For God’s Sake Archive

My wife and I woke this morning to a backyard surprise, a 2-foot hole in our back fence and a 3-foot hole in our side fence.

It seems that one of our local black bears decided that going through our fences was easier than going over them.

My father-in-law celebrated another birthday earlier this month and is now 105 years-old!

Family and friends gathered at his home – yes, he still lives in his own house – to celebrate with him and to reminisce.

Do you remember your first car? Mine was a 1965 Dodge Polaris that had done duty as our family vehicle for years.

After my dad purchased a “new” used car, he said I could have the Dodge if I paid the insurance.

One of the lingering symptoms of my recent bout with COVID is a beard.

For the week-and-a-half that I was stricken, I set up residence on our living room sofa and topping my “not-to-do list” was shaving.

My first achievement for the new year was to get COVID. It first made its presence known with a scratchy throat on Tuesday of that first week.

The next morning, it unpacked its bags for a lengthy stay gifting me with what felt like a deluxe cold, the premium version with all the accessories: cough, congestion, headache, fever. I assumed it was only a bad cold.

My first achievement for the new year was to get COVID. It first made its presence known with a scratchy throat on Tuesday of that first week.

The next morning, it unpacked its bags for a lengthy stay gifting me with what felt like a deluxe cold, the premium version with all the accessories: cough, congestion, headache, fever. I assumed it was only a bad cold.

My wife and I recently spent a morning running errands. We emerged from our neighborhood into a thick blanket of marine fog. Visibility on Navarre Parkway was less than a quarter of a mile.

The bridge to Navarre Beach arched into a misty uncertainty. Buildings and trees emerged from the mist as faint shadows and only gradually took on definition.

“It’s over already? That was short!” said 4-year-old Killian after a recent Sunday service at COMPASS Church.

Out of the mouth of babes! Most often, the variable in the service’s length is the length of my sermon, and such was the case that Sunday.

My obsession with coffee had me driving to a market in Pensacola for a specific, locally roasted coffee when a myriad of coffee products is available around the corner.

As I entered the coffee aisle, my access to the bean dispensers was blocked by a bewildered couple in conversation with another customer who occasionally pointed to the dispensers in answer to their questions.