Just some observations from the details of life:
- I hate when the word “countless” is used in speaking or writing. Except for the size of the universe in light years, the number of stars in space, or the depth of the love of God, everything else can, technically, be counted.
- Another pet peeve in writing or speaking: when people use that when they should use who. As in “I love people that play tennis.” No you don’t. It’s “I love people who play tennis.” Which you should.
- On a recent out of town trip, I stayed one night with my college roommate. His house has 10,000 square feet and an indoor pool, both of which beg the obvious question: what am I doing wrong?
- Answer: paying too much attention to obscure grammar rules involving ‘countless’ and ‘that.’
- By the way, on that same trip mentioned two bullets above I forgot my toothbrush. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that it was easy to keep 10,000 square feet away from each other.
- I pinch myself every day that it really is true that an Abingdon editor saw my sermons online and as a result there will be three books published later this year.
- Those books do not contain either the word countless or the improper use of that.
- I breathe a sigh of relief whenever Rafael Nadal loses in a Grand Slam tournament. This is not healthy. He lost to Tomas Berdych — whom he had beaten 18 times in a row — in this week’s Australian Open.
- Speaking of beating someone many times in a row, Brad Stoffel beat me 15 times in a row when we were kids playing tennis in Texas, and most of those wins ensured that he was ranked #1 in the state and I was ranked #2. Being #2 is not cool (I wanted to say “sucks” right there but wasn’t sure it was appropriate. What do you think?). This happened between the ages of 12 and 16.
- Nobody beats me 16 times in a row.
- You should never speak of your own efforts at something as tireless. You should also never applaud your own integrity.
- Speaking of not healthy (from three bullets up), I still know the telephone numbers of almost every household at Mt. Carmel Church in Monroe. A ministry colleague told me a hilarious story involving one of them recently, and my mind went immediately to that person’s phone number.
- I had to wear slacks, a dress shirt, and loafers for a recent denominational meeting. It is bad enough to be 53, much less be forced to dress like it.
- Speaking of denominational meetings, I hope that we will still have one in the future. Denomination, that is.
- Actually, being 53 is great. Probably the best one yet.