I finally bought a GPS. I fought the idea because I already had a wife. Didn’t need a GPS.  Diane was my GPS. “Turn left in 500 ft – Stay on this road for three miles – Stop! – We’re here!”

Diane was always right and she didn’t need batteries. I travel alone now and I’m not very good at getting to my destination.  On several occasions I’ve found myself in the middle of a corn field, fifty miles from where I wanted to be.  So I bought a GPS.  Named it Lulu.  Lulu has my destination locked in her memory and shows me the perfect way to get there. It’s kind of nice. Lulu doesn’t make me stop to go to the bathroom, she never asks me what I am thinking and she too is always right. But sometimes I deliberately, or by accident, turn right when Lulu says left…or left when she says right.  In those moments Lulu gently instructs me to make a U turn and get back on track.  More often she simply says “recalculating.” Then she comes up with a whole new perfect plan for me. A new beginning from my current position. How cool is that! The destination remains the same… the journey getting there has been adjusted taking into account my diversion.

Today was a tough day.  I lost my drivers license at the airport.  Didn’t realize it until I had cleared security.  I went back out to look for it and found it lying beneath the “check in kiosk.”  I discovered that if one goes through security twice one evidently becomes a national security risk. After much grumbling and lack of gratitude, (Helllooo! I did FIND my license!) I settled into my seat on the plane and read the following story.

After 50 years of service in Africa a weary missionary couple descended the gangplank of their boat.   Their disembarking was delayed by a throng of press and well-wishers welcoming president Theodore Roosevelt back from his most recent safari.  As they made their way through the crowd the husband expressed to his wife how discouraged he was.

Journaler Jadyn

On Valentines day we gave each of our grandchildren little notebooks to be used as journals. We also gave them brief instructions on how to use them.  The older children immediately sat down and began recording their thoughts for the day.  Since my youngest granddaughter, four year old Jadyn, cannot yet write, I was worried that she might feel left out.  My fears were put to rest when she sat down, took out her pencil, and whispered as she began to write, “Dear diarrhea!” The entire house erupted in laughter, including the uncontrollable giggles of Jadyn.  But when the laughter dies, I hope that each of my grandchildren experience the many benefits of keeping a regular journal.

Here are just a few of those benefits:

A glimpse of what is ahead often changes the course of our lives. If you are on the freeway and see flashing ambulance and police lights ahead, you will most likely take a detour to avoid an accident.

The motivating shot. Move Grandpa, so we can see the ocean!

For me it was a glimpse from behind that changed my life. Seeing this flattering picture started me on a two year journey that became a physical, spiritual and emotional adventure that I will never regret.

After many gains and losses, I have finally lost almost 50 lbs, I have maintained that loss and I have found a renewed excitement about every aspect of living. The discipline and resulting vibrance I found in my physical life, also helped me take a close look at my spiritual life. I had become lazy there as well. Thank heaven there are no pictures of that!

Benjamin Franklin said, “Most people die at about 25 and aren’t buried until they are 75.” This last year I feel like my life has been rewound 25 years…

After watching the news over the past several days,  I turned to my wife Diane last night and said, “The world is watching the church in action.” Thousands of believers who were themselves suffering personal loss are serving the poor in Haiti.  Many have been there for years making a difference even before the earthquake struck. The efforts of these who are God’s feet on the ground can’t be hidden. You couldn’t miss the faces of hundreds of college students and high school groups from churches across America who were in Haiti before the disaster with a mission to help the beautiful people of this impoverished country.  Hundreds if not thousands of them are among those who perished.