as i sit inside on this cold end-of-december morning in which i can feel 2009 surrendering to its icy inevitable death, i am very much aware of the rhythm of the years, the rise and fall, and finally, the crushing winter weight of every dozen months or so. and so another year collapses under the burden of turned calendar pages. but just before 2009 gives its dark virgin birth to a whole new year, i stand again at that annual crossroads, seeing both how far we've come and how far we have yet to go. and yet, even here, i remember, most of all, that i just want to be present for these moments we have right now, before they become only memories, or worse, are forgotten completely. i want to be present to the wide-eyed wonder of unopened gifts, and the unabashed joy of an opened toy, glimmering with untouched plastic. i want to be present to the unrivaled determination of the blades of grass poking up through the dirty blanket of snow. i want to be present to the fury of cousins
a collection of words about God and life and art and baseball and football and hope and my family and my ministry and music and the immense joy in each moment of all of it. it's a record of being human. welcome.