As a man, I have always been drawn to finding solutions. Give me a problem, and my instinct is to roll up my sleeves and get to work. Time and effort rarely discourage me. If I have the will, I believe I can find a way. An obstacle is an invitation to think differently, try again, and keep going. When a solution hasn’t appeared, my first thought is that we simply haven’t found it… yet.
Life Happens
Shel Silverstein captured that spirit in “Listen to the Mustn’ts,” reminding us that even in a world full of limits, possibility remains.
“Listen to the mustn’ts, child, listen to the Don’ts, listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossible, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me… anything can happen, child, anything can be.” – Shel Silverstein, 1930 – 1999, Poet, Listen to the Mustn’ts
That belief has carried me a long way. Life, though, has taught me something equally valuable: some problems don’t have the solutions we want. There are relationships that cannot be repaired. Some goodbyes are final. That’s the hard one.
Accepting those truths takes courage. And even when we cannot change an outcome, we still have choices about how we live beyond it. There is hope in that. There is room to grow, to find meaning, and eventually, to feel joy again.
Matthew 6:34: “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
It’s Not About Solutions
We don’t have to figure out the rest of our lives today. Sometimes our task is simply to take the next breath, accept a helping hand, and do one small thing that moves us forward. A difficult day can be met one moment at a time.
I have learned that loving deeply can mean grieving deeply. When someone or something has brought us tremendous joy, their absence can leave an enormous void. Yet the love we experienced remains part of us. It lives in our memories, in what we learned, and in how we care for others.
We could try to protect ourselves from the crash by never taking flight. But consider what we would miss: connection, laughter, companionship, and the extraordinary experience of loving and being loved. Those things make the risk worth taking, even when our hearts need time to believe it again.
I say this with respect for how overwhelming loss can be. We have all been in that storm. I have known moments when every breath felt difficult, my thoughts moved too quickly to put into words, and getting through the day took everything I had.
It’s About Your Future
In those moments, hope was often small. Sometimes it was a conversation, or someone sitting beside me. Sometimes it was simply giving myself another day.
Here is what I have learned: I am loved. I matter. My presence makes a difference for family and friends, even in ways I may never fully see. I deserve their care, and I can let them help me carry what feels too heavy to carry alone.
Strength includes reaching out. It also includes resting, grieving, and beginning again as many times as we need. Progress can be slow and still be real.
Some things cannot be fixed. Still, a meaningful life can take shape around what we have lost. We can carry forward the love, honor what mattered, and remain open to new people, new purpose, and new joy.
We don’t need every answer to take the next step.
Today, we can choose one small act of courage. We can call someone, step outside, accept support, or simply make room for a moment of peace.
You Are Loved
Right now, there is someone in your life who you don’t see but who is thinking this about you: “I can’t promise how this will turn out, but I will stand beside you through it—you are loved, you matter, and you don’t have to see a way forward for us to take the next step together.”
There is more life ahead. And we are worth the effort it takes to reach it.
“Even during the worst hardships, when the other things in our lives seem to fall apart, we can still find peace in the eternal love of God.” – Armstrong Williams
Today, I’m asking myself whether I can be trusted with much. Do I look at a subset of gifts God has given me and determine that they are the only ones God cares about, or do I include all of the blessings and attributes of my existence to serve God? I think I have a tendency to pick and choose.
This morning, I found myself thinking about how God interacts with me through the Holy Spirit, prodding me toward a life worth living. My mind slowly turned to why He puts certain people in my life—often people with problems.
I finished writing a book this week. It took more than two years. It wasn’t a biography or a memoir. I didn’t write about my achievements. It was about how I became me, about what happened in my life that transformed me and shaped me into who I am today.
Heroes vs. survivors. We don’t grow up wanting to be just survivors. I think most of us grow up wanting to be heroes because heroes are simple.
Another year, another Birthday has arrived.
The basic question one asks when seeking God is: what was there before? As humans with limited knowledge and finite experience, we struggle to grasp something that has no beginning or end. Our minds are wired for sequence—before and after, cause and effect, start and finish. Everything we have ever known fits within that framework.
“We are overworked and underpaid.” Every generation says it. My grandfather said it, my father said it, I’ve said it, and now my daughter says it too.
We often overlook how important it is to seize opportunities when they arise. Sometimes we assume that people who push through life’s hardships are underestimating their situation. It’s not that they are unaware of the difficulty; they refuse to let the difficulty define what they can achieve.
In my three-quarters of a century, I have noticed three signs of a life well-lived. The first is a strong sense of identity, the second is the resolve to keep moving forward even when the road ahead is unclear, and the third is finishing faithfully. I will cover the three in a three part post. This is part one.