Unlocked

Thanksgiving

Guys like me have a lot to be thankful for. Undeserving at the very best, I’ve received nearly a years worth of God’s grace and mercy. I have the world’s greatest parents in my corner and an extended family that serves God, and is for the most part healthy and happy. I love my job and they pay me a little more than I’m worth every single week. I’m healthy, for a slothful, over-weight fella’, who’s promised everyone that matters in my life that this will be the year I whoop myself into shape. I’m blessed with a caring and genuine church family who love their “youngin”. I’m able to live out my calling through daily ministry.

 

There are too many small, overlooked blessings to list here. A warm bed. A roof over my head. Spending money after all the bills get paid.

 

I could go on and on about how unappreciative our post-modern nation has become. Instead, I’ll stop here, and remind all of you to celebrate thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day and then every day afterward. It’s hard to believe we are really this blessed and we still need the excuse of a holiday to be thankful for all we have been given.

So, Just how thankful are you?

Yep, it's a mess.

Thanks for stopping by. As I look around, I shake my head thinking, "This place is a mess".

I promise, I'm getting it cleaned up as fast as I know how. If anyone wants to pitch in, that would be great. If you can't, can you hook me up with someone who can?

I'm learning as I go, I just felt compelled to dive in and start telling my story and dreams now. We'll piece the asthetics together as we go along (kinda like makin' up the rules as you play the game, right?).

For now, thanks again for stopping by and if you have any constructive crticism, fire away.

What's the best lookin' blog you've seen and what caught your eye first?

Where to begin?

That's the big question I'm dealing with right now. Where to begin? I have a story to tell; I'm just not sure where to start or who will hear.

So, here I am, a lowly follower of Christ. A man who's failed a time or two in every significant area of his life. A man who has found grace powerful enough that it propped him back up in one corner of the ring, and the strength long enough to fight it out one more round.

That’s me, a scrappy, battle-hardened, dreamer. An oxymoron, true to form. A student of heroes, hard-knocks, and too many hairpin turns.

As orbital as that all sounds, my story and dreams are even further still. It’s that story and those dreams that I’m living to tell.

And one more thing, I think in sentence fragments and start sentences with conjunctions.