It’s Christmastime… time for George Bailey and Rudolph and Frosty and John McClane (sure) and Tannenbaums and Macy’s and… of course… baby Jesus and Mary and shepherds and angels.

Shortly after Jesus is born to a virgin girl in an animal stall out behind an inn…

The other day I realized there were a lot of things swirling around in my life.

Things at work, things in my personal life, family, friendships, things in the various things I’m pursuing…

And I couldn’t get a clear sense of what was going on.

Mae Mae, our seven-year-old, wants to learn to play Jingle Bells on the piano. She’s never taken piano lessons and has only a passing knowledge of notes and music theory.

Last week I was on a flight and the older gentleman two seats over from me set his cowboy hat down on the middle seat between us. I looked over at the hat and couldn’t help but admire it.

The hat had seen a lot of weather, action, and years. 

Probably like you, the activities I participate in throughout my waking hours can fall into one of two categories: input and output.

When my sister was in college, she was walking through a grocery store and dropped a penny. She didn’t think much of it and kept walking. A moment later she heard an old man’s voice from behind her. “Oh, miss…”

This morning, I rode a bike to nowhere with Ally Love.

Allow me to clarify…

I woke up at 5:00am in Bellevue, Washington where I’d flown the night prior for work and dragged myself to the hotel gym where, to my delight, I saw they had a Peloton.

A Peloton, if you don’t know, is a super-fancy, ultra-expensive stationary bike with a giant screen. 

Picture a field.

Vast acres of wide open, untouched land.

It’s mostly dirt. Dry, dusty, seemingly uninteresting dirt. Rocks litter the land. Some of the rocks are small and baseball-sized with an inch or two jutting up out of the ground. Other rocks are boulders weighing hundreds of pounds, sticking far enough up so they can be seen from a quarter- mile away. 

This weekend, I’m teaching at a church here in Denver on Anxiety and how to let God guide you through seasons of stress.

This is ironic, because for the last few weeks—to be honest— been in the throes of Anxiety.

In the 1930s, British bandleader Ray Noble wrote a song called “Cherokee.” It’s a fun, jaunty swing tune featuring a simple, upbeat melody. In 1939, Charlie Barnet and His Orchestra recorded “Cherokee,” and it became a hit, reaching number fifteen on the pop charts. 

About 200 years ago, British horticulturalist and botanist Thomas Andrew Knight wanted to know what would happen if you planted a handful of seeds in the ground, but placed them in upside down.

When I was in fourth grade, I dressed up like an old man for Halloween.

The week before, I’d found an incredible old man mask at the store around which I built the costume. That mask was pretty darn lifelike for a kid’s Halloween trinket. It had sags below the eyes, wrinkles around the mouth hole, a ring of fake white hair, and a chrome dome on top. I couldn’t wait to dress up that year.

Last week, we took our five-year-old daughter Bomber to a nearby park so she could learn to ride a bike without training wheels. This was a big moment for her. Riding free, without training wheels, was something she’d seen her older sister doing for the last year and Bomber felt ready. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she knew the result on the other side would be worth it.

When I was in college, I realized I’d gotten really, really out of shape. 

My diet was primarily made up of high-calorie cafeteria food (this being Texas, it was lots of chicken fried steak, chicken fried chicken, and chicken fried brownies) and fast food (often a dozen Taco Cabana tortillas and a bowl of queso). Add to that, my lack of physical activity (no one studies while moving, you sit in a chair, as stationary and sedentary as a CPA).

The other day I was out running and I passed by something beautiful.

Someone who lived in an apartment complex had taken their little outdoor area and decorated it with 14 (I counted) baskets and pots filled with unbelievably vibrant, eye-popping flowers.

For Christmas last year, I received a record player.

I didn’t necessarily want a record player… but since I got my record player, it’s taught me something pretty profound.