Back in the early eighties there was a popular song titled “1999”. Even if you’re not a Prince fan you’ve probably heard the song. There’s a good chance that you’ve even sung along or hummed the catchy hook, “Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1999”.

When that song came out the year 1999 seemed like an eternity away… now that year that seemed like a millennium in the future is close to half a lifetime behind me.

Time is a peculiar thing. We wish it away as children and try to hoard every last drop as adults. But much like trying to lasso the air, time is mostly beyond our control.

Even further back in time, and what seemed like another eternity between the early 70’s and the pop music of the early 80’s, only nine years before the Prince song hit the charts, there was a song about time. That song was sung by a guy named Jim Croce.

image courtesy of cat45.com

Croce’s “Time in a Bottle” was included on the album “You Don’t Mess Around with Jim”. It was released in April of 1972. My years on this planet at that time was still being measured in single digits.

On September 20th 1973 Jim Croce’s time on this earth ended.

I recall as a kid listening and pondering that song. By the time it was released as a single the singer/songwriter was deceased.

“But there never seems to be enough time

To do the things you want to do

Once you find them…

I’ve looked around enough to know

That you’re the one I want to go

Through time with…”

What a wonderful love song… but in the end the writer’s greatest desire ended less than a year and a half later. He wasn’t going through time with the one he had in mind when he penned the song.

Before those catchy secular songs hit the airwaves I heard James 4:14, “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”

I got the meaning of the verse back then… but not nearly as deeply as I do today…

Time is a gift. We don’t get to choose the amount of days we’re given. God knows the number of sunrises and sunsets we’re allotted. In the end no one stays in this dimension forever.

Jim Croce and Prince are gone. So are many of our loved ones. And as another year rolls around it’s a good time to ponder the limited number of days we all get.

In the end one could argue that the purpose of this life is simply to choose where we’re going to spend eternity. And that verse from the Good Book is sounding more wise as the years stack up.

I pray you and your loved ones a blessed year in 2019. I pray that you and them would know the Truth that calls to our hearts throughout our lives… every single year.

Happy New Year!!!

Oh, and I hope you’ve gained enough wisdom to not party like it’s 1999.


It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. That means a lot of different things, not the most important one being I need to start getting some Christmas shopping done.

The Christmas season has it’s own set of generic questions. The ones I hear the most are, “You staying home for Christmas?”

“Hanging out with your family this Christmas?”

“What’s on the menu for Christmas dinner?”

“You got all your shopping done?” (Yes, the people I rub elbows with don’t have the finest of grammar… then again, neither do I when it comes to talkin’…)

I have my generic answers too; “Yeah, stayin’ close to home.” – “Yeah, the kids are coming over.” – “Italian – it’s our family tradition.”

And my favorite answer to the generic holiday question of having my shopping done, “Not yet, I don’t wanna rush into anything,” I chuckle, usually by myself. I’m not near as amusing as think I am…

Then there are the Christmas complaints; “The traffic is horrible.”

“I hate this time of year, people are so rude, especially in parking lots.” I usually nod, ’cause folks are vicious animals in parking lots this time of year.

“I’m scaling back this Christmas,” but few seldom do.

But the first Christmas complaint starts way back in October when stores and a few radio stations start playing Christmas music before Halloween… I’m in a grumbling agreement.

Since I don’t frequent stores too often and I have satellite radio in my truck, I can navigate my way around Christmas music till I’m good and ready to hear it.

Since this Christmas season snuck on me, and most of you, I haven’t heard but a couple of Christmas songs. I’ve only heard one of my old favorites so far this year; “Come Home For Christmas” by the Eagles.

Of all the Christmas songs that I look forward to hearing around Christmas time, my all time favorite is “The Little Drummer Boy”, by Bob Seger. I never thought much of the song as a kid, but words were wasted on the young.

Christmas image courtesy of youtube

I believe that everyone has a God given gift. And I also think that the gifts He’s given us, if used in the proper way, bring Him joy. I love that part of the song that goes, “Then HE smiled at me Puh-Rum-Puh-Pum-Pum… me and my drum.”

The thought of God smiling down upon His children brings me a great peace and warmth in my soul.

May we all use our gift this year to bring a smile to the face of our Father. And may He bless you and your’s and I pray you have a very Merry Christmas.


My eyes popped open suddenly. It was pitch black, the dead of morning. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand with the giant red digital letters. It was hours before there would be any sign of sunlight. I had more to do than I could get done in a day, regardless of how early I got started. It’s easy to get so busy that we can’t feel the magic of Christmas. 

It’s nine days before Christmas, which doesn’t seem possible, and I haven’t sniffed the idea of getting around to Christmas shopping. We haven’t even finished decorating the Christmas tree. 

I’m long past due for a haircut and I don’t think I’ve got my truck washed but once this year… and it was a long time ago now. When you’re busy you gotta pick your priorities. 

When we get busy it’s easy to forget about the things that we should value the most. Losing sight of the finest things in life comes far too easy when life gets busy and we get distracted.

Our Christmas party was last night…  A lot of the people I haven’t seen in a year, since the last Christmas party. There are new faces. And some of the folks, like myself, are the older faces… and another year shows on most of us…

I never thought I’d have to fight to get in the Christmas spirit, to feel the “Magic of Christmas”, but with each chapter of life comes new challenges. 

One of the men at the party last night was diagnosed with cancer and the doctors gave him about three to six months to live… that was a year and a half ago. He’s beating the odds and cancer, but the fight has taken its toll. 

It’s easy to be in the Christmas spirit when you’re a kid. It’s easy to be in the spirit when your kids are young or even older but still at home, but not so easy after…

“Be still and know that I AM GOD.” 

Days like to today I’m reminded that I need to slow down and take some time to contemplate that Psalm. To count my blessings. To see that this earth does indeed declare His majesty. And to feel His spirit in me and acknowledge the sacrifice and grace in which I’m washed. 

Having done that… it’s impossible to not feel the Magic of Christmas. The beauty of age is that the magic no longer comes from the outside, It comes from within…

the magic of Christmas
image courtesy of Wikipedia


It’s a fine line between passionate and crazy. Some people use words like “intense” or “obsessive” to describe the over the top types. Generally speaking, I like those type of people… Then again we all tend to be drawn to the folks with our same tendencies.

It’s Sunday morning as I tap the keypad. This will be the only few minutes I get today not going a hundred miles an hour trying to accomplish in one day what physically can’t be done. I’m sipping, well gulping, coffee as I make my list of supplies I’ll need for the day. It won’t matter. Something always comes up short or missing so I’ll make more than a couple trips to the hardware store.

It’s early and chilly outside. There’s a snapping cool breeze blowing off the Pacific, the kind that turns your cheeks cherry red in short order. It’s beautiful, captivating. It’s good to take the time to be in awe of God’s creation. Those waves are awesome and vicious.

There’s a lot of people that live by the edge of the ocean. It’s downright crowded with folks. But of all the people that live close to the salt water only a handful of them come to the beach early. But these aren’t sun bathers. This group of crazies aren’t sitting on the high tide beach in the shade of the Southern California cliffs.

These are the folks that the Beach Boys used to sing about. These are surfers.

It’s forty seven degrees right now… and these guys are surfing…

In the dead of summertime, when I’m desperately hot, I’ll wade into the ocean… slowly. The locals say it’s like bathwater. It still feels like freshly melted icebergs to me…

Crazy surfers on a chilly 47 degree morning.

As I watch this group of crazies I realize that it’s also a fine line between the best wave to choose.

Life is like that in almost every aspect of it; it’s a fine line between everything.

I didn’t eat but once till late yesterday. My guess is that when it came time to eat I crossed over that fine line of eating enough into gluttony… maybe not… only God knows.

I’m a workaholic… Got it honestly from my dad. The difference is he was doing it out of necessity. I tend to push hard, do too much, and I allow it to define me. At some point I cruise past the fine line of working to provide and begin to make it the priority… instead of honoring the One who provides it…

A lot of people with different bends and priorities have tossed the crazy word at me over the years. My guess is that they too have a crazy bend or bone too, just different, that’s all.

I think it brings God pleasure to see us do what it is that He gifted us to. The problem, of course, is when those gifts come to define us and dominate our lives.

Since that fine line can’t be found with our flesh it’s easy to miss… when we’re looking with this flesh.



These smart phones are, well, pretty smart. They’re so smart that often for me, and I suspect a lot folks, they’re down right aggravating. Goals are good. I’m all about setting goals and working to achieve them. My busy body smart phone is in the business of getting into my business. Its goals and my goals aren’t always the same.

I was one of the early users of cell phones. Back in the early eighties I had one in my truck. I thought it was pretty smart. The technology allowed for my truck to honk when the phone was ringing and I wasn’t inside it. I’d be on a job site and the horn would start going off like an alarm. Without fail by the time I’d sprint to the truck like a mad man, the phone would quit ringing… Before messaging…

For us old timers cell phones were first for business. I guess that’s why it’s more aggravating for those of us who lived through the evolution of cell phones.

images courtesy of bing.com

My smart Alec phone is so smart it has pre-determined the amount of steps it takes for me to remain healthy. Then, come Sunday, it gives me a summary and grades me like a coach on how my week was.

I’ve been busy lately. And when I get busy that means my smart phone is busy too. For more than a week in a row I was hitting my daily goal of steps, in my phone’s opinion, by around two o’clock in the afternoon. The smart phone goes on to let me know, as if I can’t see the sunlight, that I have plenty of day left to get more steps in. It’s the kind of annoying when someone seems to think there’s a need for them to spell their last name out for you… when it’s Smith…

That night, after being dropped off and after a long day of work and a lot more steps, the restaurant had a forty five minute wait. I was tired, aggravated, not just at my meddling phone, and starvin’. I say it like that when I’m tired and hungry too.

More steps… I miscalculated the distance to the next restaurant. If my smart phone was so smart it should have warned me to wear walking shoes, just in case. By the time I’d clicked off another thousand plus steps in my fancy go to dinner shoes my heels were bleeding.

By the time the mediocre and overpriced dinner was over we walked the rest of the way back… my smart phone wasn’t smart enough to know I was carrying my shoes…

As I was gladly putting my smart phone down for the night it told me I’d clocked almost 15,000 steps. Close to half those steps were up stairs… “But you’re not smart enough to know that,” I told my phone silently.

The next day my goal was to not achieve my daily step goal… but I did anyway.

Goals are good, worthy, but when it’s just physical, our spirit starves…