It doesn't take much for me to cry: Hallmark commercials, a country song about a boy and his grandpa, a hand-written note from a beloved friend that speaks encouragement and life into a mundane moment. I have felt things deeply my whole life, and those feelings often spill over into a cascading waterfall of tears. I used to hate that. I hate that when I cry, I usually cannot speak. It can be so frustrating.

Our brains are hard-wired to focus on the negative. Early in human history, this tendency was essential to our survival. This predisposition serves a critical function: it prompts us to take action and problem-solve. Negatively salient stimuli inevitably draw our eyes and capture our attention. Focusing on the negative is a natural inclination, but one that we are called to resist when our life is not at risk.

I remember how nervous I was proposing to my now wife. My concern wasn't because I thought her answer swung in the balance (after all, I'm quite a catch...I kid, I kid). It had everything to do with making it a memorable moment, and plans going smoothly…

I'm not much for conspiracy theories, but I do believe my smartphone listens in on my conversations. I've lost count of how many times this has happened: I'll be talking about something random with friends and the next time I scroll through social media or…

Go with me for a minute to middle school summer camp. As your heart races, you walk to the edge of the diving board. Feeling 100 feet in the air, you're short of breath and unsure. What if you pass out and fall off the board? Your feet are slipping. You turn around, thinking you cannot possibly do this; you'd rather face embarrassment…

I have a lovely friend who loves to give gifts. She believes that every situation is a gift-giving opportunity. I don't just mean on your birthday or anniversary; she would bring a gift simply because it was Tuesday and the sun was shining. Her heart delights in watching her friends' faces light up when she walks into their house, and she always says, "I picked up a little something for you." I treasure every gift she has ever given me and love them all. Whenever she goes into a store and sees something that reminds her of me, she thinks about how well she knows me and the things I like.

Jealousy is a gnarly disease. In the age of social media, jealousy has run especially rampant. I don’t have to scroll through Instagram for long before I lose all sense of gratitude for the life I lead. Within minutes, I’m overcome with envy. My focus shifts from all that God has given me to what I lack. When jealousy consumes my heart, it leaves little room for praise and gratitude. Instead of delighting in the Lord, I pout because I’m not on some whirlwind backpacking trip through Europe or sailing on a boat through the Bahamas.

I'm a guy, and I cry every time I watch The Notebook. There I said it. I'm glad I finally got that secret off my chest. I know there will be some who demand I turn in my Man Card on the spot for showing emotion, especially for a "chick flick." But, the love story moved me...well, to tears…

A few years back, my wife and I were talking to our oldest daughter Madison at the dinner table when the topic of boys came up. She grinned and reminded both of us that she was now sixteen and that our archaic dating rule had now expired…

“First of all, keep him out of the light, he hates bright light, especially sunlight, it’ll kill him. Second, don’t give him any water, not even to drink. But the most important rule, the rule you can never forget, no matter how much he cries, no matter how much he begs, never feed him after midnight.”

We don’t often confront or acknowledge the way we devalue marginalized groups. In today’s world, treating certain populations as if they are less than human is all too normalized. We are hardly conscious of the way we fail to respect and dignify so many of God’s beloved children.

What do you delight in the most? What is your primary source of pleasure? These are critical questions to ask—the answers reveal who or what directs our decisions and defines our identity. Humans crave pleasure, and we often orient our lives in pursuit of it. The source of our delight is often the first thing we think of when we wake up and the last thing we think about before we go to sleep. The source of our joy is the thing we bow down to and serve. When we reflect and name the chief provider of our pleasure, we see if we are placing God at the center of our lives or remaining loyal to our idols.

God invites us to taste and see that He is good. Other parts of Scripture compare reading God's Word to the delightful taste of honey. During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus promises those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will find themselves filled.

As a child of the '60s and '70s, I had all the best, especially the music (sorry, Mike, but it was far superior to the '80s). The neighborhood kids played after school until dark - roller-bat, kickball, football, riding bikes, and skateboards. Summer was filled with sprinklers and putting baby oil on us as we lay in the sun with our radios blasting and the kitchen timers on to tell us when to turn over for the most even tan. Of course, Sun-in sprayed on our hair, which turned your hair orange if you had dark hair like mine, but we were part of a do-your-thing generation, so I was too cool to care.

As my husband and I have gotten more settled in our careers and our kids have gotten older and more connected with friends and activities, this idea seems more and more like a faraway dream. It looks like a grand idea that will likely never come to fruition, and there are days when that feels very daunting. There are days where I think I should fight for what I want. Sometimes I'm tempted to settle on the idea that I have a right to my desires.

Over the course of my faith journey, my relationship with conviction has been a complicated one. For far too long, I bought into the lie that conviction was God’s way of slapping me on the wrist and shaming me for not being good enough. When I messed up, I was afraid to come into God’s presence. Spending time with Him felt like swimming in a pool of guilt and self-defeat. I left time with God feeling ashamed and burdened, rather than light and free.

If I’m honest, I think several things I want to happen in my life are impossible. At the very least, the chance of them occurring is highly improbable. As a result, I have given up faith that certain circumstances in my world can be transformed, redeemed, or resolved. However, I cannot help but think that God has given me a deep yearning for these “impossible” things to happen for a reason.

I recently talked to my kids about freedom in Christ, and it hit me how abstract this concept is for me as an adult, let alone a child. But if my 4-year-old can learn about volcanoes on Mars in preschool, I figured why not give painting a picture about freedom a shot? Even with my best explanations, this complex concept seemed just out of their reach. When I asked what it means to be free, they said, "you can do whatever you want, or it doesn't cost you anything." Both were honest answers and, for me, interesting thoughts to process.

My parents have jumped headfirst into retirement. From traveling all over the place to trying out new hobbies, they truly are living their "best life yet." These social butterflies are thriving. Every day is an adventure for them, thanks to the calendar they got for Christmas…

I remember how nervous I was proposing to my now wife. My concern wasn't because I thought her answer swung in the balance (after all, I'm quite a catch...I kid, I kid). Instead, it had everything to do with making it a memorable moment and smoothly planned…