still possible to find meaning and even joy during the hardest parts of life.

If you enjoy an occasional podcast, I think you would enjoy listening to her and her guests on “Everything Happens”. One of her hard-earned insights goes like this…

Life is so beautiful and life is so hard. For everyone. And while we can’t always be happy, we can be “Joyful Anyway.”

That idea, “Joyful Anyway”, has long been an important part of my own approach to life. Plus, forty years of ministry gave me plenty of opportunities to put it to the test.

Just the other day I was looking through some old photos from a Palm Sunday service I led a few years back. Even though it marked the beginning of Holy Week, I thought it might be fun to try out this cool idea I came across…

What if we really did offer people a “Palm Sundae” after the service, on one condition, we would place it directly on their palm? To my delight, people were all in.

For a few sticky, slightly ridiculous minutes, nobody was fixing their life or solving the world’s problems. They were just laughing, while receiving joy right in the palm of their hand.

Unfortunately, we’ve often been taught that joy should be postponed. Saved for later. Reserved for when things improve or when we finally get our act together.

But if you think about it, joy has this tendency of showing up more like a gift than a reward and as a surprise more than a conclusion.

And sometimes, it even shows up in the middle of the mess.

Shortly after moving to Texas, Shirley Haliburton, helped to get us backstage at Billy Bobs in order to meet Willie Nelson. Ruth and I have been long time fans and it was a thrill for both of us.

Over the years Willie has covered a lot of the classics. The album “Stardust” is filled with them. One of my favorites is a song called “Accentuate the Positive”. It’s over 80 years old now but some of you may still recognize it from the refrain…

Who knows, maybe it sounded quaint even when it first came out, but then again, maybe this is what “Joyful Anyway” looks like…

• To accentuate the positive: not by ignoring reality, but by choosing where to place your attention.

• To eliminate the negative: not by pretending it isn’t there, but by refusing to let it have the final word.

• To latch on to the affirmative: even if it’s something small.

And then that last curious line: “Don’t mess with Mister In-Between.”

In other words, we don’t have to live HALF HEARTEDLY.

As many of you know from your own experience, life often has a way of rearranging our plans, and with wars still unfolding and headlines that continue to feel overwhelmingly negative, sometimes we just need someone to show us it’s still possible!

That’s one of the reasons I wanted to share Willie’s version with you today. Because, even though this song was covered by a lot of different singers, when Willie sings it, it carries a little dust, and a little wear, sort of like a well-traveled guitar.

Plus, as some of you may know, Willie has faced his own share of storms along the way, including financial troubles, that nearly took everything, brushes with the law, and the kind of personal losses that don’t make headlines but always leaves a scar.

And yet, at the age of 92, Willie is still touring and still performing his classic hits. Even more impressive to me is the fact that he’s going to release another brand new album in May.

Given all of his recent health concerns, I’m somewhat in awe of all this, but I don’t think he’s in denial. He’s just doing what he’s always done… Choosing joy, and doing it with a spirit of fun, he’s even been calling this year’s tour “One Last Ride”.

That’s why when Willie sings about eliminating the negative, it doesn’t sound naïve, it sounds practiced. Like a man who’s looked trouble in the eye and decided, again and again, not to let it have the last word.

Give it a listen. And maybe, regardless of what life hands you this week… You too can be Joyful Anyway.

Johnny B ++

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“O beautiful for PATRIOT DREAM that sees beyond the years. Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, confirm thy soul in self control, thy liberty in law.”

“I do love my country, damn it.” (Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber)

You know we are living in crazy times when pastors feel the need to include a little well-placed profanity while expressing their patriotism. Then again, maybe that’s exactly what these times call for, something honest, a little raw, and not overly polished.

There is a lot of noise out there right now. Strong opinions. Stronger accusations. And more than a little concern, especially now, when you can suddenly come under heavy criticism for simply reminding people about our calling to be peacemakers.

It doesn’t take much these days for people to get worked up, which is why I’d love for the good Lord to start doing whatever it takes these days to help us mend even a few of these “flaws”.

And while you’re at it Lord, I could use a little extra help too. Because, the truth is, I too have been guilty of doing my own fair share of blaming and cussing and worrying… And yes, whining.

But then I find myself thinking about a trip I took years ago.

Back in 1996, I led a group from our church here in Texas to Germany. We were there mostly to walk in the footsteps of Martin Luther, but we also visited Dachau… and Checkpoint Charlie.

Those stops hit a little closer to home because two of the men traveling with us, Ralph Alley and Al Kennedy, had lived through a different chapter of history.

Both had fought in World War II. Both had survived years as prisoners of war. And in the life of our church, both of them were known as kind, steady, faithful men.

That was 30 years ago now, but I don’t think any of us have ever forgotten that rainy day we walked around Dachau while hearing the stories of what took place at these notorious concentration camps.

I can also still picture us sitting together that evening as Al and Ralph quietly shared pieces of their story. No grand speeches. Just a simple, steady witness. And what stayed with me most was this…

Over the years, I’ve come to realize that when I am in need of some inspiration or a reminder of what courage and perseverance and sacrifice looks like, I don’t spend much time looking to political leaders.

I think about people like Al and Ralph

I think about the hot peppers Ralph grew and how he would always make sure to bring Ruth a bag. I think about the family cabin Al would let me use for our church’s youth retreats.

Ordinary kindnesses from men who had endured extraordinary hardship.

They’re the kind of memories that still have the power to stop me from whining so much and to keep on doing what I can, in my own small way, as part of this ongoing struggle for the soul of our country.

If you could use a little extra courage or perseverance this week, then perhaps this can also serve as a reminder that this is not the kind of fight that any of us can win alone.

We need each other. We need quiet examples of courage and hope. And most of all, we need the kind of people who can remind us, without ever saying a word, that love of country is less about shouting and more about showing up.

It isn’t just something we declare. It’s something we live. Often in small ways. Often without recognition. And almost always in the company of others.

Come to think of it, that’s probably why Bob Hope always ended his USO shows with a little song he sang. He often changed the words for the occasion but it always sounded like a Benediction. I’m no singer, but to Al & Ralph and you as well…

“Thanks for the memories, Of everything we shared, The laughter and the tears, The dreams that linger through the years… That’s why we’re here.”

Johnny B ++

PS

As our country approaches its 250th Anniversary, maybe this can be a moment, not just for celebrating, but also for some heart felt soul-searching.

To mark the occasion I’ve been working on a sermon that I hope to share this summer with any congregation willing to have me. The goal would be to simply remind us of how our faith can help all of us to heal not only our own lives, but maybe even our nation.

I bet Pope Leo could offer a few tips. Ha!

I’ve also added the following song to my playlist. In response to some of the ongoing divisions we’ve all experienced, Tim McGraw released a song a couple of years ago called “People Like Us”.

He said he hoped it would remind us that, at our core, we’re all connected by the same hopes & dreams and struggles. It does Tim. It still does. Thanks!

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