contented sunrise

Clouds, Coffee, and Contentment

On our last morning at sea, I watched a sunrise break through gray skies while an older couple walked by hand in hand. That simple scene broke through me. Back in our cabin, Becky and I shared coffee as the world began moving again. We ate a fancy brunch that felt both absurd and perfect—soups poured with flair, fruit towers, steak plated like crown jewels. Yet all I thought about were the pancakes we fed our kids twenty years ago. I’ve learned contentment grows in welcoming what’s present—not chasing some bigger, grander image of happiness.

The Servant’s Heart: Gratitude in Action

Looking back at a photo of Kyle Field during the pandemic, I was reminded of how often ordinary people are called to extraordinary service. Teachers masked up, doctors worked endless shifts, and countless quiet acts of love carried us through uncertain days. Servanthood rarely looks heroic—it’s usually disguised as persistence, sacrifice, or care. I see it most clearly in Becky, whose tireless devotion in both small and large ways embodies what Jesus modeled when He washed His disciples’ feet. Gratitude isn’t only about receiving blessings—it’s about honoring the love and service that make them possible.

graduates together

One Last Lesson Before You Go

The last day of school is loud with relief—teachers and students alike ready to bolt for the door. But for me, that walk to the car is never simple. Each year, I feel the pull of goodbye, knowing many students I’ve poured into will disappear from my life. What do you say in a yearbook line when what you really want is to hand them a compass? Over time, I’ve realized the best lesson isn’t clever advice—it’s reminding them that joy, courage, and kindness outlast possessions. That’s the message I’d stamp in every heart, if I could.