A four-month calendar lay on the kitchen island, with a third of the coming year on display. When I walked into the room, I saw that it had highlights and marks. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but I had an educated guess as to what it meant.
Confession is difficult. It doesn't come easy - at least not for me. To admit I was wrong feels synonymous with accepting defeat. As a competitive person, defeat is one thing, accepting it quite another. But therein is the lie - confession is not defeat; it's ensuring wrong is not on repeat.
Twice a year we have a leadership training for potential new group leaders in our church. We've been doing it since before I got here. We identify people who might have the qualities and the character to be future small group leaders.
My daughters love to draw me pictures. I have so many sheets of colorful paper it's sometimes a bit overwhelming. They have given me pictures of baby bunnies, horrifying monsters, and structures of which I still am not sure what they are.
My wife's family has been doing extended family vacations for 25+ years. I married into this routine, but they were in the habit of an immediate family vacation every year with an extended reunion every other year. It has been quite an experience for me.
"Sorry to break it to you, but you are now in your late 30's". My teammate told me this recently. I of course refuted the claim since I was far from old. However, it only took 2 more months to realize I was indeed older than I once was.
Preacher on the Run... 