The Last Action Star?

It feels like we’re living in a fascinating moment in cinematic history, where the larger-than-life action stars who once dominated the silver screen are now stepping into elder statesman roles. 

The likes of Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Harrison Ford, Kevin Costner, Tom Cruise, and Billy Bob Thornton still captivate audiences, but they’re no longer the young, unstoppable forces they once portrayed. 

Instead, they’re older, weathered, and often wrestling with themes of legacy, mortality, and wisdom—a reflection of their real-life journeys as well as the audiences who grew up idolizing them. 

This isn’t just a shift in casting; it’s a cultural moment that invites the question: Are we witnessing the end of an era?

The enduring appeal of these icons speaks volumes. Their names still draw audiences, whether through nostalgic franchises like Indiana Jones or the Mission: Impossible series, or through gritty, modern explorations of their classic personas. They embody a sense of continuity in a world increasingly marked by change and uncertainty. But as they age, there’s a noticeable absence of younger actors rising to fill their boots. Hollywood seems to be struggling to anoint a new generation of singular, iconic male action stars. Is it that no one today can measure up to the Stallones and Schwarzeneggers of yesteryear? Or is something deeper at play?

One reason might lie in how Hollywood and broader society have been reevaluating traditional ideas of masculinity. The archetypal action hero—stoic, hyper-masculine, and often emotionally detached—has come under scrutiny in an era more attuned to the complexities of human behavior. The term "toxic masculinity" has become a buzzword, critiquing traits historically associated with male heroes, such as dominance and emotional suppression. While this critique is necessary and valid in many ways, it has also shifted the cultural landscape. The lone wolf action hero, solving problems with his fists and a one-liner, doesn’t align as easily with contemporary sensibilities. Instead, we see male characters who are more vulnerable, collaborative, or emotionally open.

This cultural shift has coincided with changes in the way stories are told. Blockbuster franchises no longer hinge on a singular hero. Instead, they rely on ensembles, where the spotlight is shared among diverse casts. Marvel’s sprawling universe, for instance, features a rotating roster of heroes, each contributing to the larger narrative. While this approach has its merits, it’s harder for any single actor to rise to the level of cultural icon that Stallone or Schwarzenegger achieved in their heyday. The focus has moved away from the singular figure standing tall in the face of adversity to teams, legacies, and shared victories.

Additionally, the rise of streaming platforms has fragmented viewership. In the past, a single summer blockbuster could dominate the cultural conversation and catapult an actor into stardom. Today, content is consumed in smaller, more personalized doses, making it harder for any one performance or star to gain the universal recognition that was once possible. The ecosystem of celebrity itself has changed; stars no longer loom as large as they did in the monoculture of the ’80s and ’90s.

But there’s also a resistance to letting go of the classic archetypes. Films like Top Gun: Maverick remind us that the appetite for old-school heroism is far from dead. Tom Cruise’s portrayal of Pete “Maverick” Mitchell wasn’t just a nostalgia trip; it was a validation of the enduring appeal of the lone hero, facing impossible odds and coming out victorious. The film’s success proved that while cultural tastes evolve, there’s still room for the kind of heroism that transcends time and trends.

Yet the absence of a younger generation stepping into these roles is striking. Some suggest that Hollywood’s embrace of “wokeness” has contributed, as studios prioritize narratives that challenge traditional gender roles and promote more inclusive storytelling. While these efforts are important and reflect genuine cultural progress, they might also explain the hesitation to embrace the kind of unapologetically larger-than-life male heroes who defined the action genre. There’s a tension between honoring the past and forging a future that feels relevant to today’s audiences.

Perhaps, though, the answer isn’t in recreating the action heroes of the past but in reimagining what heroism looks like for a new generation. 

Will the next great icons might blend strength with vulnerability, action with introspection? They might not wield machine guns or swing from helicopters, but they’ll find ways to capture the same spirit of courage and determination that once defined the genre. As the cultural pendulum continues to swing, there’s every chance that a new kind of action hero will emerge, one who reflects the complexities of the modern world while still thrilling audiences with daring feats and compelling stories.

But I get a feeling it won't connect to the thing that drives revenue.

For now, we can savor the twilight of an era as our older heroes take their final bows, their stories enriched by decades of experience and layered with meaning. 

Whether we’re seeing the end of something or the beginning of something new remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: the action hero—in whatever form they take—should be on the endangered species list with a note.... almost extinct.

The Devolution of Society Through the Lens of the Joker Films

Note: I struggled through the latest Joker recently, found it difficult to watch despite powerful acting and stunning cinematic visuals.... We are as Gotham as we have ever been.

Then the LORD God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil. Now, lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever—” [23] therefore the LORD God sent him out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. (Genesis 3:22–23 ESV)

The Joker character, as portrayed through various films, offers a striking and evolving commentary on societal decay, mental illness, and the consequences of a fractured world. As we watch the character's development across different portrayals—from the comic antics of the 1960s to the chaotic nihilism of today—it becomes clear that the Joker is not merely a villain but a symbol of a society unraveling. Each iteration of the Joker presents a unique reflection of mental deterioration and cultural collapse, moving from playful mischief to profound

The Early Days: Fun and Folly

The first cinematic depiction of the Joker came in the 1966 Batman: The Movie, where Cesar Romero's Joker was portrayed with campy humor and exaggerated antics. Here, the Joker was a light-hearted villain, more comedic than sinister. His crimes were fantastical, and his character was a far cry from the dark depths the Joker would later explore. This version of the character doesn’t focus on societal issues or the Joker's psychology but rather emphasizes villainous playfulness in a world that still operated within clear moral boundaries.

The Shift to Darkness: Jack Nicholson's Joker

In Tim Burton's 1989 Batman, Jack Nicholson’s Joker began to introduce a more complex, darker version of the character. While still maintaining a certain theatrical flair, this Joker’s motivations were grounded in personal revenge. His descent into madness was tied to his transformation from a failed mobster to a grotesque clown-faced villain, but the societal implications were more surface-level compared to what would come later. Nevertheless, this portrayal laid the groundwork for the more psychologically complex Jokers that would follow.

The Rise of Nihilism: Heath Ledger's Joker

Heath Ledger’s iconic performance in The Dark Knight (2008) marked a sharp turn toward exploring the Joker as a symbol of societal breakdown. Ledger's Joker isn’t just insane—he's a nihilistic force, questioning the very fabric of civilization. His desire to create chaos and dismantle social structures reflects a deeper commentary on how fragile societal norms are and how easily they can collapse under pressure. In Ledger's portrayal, the Joker becomes less of a personal villain and more of an embodiment of societal disillusionment. This iteration reflects a world in crisis, where moral clarity fades, and the Joker seeks to expose the chaos lurking beneath the surface of modern life.

The Cultural Decay: Jared Leto's Joker

Jared Leto’s Joker in Suicide Squad (2016) represents yet another layer in the evolution of the character. While his version is more stylized and criminally eccentric, Leto’s Joker taps into themes of excess, decadence, and a breakdown of traditional values. His portrayal blends mental instability with a dark cultural commentary, where societal norms have eroded, and chaos is glorified. The Joker here isn’t just a man gone mad—he’s a reflection of a corrupt world that celebrates violence, anarchy, and the erosion of moral boundaries.

The Descent into Madness: Joaquin Phoenix’s Arthur Fleck

The 2019 Joker, starring Joaquin Phoenix, is perhaps the most raw and personal exploration of mental illness and societal neglect. Arthur Fleck, the man who becomes the Joker, is a product of a broken society—a world that has failed him at every turn. From his struggles with mental health to his social isolation, Arthur’s transformation into the Joker is a direct result of the societal systems that abandoned him. His descent is painful to watch, but it’s also an exploration of how an individual can spiral into madness when societal structures crumble under the weight of neglect, cruelty, and apathy.

This film’s ambiguity—blurring the lines between fantasy and reality—forces the audience to question not just Arthur’s mental state but also the society that allowed him to fall so far. Arthur’s rise as the Joker symbolizes the breakdown of empathy and the rise of chaos in a world where the vulnerable are often ignored. His story critiques the societal neglect of mental health and the effects of systemic failure on the most fragile members of society.

The Legacy of Chaos: Joker: Folie à Deux

Joker: Folie à Deux (2024) continues the narrative of societal decline, expanding on the themes of isolation, madness, and the consequences of Arthur Fleck's transformation into the Joker. The film delves into his relationships with others, particularly his connection with Lee (Lady Gaga), as Arthur's Joker persona begins to spiral out of control once more. The film’s ending, with Arthur’s death at the hands of a young inmate who idolizes the Joker, suggests that the chaos Arthur unleashed is far from over. In fact, the Joker’s legacy persists even beyond his own life, as others are drawn to the madness he represents. This final twist emphasizes the cyclical nature of chaos in society, and how the Joker’s influence has become a cultural force, with others eager to continue the cycle of destruction he began.

A Social Commentary on Madness and Society

Across all these portrayals, the Joker evolves from a lighthearted villain to a tragic figure—a product of a society that increasingly disregards its most vulnerable. The darker the imagery becomes, the more it mirrors the growing disillusionment with societal structures, mental health care, and cultural values. Each version of the Joker reflects a different aspect of societal decay: from personal revenge to the glorification of chaos, from a crumbling sense of morality to the normalization of anarchy.

Ultimately, the Joker films serve as a chilling social commentary. They illustrate the dangers of societal neglect, the consequences of a fractured world, and the psychological impact of living in a culture that often prizes entertainment over empathy. As each new version of the Joker emerges, it becomes clear that the devolution into madness is not just a personal journey—it’s a collective experience, one that we all have a hand in shaping.

The Generational Divide: A Difference in Perspective

One thing that’s often difficult to measure is the difference in perspective between those who have lived through these societal changes and those who are coming of age in them. As someone who is 60 years old, you’ve had the chance to observe firsthand the dramatic shifts in societal structures and cultural norms. Your memories are rooted in a time that seemed more cohesive, more structured, and perhaps more hopeful. For you, the changes that have taken place represent a clear departure from a time of stability. Your perspective is anchored in this "before" and allows you to apply logic and understanding to what has been lost or broken over the years.

For younger people, however, the experience is fundamentally different. They may not have a tangible "before" to compare to the present. Their developmental years are marked by uncertainty, and they might perceive a world that has always been fractured. This absence of a stable, cohesive past can shape their worldview in unique ways. Disillusionment, anxiety, and a sense of powerlessness might define their experience, as they try to navigate a world where societal structures are no longer as clear or supportive as they once were.

This generational divide is crucial. Older generations, like yours, can reflect on a time when these issues were less visible or more manageable, whereas younger generations must deal with the consequences of these changes as their reality. The difference isn’t just in how society has changed—it’s in how these changes are experienced and internalized. This gap in understanding may make it harder for both generations to relate to each other, but it also presents an opportunity to bridge the divide by sharing perspectives and fostering a deeper conversation about what kind of world we are creating and how we can move forward.

Gospel Hope:

The interesting thing about the message of the gospel - it is as good as ever! Base human nature hasn't changed since the fall. And the offer of forgiveness through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus can accept any contrite heart. However, the darker our society, the deeper the decay, and the scars are real. However, the light still shines!

Three Men and A Car (A Parable)

There was once an old car, abandoned in a forgotten barn, its metal frame rusted and its engine silenced by decades of neglect. Yet, even in its disrepair, it spoke to those who saw it: a promise of something that once was and could be again.

The first man discovered the car during a solitary walk. A lover of history and craftsmanship, he saw in the car a relic of a bygone era. Determined to honor its original glory, he began an exhaustive quest to collect every part needed to restore it.

Years passed as he scoured junkyards, attended auctions, and bartered with collectors. Piece by piece, the car came together. Every detail was authentic, every bolt true to its era. Finally, the day came when the car rolled out of his workshop, gleaming as if it had just left the factory decades ago. The man drove it with pride, cherishing every mile, until the ravages of time once again claimed it. No matter how meticulous his care, the car was bound by the same laws of entropy that had left it rusting in the barn.

The second man found the car not long after. Unlike the first, he had little patience for a perfect restoration. Instead, he set about rebuilding the car with practicality in mind. Using modern materials and tools, he repaired the frame, installed a new engine, and upgraded its systems. The car emerged transformed—not a replica of the past but a reflection of the present. It was reliable, efficient, and stylish in a way that paid homage to its origins while embracing progress. He drove it proudly for years, but even his upgrades could not withstand the relentless march of time. Eventually, the car grew old, its new parts aging just as surely as the original ones had.

The third man came across the car in a much-altered state. It had passed through many hands, its original form a distant memory. Yet this man saw something different in it—not just what it had been or what it was, but what it could become. Armed with technologies that didn’t exist when the car was first built, he reimagined it entirely. He replaced the internal combustion engine with an electric motor, integrated advanced materials to make it lighter and stronger, and added features that would have been unthinkable to its original creators.

The car was reborn, not as a relic or a hybrid of old and new, but as something entirely different. It no longer bore the limitations of its time; it was a creation for a new age. The third man drove it not only as a vehicle but as a statement of possibility, a testament to transformation.

Years later, the three men's grandsons met by chance, each sharing the story of their grandfather's time with the car. Though they marveled at one another’s work and they still debated which builder was the greatest.

The first man said, “My pop  honored the car’s soul, preserving its history for future generations.”

The second man said, “My granddaddy brought it into the modern age, making it useful and practical once more.”

The third man said, “My grandfather gave it a new life, unshackled by the past and prepared for the future.”

And so the debate raged on and on. Each man made his case, each passionately arguing the merit of his approach. The discussion grew louder and spilled out into the streets, where others joined in. Soon, the world was consumed by the question: Which man was greater? Each person’s answer reflected their own values, their own view of what it meant to create, to restore, to transform.

And the mass of humanity argued over the answer to that question for eons, each convinced their perspective was the only one.

Toward the end of the age- as the debate raged on - an old man passed by them walking with a cane.

Finally, someone who could possible solve the debate!

This elder stopped, pulled out an old Bible and began reading,

"So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. For we are God’s fellow workers. You are God’s field, God’s building. According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire. So says 1 Corinthians 3."

And the debate ended....... 

for a little while.......

The Hidden Presence- Isaiah 7 and Isaiah 36

The story of Isaiah 7 is filled with layers of history, prophecy, and divine mystery. At its core is a message of hope and reassurance to a terrified king and nation, yet its implications extend far beyond its immediate context. As we unpack the themes of this passage, we uncover profound truths about God’s sovereignty and a prophecy with a dual fulfillment that resonates through the ages.

The Setting: A City on Edge

The backdrop of Isaiah 7 is a city in crisis. Jerusalem, under the rule of King Ahaz, faces the looming threat of the Syro-Ephraimite alliance—a coalition between Aram (Syria) and the northern kingdom of Israel. Ahaz, a king known for his fearfulness and lack of faith, is preparing for siege and survival. The prophet Isaiah, instructed by God, goes to meet Ahaz at a crucial location: “the conduit of the upper pool, on the highway to the Washer’s Field” (Isaiah 7:3).

This setting—the upper pool—is no random detail. It represents the lifeline of Jerusalem, the water source fed by the Gihon Spring. The spring itself, intriguingly nicknamed “the fountain of the virgin,” has connections to Eden through its association with the rivers of creation. Even in this moment of national turmoil, the irony is thick: Ahaz stands at a location symbolizing divine provision and sustenance, yet he refuses to trust the One who sustains him.

The Sign: Immediate and Ultimate

Isaiah offers Ahaz a sign of God’s faithfulness, even inviting him to ask for one. But Ahaz, masking his fear and lack of trust in false piety, refuses. God provides the sign anyway:

“Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14).

This prophecy, spoken in a moment of political intrigue, holds a dual fulfillment. In its immediate context, the “virgin” (Hebrew: ‘almah) refers to a young woman of marriageable age, likely someone in Ahaz’s court. The child to be born, called Immanuel (“God with us”), would serve as a tangible sign of God’s presence and deliverance. By the time this child could discern right from wrong, the immediate threat of Aram and Israel would be neutralized (Isaiah 7:16).

Yet, as with much of Isaiah’s prophecy, the ultimate fulfillment lies in Christ. The Gospel of Matthew explicitly connects Isaiah 7:14 to the virgin birth of Jesus:

“All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: ‘Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel’” (Matthew 1:22-23).

In Christ, the prophecy transcends its original context. The ‘almah—rendered as parthenos (“virgin”) in the Greek Septuagint—points to Mary, whose miraculous conception of Jesus underscores the divine nature of the ultimate Immanuel, God truly with us.

Hidden in Plain Sight

The dual fulfillment of this prophecy reveals God’s intricate plan, woven through history and scripture. The word ‘almah itself carries layers of meaning. While it typically refers to a young woman of marriageable age, its association with virginity in the cultural context, and its translation into Greek as parthenos, hints at something more. This layered meaning is one of the ways God embeds deeper truths within His word—truths that unfold fully in Christ.

Moreover, the location of this prophecy—the conduit of the upper pool—adds another layer of divine humor and irony. The spring that fed this pool, the Gihon Spring, bears a name connected to Eden, the beginning of God’s redemptive story. According to legend, Mary washed Jesus’ swaddling clothes at this same spring. Here, we see a symbolic thread tying the prophecy of Immanuel to its ultimate fulfillment, as if God were leaving hints throughout history.

The Hidden One Revealed

The “hidden” nature of this prophecy reflects a broader truth about God’s work in the world. At first glance, the sign given to Ahaz might seem ordinary, even mundane: a young woman will have a child. But within this sign lies the promise of God’s presence and deliverance, a promise that would reach its crescendo in the birth of Jesus Christ.

In the same way, much of God’s work in our lives is hidden, visible only through the lens of faith. The story of Isaiah 7 reminds us to look beyond the immediate circumstances to see the greater work of God—a work that often unfolds in ways we cannot fully grasp until the time is right.

A God Who Is With Us

The name Immanuel encapsulates the heart of the Gospel: God is with us. In times of crisis, like Ahaz’s Judah, we are tempted to rely on our own strategies or to give in to despair. Yet, God’s promise remains. He is present, weaving His purposes through the fabric of history and the details of our lives.

A Contrast in Faith: Hezekiah and the Destruction of Sennacherib

Approximately 35 years later, the same setting—“the conduit of the upper pool”—appears in Isaiah 36, but the narrative takes a drastically different turn. This time, King Hezekiah faces the might of Assyria and the taunting threats of Sennacherib’s envoy. Unlike Ahaz, Hezekiah responds with faith. Instead of seeking alliances or relying on his own cunning, he turns to the Lord in prayer, laying the blasphemous words of the Assyrians before God in the temple (Isaiah 37:14-20).

God’s response is swift and decisive. Through the prophet Isaiah, He promises deliverance, and in one night, the angel of the Lord strikes down 185,000 Assyrian soldiers (Isaiah 37:36). The same location that once highlighted Ahaz’s faithlessness now becomes a stage for God’s power and faithfulness to a king who trusts Him.

This contrast underscores the central message of Isaiah: faith in the Lord brings deliverance, while reliance on human schemes leads to ruin. The “hidden one”—God’s presence—is revealed in both stories, but it is faith that determines whether His presence brings judgment or salvation.

May we, like Hezekiah, respond to challenges with unwavering trust in the God who is always with us—Immanuel.

Seeing Through the Fog of Faulty Thinking: Lessons from A Beautiful Mind

Sadly, I can create a lot of misery in my life being weighed down by neurotic and mis-guided thinking. How do we accurately help ourselves.... and maybe others (though I need to spend 90% of this advice ON MY brain.... not others!

In the film A Beautiful Mind, we witness the brilliant mathematician John Nash grapple with a harrowing realization: some of the people and scenarios he’s deeply invested in are figments of his imagination. For Nash, recognizing that his perceptions were flawed wasn’t merely an intellectual challenge; it was a fight for his very sense of reality. His journey of learning to question his own mind offers a profound lesson: even the sharpest intellects are not immune to faulty thinking.

This begs the question—how can we, as flawed humans, recognize when our perceptions are leading us astray? How can we cultivate a healthy skepticism of our own thoughts without succumbing to self-doubt or paralysis? Let’s explore how to identify and address the faulty thinking that can quietly wreak havoc in our lives.

Faulty thinking often masquerades as truth because it aligns seamlessly with our biases, assumptions, or emotions. 

Confirmation bias, for example, drives us to unconsciously seek information that supports our existing beliefs, while ignoring evidence to the contrary. 

Overconfidence bias can lead us to overestimate the soundness of our reasoning—a trap that intelligent people are particularly prone to. 

Emotional reasoning, where we take feelings as evidence of truth, also clouds judgment. For instance, we might assume, I feel anxious, so something must be wrong.

These distortions skew our decisions, strain relationships, and even derail our sense of purpose. And the more invested we are in our perceptions, the harder it becomes to step back and question them.

 Recognizing and addressing faulty thinking requires deliberate effort and practices that encourage clarity and self-awareness.

Before I move on- I cannot stress enough the need we have to include Scripture in our process. God's Word is especially equipped to break through these barriers!

But there are tools and techniques that help......

A powerful tool is reflective questioning. By asking ourselves why we believe something, what evidence supports or contradicts it, and how another person might interpret the situation, we can uncover assumptions that might not hold up under scrutiny. Reflective journaling is another practice that helps bring distorted patterns to light. Writing down thoughts, feelings, and assumptions creates the space to analyze them objectively, revealing recurring traps over time.

Feedback from others is also invaluable. No matter how sharp we are, our blind spots remain invisible to us. Trusted friends, mentors, or colleagues can provide perspectives that challenge our biases and reveal flaws in our reasoning. This requires cultivating intellectual humility—acknowledging that being wrong is not a weakness but a strength. Mistakes are opportunities for growth, as Nash’s journey in A Beautiful Mind demonstrates. Recognizing the fallibility of his own perceptions enabled him to regain control over his life.

Mindfulness complements these practices by fostering awareness of our thoughts without judgment. Observing our mental patterns helps us identify when emotions or biases might be influencing reasoning. For example, noticing a thought like, I’m terrible at this task, mindfulness invites us to pause and ask, Is this thought factual, or is it my frustration speaking?

Convincing others to question their thinking is equally challenging, particularly when they’re highly intelligent or deeply invested in their perspective. Demonstrating open-mindedness is key. Share your own willingness to challenge your beliefs, perhaps by recounting a time when you realized you were wrong and how it transformed your perspective. Asking thoughtful questions rather than pointing out flaws can guide someone toward clarity. For instance, you might ask, What evidence would it take to convince you otherwise? Creating a safe, respectful environment where they feel unjudged fosters curiosity and understanding rather than defensiveness.

Healthy skepticism, however, does not mean doubting everything. It’s about finding balance. Holding fast to core principles, like honesty or kindness, can ground us while we remain open to revising specific beliefs about people or situations.

John Nash’s story reminds us that seeing through the fog of faulty thinking is not an admission of failure—it’s a courageous act of self-awareness. By building habits of reflection, humility, and openness, we can navigate life with greater clarity and resilience. The truth may not always be comfortable, but it is ultimately liberating.

This post inspired a song- you can hear it here:

Disillusioned Mind

A Post on Prayer and a Rooster's Crow

Have you ever heard of the novel The Book of the Dun Cow by Walter Wangerin Jr.? It’s a richly allegorical story about good and evil, sacrifice, and community, featuring Chauntecleer, a rooster who rules his domain with both pride and care. One of the book’s most memorable elements is Chauntecleer’s crows—those bold, resounding calls that mark the morning, the evening, and other significant moments.

 His crows aren’t just duties; they’re woven into the rhythm of his existence, calling out not only to his domain but to the heavens themselves.

"It was the crow of Chauntecleer. The morning crow, the waking crow, the beginning crow, the opening of the day to the powers of Heaven.
It was the crow of joy, the shout of birth, the proclamation of life against nothingness. It was the beginning."

This passage highlights the profound nature of his crows—they’re not just sounds but declarations of life and meaning, filled with intentionality and purpose. 

Similarly, later sections describe his other crows, such as the evening crow, as fulfilling a different role, marking time and offering order amidst the chaos. These rhythms of crowing reflect not just duty but a profound connection to the divine and the natural order.

This imagery ties beautifully to prayer, where structured, intentional moments mark our days, connecting us to God and proclaiming life, faith, and hope against the backdrop of the world’s uncertainties.

I am NOT a great person of prayer. I do have a running conversation with God almost everyday, very casual... you might say "shallow" and I have never been good at a routine of prayer, it feels ritualistic to me at times.

But I forget that routine is discipline, it is good. And scheduling prayer for more than trivial interactions allows for deeper discussions.

Unfortunately, I'm the same way with my wife. I'm with her often, I love being with her, but my conversations can be trivial and not intentional.

Recently, I was challenged about this in thinking through the prayer of Moses and his interactions with Yahweh.

The dialogues between God and Moses about the Israelites' stubbornness reveal a remarkable relationship between divine justice, mercy, and human intercession. 

In these exchanges, particularly in Exodus 32 and Numbers 14, we see Moses stepping into the role of mediator, often advocating for the very people who test his patience. These moments are more than dramatic stories—they offer profound insights into prayer, leadership, and the dynamic nature of God’s relationship with humanity.

Take the golden calf incident in Exodus 32. God, angered by the Israelites' idolatry, speaks to Moses of destroying them, calling them “your people, whom you brought out of Egypt.” It’s as if God distances Himself from their failure, yet Moses boldly counters, appealing to God’s promises and reputation. He pleads for mercy, invoking God’s covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and urges Him to “relent” from judgment. Similarly, in Numbers 14, after the Israelites refuse to enter Canaan, Moses again steps forward to intercede, reminding God of His steadfast love and reputation among the nations.

What’s striking is how the roles seem to reverse at times. 

Moses, often exasperated with the people, becomes their advocate, while God expresses righteous anger. Yet, this is no divine tantrum—it’s a moment where God invites Moses into the tension between judgment and mercy, teaching him (and us) the depth of covenant love. Moses doesn’t deny the people’s sins but prays for their restoration, embodying a leadership rooted in compassion and persistence.

These dialogues also highlight the mystery of prayer. 

In passages where God “relents” from judgment, such as Exodus 32:14, the Hebrew word nacham (translated as “repent” or “relent”) suggests a God willing to engage with human appeals. This doesn’t mean God changes His nature or ultimate purposes; instead, He invites human partnership, allowing prayer to influence His actions within the framework of His sovereign will. Moses’ prayers, grounded in God’s character and promises, show that bold, intercessory prayer is not about changing God’s mind but aligning ourselves with His heart.

For us, these exchanges teach profound lessons- especially about prayer.

Prayer can be bold, honest, and persistent—like Moses, we can bring our frustrations and fears to God while interceding for others, even those who frustrate us. Leadership, too, is illuminated here: true leaders, like Moses, bear the weight of their people’s struggles and seek their good, even when it’s hard. And ultimately, these moments foreshadow the ultimate mediator, Christ, who fully embodies advocacy, atonement, and the tension between justice and mercy.

The dialogues between God and Moses remind us of the transformative power of prayer—not just to ask for change but to align our hearts with God’s purposes, drawing us deeper into the mystery of His unchanging love.

I need to schedule some time to just pray....... how about you?

Yes, There is a Time to Let the Sun Go Down on Anger

You get angry. You have heard or seen something that just stews you.

You sit down and write the email or the text. The words pour out of you, fueled by frustration and white-hot anger. Your fingers hit the keys harder and faster with every sentence.

But here’s a piece of advice that could save you—and your relationships—a lot of regret:
Do not press "send."

Is there a Biblical basis for this? Absolutely. Scripture gives us timeless wisdom about the power of our words and the importance of restraint:

• Proverbs 17:27: "Whoever restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding."
• Ecclesiastes 5:2: "Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few."
• James 1:19: "Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger."

Why do I write this? Because I’ve been there. I’ve sent emails before that I deeply regret. Words sent in haste can hurt others, damage trust, and, worst of all, misrepresent Christ’s character in us.

This lesson was reinforced recently when I received an angry email from a very smart person. They were upset about something I’d published. I could see where their misunderstanding had come from—but they completely missed the context.

I replied with an honest apology for any confusion caused. I’m only guessing here, but I suspect they re-read my article—and their email—and wished they had let things cool before sending it.

That’s the key: let things cool. Whether it’s 24 hours, overnight, or even just a few hours, waiting can help you see the situation more clearly. Emotions that feel overwhelming in the moment often lose their intensity with time.

Here are a few practical tips to help you respond wisely in such moments:

1. Write, but don’t send.
   Open a blank document or email, and pour out your thoughts. Venting in a private space can be therapeutic, but keep it unsent. Treat it as a draft for your eyes only.

2. Wait and pray.
   Set a timer or decide on a cooling-off period—whether it’s a few hours, overnight, or even longer. Use that time to pray, asking God for wisdom, clarity, and a spirit of grace.

3. Seek counsel.
   Before replying, show your draft to a trusted friend or mentor. Ask if your tone is gracious and constructive or if it’s likely to escalate the conflict. Read it to your wife at least and say- "Should I send it now or wait?"

4. Focus on understanding.
   When you’re ready to respond, begin by seeking clarity. You might start with something like, “I want to make sure I understand your concern fully before replying.” This approach shows humility and a willingness to listen.

5. Keep it short and gracious.
   Respond with as few words as possible, and keep your tone calm and respectful. Proverbs 15:1 reminds us, "A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger."

6. Use scripture to guide your response.
   Before sending anything, ask yourself if your reply reflects the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

Email and texting are wonderful tools, but their speed makes it all too easy to react without reflection. A hasty response can burn bridges, but a measured one can build understanding and preserve relationships.

So, the next time you feel that urge to fire off a message in anger, stop. Walk away. Pray about it. And remember the wisdom of Proverbs 21:23:
"Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble."

Let’s strive to follow this wisdom. After all, it’s far better to leave an email unsent than to spend days—or even years—wishing we hadn’t hit "send."

“Let all your thinks be thanks.” - A Thanksgiving Devotion

 

The Bible’s Theme of Thankfulness

Scripture is filled with the call to gratitude:

• Ephesians 1:16 – “I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.”
• Ephesians 5:20 – “Giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
• Colossians 3:15 – “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.”
• Colossians 3:17 – “And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.”
• 1 Thessalonians 5:18 – “In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
• Psalm 107:1 – “Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever.”
• Psalm 118:24 – “This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Attitude of Gratitude

Yet we live in an age of entitlement. Too often, people—especially the young—expect everything to be handed to them, yet fail to value or appreciate what they receive. In a world where everything is taken for granted, the most tragic loss is a sense of gratitude.

A life without gratitude is bleak and isolating, where we quickly realize that a man doesn’t have to die to experience hell.

When I reflect on my upbringing, I am deeply grateful for the foundation it laid. My dad would occasionally take us out to eat, and my grandmother would use Sunday coupons for an Arby’s sandwich. In a family where treats like these were rare, we learned to be genuinely thankful for each blessing, big or small.

Contrast that with an experience I had early in ministry, working with teenage boys. Some of these 15-year-olds had already traveled the world—and were unimpressed by it. They viewed me, a teacher of the Bible, as someone who couldn’t measure up to their privileged experiences. How do you reach a young man who’s just returned from Rome, bored with it, and uninterested in God’s Word because “reading isn’t his thing”?

Still, I never stopped teaching them the hope of the gospel, the penalty of sin, and the inability of the world to satisfy. I prayed that the seeds of truth would take root when their fantasy worlds inevitably collapsed—worlds where they didn’t need a work ethic because their future was already bought and paid for.

Through these experiences, I’ve become more convinced than ever that gratitude is essential to walking daily with God. Gratitude flows from a humble heart, a heart illuminated by God’s truth. Saying “thank you” is good—but feeling thankfulness is even better.

In The Call, Os Guinness reminds us that calling compels us to live with gratitude:

“Let all your thinks be thanks.”

He quotes Dostoevsky’s sobering observation:

“The best definition of man is the ungrateful biped.”

A lack of gratitude erodes our dependence on God and trust in His goodness. It can sour the joy of calling, turning it into pride and eventually despair. Without gratitude, even religion becomes oppressive, legalistic, or apostate.

Gratitude—or the lack of it—was the root of humanity’s fall. In Genesis 3, Adam and Eve failed to appreciate the abundance God gave them. That ingratitude led them to sin.

Take time today to “count your blessings”—your life, health, family, home, technology, medicine, travel, beauty, laughter, and above all, the redemption found in Jesus Christ.

May we, like St. Francis, “walk the world like the Pardon of God.” Let gratitude shape our hearts, lives, and worship. Because gratitude is not just a response—it is an attitude.

Let Them Throw Stones

Life has a way of raining on us. Sometimes, it's a gentle drizzle—misunderstandings or small setbacks.

 Other times, it feels like a torrential storm—

opposition, criticism, or even betrayal. When we're in the middle of these storms, it’s tempting to lash out, defend ourselves, or demand justice. But what if we took another approach?

David, the shepherd-king of Israel, faced such a storm during one of the most painful seasons of his life. In 2 Samuel 16, as David fled from his son Absalom's rebellion, a man named Shimei hurled stones at him, both literal and figurative. Shimei accused David of being a man of blood and blamed him for the downfall of Saul's house. It was unjust. It was cruel. But David’s response was nothing short of remarkable.

When David’s warrior, Abishai, offered to kill Shimei, David stopped him, saying:

"Let him curse, because the Lord has said to him, 'Curse David.' Who then shall say, 'Why have you done so?'" (2 Samuel 16:10)

David chose not to fight back. Instead, he acknowledged that perhaps Shimei’s words, though painful, were part of God’s plan. He saw his suffering through the lens of humility and divine sovereignty.

A Posture of Humility

David’s response challenges us to take a posture of humility when stones are thrown our way. This doesn’t mean that every criticism or attack is justified, but it does mean recognizing that even opposition can be used by God to refine us. Sometimes, the rain of adversity is meant to wash away our pride, our need for control, or our false sense of righteousness.

Like David, we can ask:

What is God teaching me through this?

Is there a truth hidden in the criticism that I need to hear?

Can I trust God to be my defender instead of taking matters into my own hands?

When the Rain Feels Deserved

There’s another layer to David’s humility—he doesn’t deny his own faults. David had made terrible mistakes, including his sin with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah. While Shimei’s accusations were not entirely accurate, David might have felt that some of the stones he faced were a natural consequence of his past actions.

In the same way, we often face storms of our own making. A harsh word spoken in anger comes back to haunt us. A decision made in selfishness leads to relational fallout. In those moments, we can do what David did: accept the rain, confess our shortcomings, and trust in God's mercy to bring restoration.
Hope in the Storm

David’s hope in the middle of his humiliation is striking. He said:

"It may be that the Lord will look on the wrong done to me, and that the Lord will repay me with good for his cursing today." (2 Samuel 16:12)

David trusted that God saw his affliction and would act on his behalf in His own time. This trust allowed David to endure the stones without losing heart.

We, too, can find hope in the storm. God sees. God knows. And God promises that, for those who trust Him, even the worst storms will ultimately work for good (Romans 8:28).

When opposition comes your way—whether it's criticism, betrayal, or the natural consequences of your own failures—take a moment to pause. Instead of reacting in anger or despair, try adopting David’s posture:

Receive the rain with humility. 

Meekness is not weakness.

Ask God what He wants to teach you.

Trust that He sees your affliction and will bring good from it.

Let them throw stones. God is your refuge. He is your defender. And sometimes, the very rain we dread is what nourishes the growth we need most.

Link here:

Let Them Throw Stones

Verse 1
I’m walking through the valley, where the shadows stretch so wide,
Their voices rise like thunder, throwing shame from every side.
But I won’t raise my fist; I’ll let their anger fly,
For my refuge is the Maker who hears every cry.

Chorus
Let them throw stones, let them rain down,
I’ll stand here in the storm until mercy comes around.
What they mean for harm, You will use for good,
So let them throw stones—I’ll trust You as I should.

Verse 2
The road I walk is heavy with the guilt I cannot hide,
But grace walks right beside me, keeping hope alive inside.
I don’t deserve the shelter, but You cover me with love,
And every stone that strikes me builds a ladder to above.

Chorus
Let them throw stones, let them rain down,
I’ll stand here in the storm until mercy comes around.
What they mean for harm, You will use for good,
So let them throw stones—I’ll trust You as I should.

Bridge
In the curse, there’s a blessing I can’t yet see,
In the pain, there’s a purpose meant to set me free.
You’re the calm in the chaos, the hope in the haze,
And every stone they throw turns to grace upon grace.

Chorus
Let them throw stones, let them rain down,
I’ll stand here in the storm until mercy comes around.
What they mean for harm, You will use for good,
So let them throw stones—I’ll trust You as I should.

Outro
Let them throw stones, let the world rage,
I’m walking in Your light through every darkest stage.
Each stone they throw is paving the road
To the home where You’ll dry every tear I’ve ever known.

Gatsby at Mar-a-lago

This post must have hit a nerve. I have gotten feedback ranging from - "I didn't know you were anti-Trump" to "I didn't know you were pro-Trump" LOL

Note: You can hear the song here:

Gatsby at Mar-a-lago

Yes.... I know! Gatsby never went to Mar-a-lago in the novel. But it is not anachronistic-

Gatsby's Fictional Timeline:
F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby is set in the summer of 1922, and Gatsby himself is in his early 30s during the story. This situates his formative years (e.g., during World War I) in the 1910s.

Mar-a-Lago's Real Timeline:
Mar-a-Lago, the grand estate in Palm Beach, Florida, was built by Marjorie Merriweather Post between 1924 and 1927. It was intended as a winter retreat and is renowned for its opulence.

Fictional Feasibility:By 1924, Gatsby (if we imagine him surviving the events of the novel) would still be alive in his mid-30s, potentially reeling from his shattered dream of Daisy. It's conceivable that a man of Gatsby's social ambition and wealth would visit the newly completed Mar-a-Lago, especially given its reputation as a glamorous retreat for the elite. This could align with Gatsby’s pursuit of status and reinvention.

The green light at the end of Daisy’s dock—one of the most haunting symbols in The Great Gatsby—has lingered in my mind for years. 

"If it wasn't for the mist we could see your home across the bay... You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 5

Nick Carraway: Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

 That flickering beacon embodies hope, but also the futility of chasing dreams grounded in flawed human ambition. Recently, as I reflected on the celebrations surrounding the U.S. election, I found myself revisiting Gatsby’s poignant image of hope against the mist, connecting it to both caution and faith.

Like Jay Gatsby, who believed he could rewrite the past and secure a future with Daisy, we often place our hopes in things that can’t truly deliver. In our current moment, the opulence of Mar-a-Lago provides a fitting backdrop for a Gatsby-like reminder: while we celebrate victories—whether personal, political, or cultural—we must remain vigilant about where we place our ultimate trust.

Rudyard Kipling’s poem Recessional, written during the height of British imperial pride, offers a similar warning. Kipling’s refrain, “Lest we forget—lest we forget,” calls nations to humility before God, reminding us that pride untethered from divine guidance leads to downfall. The empire’s dominion “over palm and pine” was no match for the enduring power of repentance and faith.

This brings me back to the green light. While Gatsby’s hope was tragically misplaced, Christian hope is of an entirely different nature. It isn’t wishful thinking or blind optimism. It is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the “living hope” that transcends time and circumstance. Unlike Gatsby’s dream, which was already out of reach, this hope is both secure and transformative.

But as we anchor ourselves in this eternal hope, we must also recognize the battle we face. Today’s threats aren’t limited to political policies or economic trends—they are the ideas and strongholds that exalt themselves against the knowledge of God. The push for a globalist utopia often comes cloaked in promises of equality and progress, yet it frequently masks a desire for control that stifles freedom of speech, religious liberty, and the dignity of individual conscience. These ideas aren’t just political; they’re spiritual. They aim to replace God’s truth with man’s hubris.

Ephesians 6 reminds us that our struggle isn’t against flesh and blood but against rulers, authorities, and powers of this dark world. The enemy is not people but the ideologies that entrap them. Just as Kipling warned against the pride of empire, we must resist the pride of modern globalism that seeks to impose a counterfeit kingdom. The true kingdom, after all, belongs to Christ, and His dominion will never fade.

As I reflect on the current political landscape, I am encouraged by the opportunity to reclaim principles of freedom and reform. But I am also reminded that our battle isn’t merely political—it is spiritual. Real hope begins not with policies or leaders but with repentance and faith in Christ. Only then can we tear down strongholds and bring every thought into obedience to Him.

So while we celebrate, let us also remain sober-minded. The fight ahead will demand courage and perseverance. And as we labor, may we anchor ourselves not in fleeting dreams but in the eternal assurance of God’s promises.

A better America begins with me... and we have a small window now to pray for the rise of the American church. These are FRAGILE times and a nuclear winter is not out of the realm of possibilities! WE NEED THE LORD!

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet—lest we forget. 

The Bible presents a COMPLETELY different hope and a definition of 'faith' that may surprise us.

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
I Thessalonians 4:13 Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.
I Peter 1:3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
Hebrews 11:6 And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.

COUNTER THE ABOVE VERSES WITH THE EMPTY DREAMS OF JAY GATSBY

"And as I sat there, brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out Daisy's light at the end of his dock. He had come such a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close he could hardly fail to grasp it. But what he did not know was that it was already behind him, somewhere in the vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 9


"He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 3

"what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 1

AS I CLOSE, MY PRAYER IS THAT YOU WOULD ASK THE GOD OF THE UNIVERSE TO FORGIVE US AND THAT WE WOULD HUMBLY BOW THE THRONE OF YOUR HEART TO HIM. THE DOOR OF MERCY IS OPEN- AND OUR HOPE IN THE RISEN CHRIST IS SEALED BY HIS HOLY SPIRIT. IT IS NOT OUR GOODNESS THAT WILL SAVE US- IT IS HIS GOODNESS- PROVEN BY HIS SACRIFICE FOR US.

WHAT OTHER HOPE DO WE HAVE?