46 today. I met him half a lifetime ago when he came to Grace Powell Church as our new youth pastor. We became fast friends. Been together ever since. I seared him up and out a long, long time ago. He’s been flying his way since I told him he couldn’t take the ring and stay in the Shire.

Blondie is 61 today. He’s been a good friend since he started riding with us over a decade ago. Heading back to France with these two, downer, Littlest, and Brother Mick in 196 days. We’ll climb the hardest Tour de France mountains over 8 grueling days of goodness. If you focus on the pain you’ll soon be miserable and hoping off the bike. Looking left and right – the beauty magnetically pulls you up. The thoughts you water matter. Water wisely, friends…

Close relationships are like the French Alps – beauty and beast. Bummer and blessing. Poison and wine. Bitter and sweet. Home is where the heart and hurt take up residence. Most men mask the pain while most women are rumens and chew the cud. I’m wired more like a woman. I chew the cud and make a catastrophe out of simple conflict. I’m slowing learning to keep working when on the mountain or in the midst of relational strain. Most conflict, remember, is simply a conversation to be had. Stop wishing those you love would understand you. Give the gift. Get them. And, be ccd about what you want. Wish less. Want more. Happy birthday friends. I pray you will focus wisely.

And, don’t forget to smile and just keep pedaling. Good…

1 thought on “Pj’s…

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