There’s a phrase I’ve heard a thousand times: “It’s not how you start, it’s how you finish.” And I get it—finishing matters. Finishing builds legacy. Finishing earns respect.
But here’s the part people forget:
If you don’t start… you can’t finish.
You can literally change the entire trajectory of your life with one simple decision—a start. A first step. A moment when faith rises just enough to push you forward. A moment where something inside you says, “Okay… let’s do this.”
We underestimate that moment. We underestimate the power packed into a beginning.
Because starting is emotional. Starting holds both excitement and anxiety. Starting whispers possibilities while fear whispers what-ifs.
And yet… every meaningful thing in our lives—every breakthrough, every relationship, every change, every accomplishment—was born in that fragile little moment called start.
It’s why I love Mondays. Most people dread them. I welcome them.
Monday is a built-in reminder from God: Here’s a fresh start. A reset. A new mercy. A clean page where nothing has been written yet.
Our lives are full of endless possibilities—but possibilities don’t become reality until we decide to move. At some point, we have to stop rehearsing the excuses, stop overthinking the risks, stop polishing the plans… and just start.
Start the habit. Start the conversation. Start the healing. Start the business. Start the apology. Start the prayer. Start the walk. Start the change.
It doesn’t have to be pretty. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to begin.
Because that first little step—the one nobody else notices—that’s the one that unlocks the finish line.
So today, whatever dream God has been whispering to your heart… whatever assignment you’ve been delaying… whatever change you know you need to make…
For years now, the classic Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich has been America’s favorite. In fact, it has ranked #1 most beloved fast-food sandwich in survey after survey, year after year — even topping national polls for the past decade. Think about that. In a world overflowing with options, combinations, “secret menus,” and over-engineered creations, the simplest sandwich of them all consistently rises to the top.
A bun. A piece of chicken. And a pickle.
That’s it.
No elaborate toppings. No complicated sauces. No fourth-degree-of-heat spice scale. Just simple. Yet somehow, it tastes better than the sandwiches that try ten times harder.
The natural question is: why?
Most people say it’s the way the chicken is seasoned or the magic of the coating. Others swear it’s the pickle. But the real secret — the thing most people never even notice — has nothing to do with the sandwich at all.
It’s the package.
Yep. That little foil-lined pouch the sandwich sits in is the unsung hero. Chick-fil-A figured out that keeping heat and steam sealed in preserves every bit of flavor. Because of that foil lining, the sandwich tastes just as good 30 minutes after it’s cooked as it does the second it comes off the line. The secret of its success is where nobody is looking.
And you know… the same is true for us.
We spend so much time working on the part of ourselves the world sees — the “sandwich,” if you will. Our appearance. Our accomplishments. Our intelligence. Our polish. We keep working on the outside because that’s what the world reacts to. People respond to what they can see, so we keep presenting, shaping, editing, improving.
But what if the true secret to our lives — the flavor, the warmth, the impact — lives in a place no one else is looking?
I believe it’s in what we believe.
It’s in the internal “foil lining” of our lives: How we see the world. How we interpret people. How we define ourselves.
Do I see good or evil around me? Is the world for me or against me? Am I a victim or a victor?
Nobody forces us to choose. Nobody demands that we believe one way or another. It’s 100% in our control — the one area no one else can touch. Yet it is the single most important thing we can do for ourselves, and maybe for the world around us.
We don’t always need to change the sandwich. Most days, we just need a better package — one built from hope, perspective, gratitude, and truth.
Choose wisely.
And here you were thinking it was all about the chicken. 🍗
I’m not sure how I feel about arriving here… It’s a milestone that was always coming…but for some reason…it always seems a long way off…but now it’s here. Now that I’ve arrived, should I celebrate it? Probably. Some of my friends never made it here, so yes, I should celebrate. But it doesn’t feel like a ‘whoo hoo’ celebration. Instead, it calls for a reflective acknowledgment of the journey ahead, which will be much different from the path that led me here.
It seems like the path forward will require me to carry a lighter load than before. I can no longer count on my physical stamina and strength to make up for my shortcomings. I need to be smarter, wiser, and more deliberate moving forward. I’ll need to carry a lighter load and make sure I’m more intentional about how I use my resources since they are fewer now.
This milestone is about taking off my backpack and sitting down for a moment. It’s about looking back on all the beauty that God has allowed me to experience. It’s about wondering how on earth I was blessed to have the life I have enjoyed thus far. It’s about thinking of all the people I’ve met and relationships I’ve had and appreciating all of the impact each and everyone of them have had on my life. It’s being thankful and grateful and just basking in those memories for a while and thanking God for His love of me and His grace.
It’s also about going through my backpack and removing those things I no longer need. Things that have weight to them I can no longer carry. Dreams, hopes and desires that I need to let go. Some of which include, hiking the entire length of the Appalachian Trail probably needs to go, owning a house on a lake probably won’t happen, having a single digit handicap in golf is probably gone for good as well and many others… Giving them up is difficult. The voice in my head is constantly asking me, “are you sure you want to let this one go? ” …and reluctantly the answer is yes.
As difficult as this is…it’s also a time to make sure the things I still have in my backpack will be utilized and needed for the remainder of my journey. They are items that may have only been sparingly used in the past, but will be significant to my success moving forward. Some of these areas include realizing the importance of relationships, taking care of my health, watching what I eat, growing deeper spiritually, being a good steward of my finances, shielding myself from negativity and others… The journey ahead will be challenging in new ways and I’m going to need new tools, skills and attitudes.
65 is a mile marker that I’m grateful to have achieved. I’ve been blessed beyond words. My life has been nothing like I had dreamed of yet remarkable beyond my imagination. It’s now time to move on… It’s time to get up, load my new backpack on to my sore shoulders and continue on an upward path.
I’m mindful of the new feel on my shoulders and while it’s not markably heavier, it is markably different. I’m going to need to slow my pace and at the same time be more mindful to enjoy the views. I’m above the treeline now and the view is nothing but mountaintops and clouds. Yet I’m also exposed to the elements and can no longer seek the protection from the trees. This is no time to be reckless if I plan on completing my journey successfully.
The great thing about hiking is you never really know what is around the bend, or what the view is going to look like once you reach the ridge. The view is always new and changing. The camera cannot capture its beauty, nor can you share the peace that is felt in the silence of your thoughts. The wind, the sun, the crunch of each step on the path is the soundtrack of the day. Yet one thing is certain…the path that I’m on is the one that was made just for me and for how ever long it continues…I know where I’ll end up…home.
There used to be an infomercial on TV that was made famous by Ron Popeil regarding a little rotisserie oven… He would say, “Set it and forget it!” That is all that would be required. Put the food in, set the timer and it would be perfectly cooked when the timer went off.
Unfortunately, there is little in life that we can expect to come out perfectly without at least some type of maintenance and work. In fact, I would say there is nothing in life that you can truly “set it and forget it!”
We all have multiple aspects of our lives that we try to maintain. Work demands, family needs, relationships, physical responsibilities, spiritual needs as well as the things outside of ourselves, home maintenance, car, finances, and the list goes on and on. Think about all the things, both internal and external that require some aspect of your time and attention. It’s a daunting thought! The question then becomes…how are you doing?
When areas of your life get ignored, expect weeds. Nobody wants a life full of weeds because over time they just get worse and worse. If weeds remain too long, things begin to deteriorate. Weeds don’t go away by themselves. Their removal requires diligence, focus, and effort and we usually get a little dirty during the process. If you’re like me, weeding wears me out. I’m physically sore and exhausted after weeding.
Life is no different. The only way to keep weeds out of your life is to regularly spend the time to remove them in their earliest stages. The effort is minimal, but yet still required. It is relatively painless but still requires diligence, focus, and at least some degree of effort.
Every so often I make a list of everything I am responsible for. Then I ask myself, “How am I doing in that area?” This exercise always results in several areas in my life I have either neglected entirely or need immediate attention. Then I try to keep this list in front of me for a time so I’m aware of areas I need to maintain.
Unfortunately, having a perfectly manicured life is only a temporary state. Weeds can and will return. However, it is worth those brief moments when you can step back and enjoy the fruits of your labor.
Stay on top of your life. Ron Popeil’s tagline should have been, “Set it and forget it….will make you regret it!”
In the rhythm of my own life, I’ve learned something about myself that I wish I’d picked up years ago: not every day is built the same. Some days pull me toward people… and others push me straight into the quiet corners of work and responsibility. I call them People Days and Paper Days, and honestly, naming them has helped me breathe a little easier.
People Days are the ones where my calendar is full, my phone seems to ring nonstop, and I’m bouncing between conversations, meetings, and moments that ask for my emotional energy. These are days where I’m “on”—listening, encouraging, answering questions, working through problems, trying to be present for the people who matter to me.
Sometimes these days fill me up. Sometimes they wear me out. But almost always, they remind me why relationships are such a gift. God wired us for connection, and even on the days when I’m running on fumes, there’s something sacred in those interactions.
And then there are Paper Days.
These are the days when, honestly, I’d rather just hole up somewhere with a cup of coffee and work. No small talk. No meetings. Just me and whatever task has been staring at me for far too long. Paper Days give me room to think, to plan, to sort out the mess that lives in my inbox and—if I’m being really honest—the mess that sometimes lives in my head.
I’ve started giving myself permission not to force one kind of day to become the other. If it’s a People Day, I lean into it. If it’s a Paper Day, I don’t feel guilty for turning inward. Both types of days serve a purpose. Both shape me. Both move me forward in different ways.
The real trick is paying attention. Just asking myself, “What kind of day do I have in front of me?” And then letting it be that.
Some days I give. Some days I regroup. Some days I pour out. Some days I refill.
And maybe that’s the quiet wisdom of it all—recognizing the rhythm instead of fighting it. Because when I stop trying to cram everything into every day, life feels a little more manageable… and a lot more peaceful.
We have banana trees in our backyard. I love them. My wife hates them. I love them because they have huge leaves and look so tropical. My wife views them as a weed. She is bound and determined to rid our backyard of them. She routinely will go out with clippers in hand and cut them completely down. The first time she did, I got upset and stewed about it for days. Then before I knew it, I saw a small green stalk emerging from the stump that was left behind. I smiled, knowing that soon…I would have a banana tree again…and sure enough I did.
This scenario has been played out several times over the years. Each time, the banana trees coming back…healthier and more plentiful. And each time, I smile. I love my banana trees.
What I’ve learned about banana trees is that their root system is extensive. It extends over a huge area and although it can’t be seen, it is constantly at work supplying the stumps with everything they need to make a full recovery regardless of the attacks from insects, animals or wives with garden tools. The roots win…every time.
Why do I think about roots and banana trees?
Because much the same way,…I love my “roots.” I love my Southern heritage. I love the history of my family as I have researched it over the years. I love traditions. I love our Country. I love the flag. I love standing for the National Anthem and I love saying the Pledge of Allegiance. I love my faith and my church. I love being an American.
Granted, looking back at history…it may not have been pretty or perfect…but neither am I. It was what is was and whatever that was, it helped to make me…me. Roots aren’t pretty…but they aren’t supposed to be either. They have a job to do. That job is to supply stability and life sustaining nutrients to everything that they are connected to. I’ll say it again…I love my roots.
I know the culture of today may not look kindly upon the roots that made America…America. They weren’t perfect or pretty…but again…they weren’t supposed to be…they were meant to supply life to an idea that a Country that was rooted in the Word of God could thrive.
So go ahead and tear down the statues, change the names of our holidays, change the history books and anything else that offends you…but remember…just like the banana tree…the roots win!
Growing up as a kid, my favorite cartoon was “Rock-a-Bye Bear”…
Quiet…I want Quiet!
These days, it seems like everyone has something to say. Everyone has a belief or opinion. But if everyone is talking, who is listening? Unfortunately, no one.
Everyone has a voice…but how often and when you use it is up to you.
How do you know?
God gave us one mouth, but he also gave us two ears. So that makes it pretty clear to me that the way we were made was to use what we were given in the proper ratio:
One of my favorite new pastimes is walking our dog, Maggie. I get my exercise, she gets her exercise and we are both so much better for it. But we don’t just hook up the leash and go for it…as we have both learned from our obedience school lessons…there is a correct way to walk… and an incorrect way to walk.
The correct way to walk (to heel) keeps Maggie on a loose leash on my left side. She walks even with me and sometimes slightly behind. In this position, I am the leader and I can turn left or right or take an abrupt about-face and she can move with me with ease because she is close to me and can easily see me. Her being in this position is not restrictive to her either because I can also easily keep an eye on her and when she needs to sniff or “take a break” I can simply slow down or stop. I lead, she follows and we both enjoy our walk.
Conversely, the incorrect way for her to walk is ahead of me. As she moves ahead of me, she loses sight of me. Losing sight of me means that she becomes the leader and the decision maker and as I have learned about dogs…they don’t like to make decisions, they need a leader…it stresses them out if they feel they have to lead. So now we have a stressed-out Maggie out in front of me and “pulling” on the leash. (If dogs feel tension on the leash, they naturally feel the need to pull against it…I learned that in “doggie school” too.) So she’s stressed out and pulling against me and now when I want to turn left or right or around, the only way to do so makes me pull on her leash…which creates more stress…in her and in me. The walk becomes a struggle. The enjoyment is gone.
Despite the pulling, the stress, and the anxiety…she always feels the need to initially take the lead and to get out in front of me on our walks. So each time, I have to spend the first few minutes of our walk (and sometimes more…) “reminding her” to heel…and here’s how I do it…
When she takes off and begins to walk ahead, I can tell that she is no longer keeping tabs on me. She is lost in the new smells, the sights, and the countless other things competing for her attention. Once I see that she is no longer aware of my presence…I’ll simply stop walking abruptly and hold tight to the leash. The result is she quickly gets to the end of the leash and she suffers the shock of an immediate “correction”. Meaning…she gets the heck jerked out of herself.
The extent of the jerk is never my doing…it’s always based on the speed and momentum of her moving away from me. The quicker she leaves me…the stronger the impact of the jerk will be when she reaches the end of the leash.
Sometimes I’ll have to start and stop walking several times in a row and each time she’ll jerk, stop and look at me and then when we start walking again…she’ll take off and I’ll stop and she’ll jerk and we do it several times and then she finally catches on. She’ll take off and I’ll stop and she’ll take another step and realize I’ve stopped and then she’ll stop and look back at me until I start walking again. This is our “dance” over who will be the leader of the walk. We do it every night.
The best nights are when we both slowly walk out the front door and slowly turn down onto the sidewalk. One stop and she’s reminded and then she returns to my side (or slightly behind) and off we go. Loose leash, no anxiety, both of us enjoying the walk and each other’s company…
So why go into so much detail about walking a dog…?
Well, I think sometimes God must feel the same way about us. He knows where we should be in relation to Him. He knows that when we keep Him in our sights, our lives are better and we are happier and safer. In essence, he wants us to “heel”.
Yet, we don’t. Like Maggie, each day we take off with our own ideas, agendas, thoughts, beliefs, and needs and it’s not too long before we suffer for it. God simply stops walking and we get jerked by our own doings.
I’ve learned a lot about myself from Maggie. We are more alike than I care to admit. I love that dog with all of my heart and it breaks my heart to see her “corrected” each time we walk. But I just have to love her enough to let her experience the “correction” that she has created by leaving me.
So when I’m feeling stressed, anxious, or frustrated about something, I now think about Maggie and our walks and I ask myself…
As they say, when one door closes, another one opens…and it sure did.
Several weeks after we lost Finn, our 13-year-old poodle, we welcomed into our family Maggie, a 10-year-old Goldendoodle rescue. To say she is a sweetheart is a dramatic understatement, but with all that goodness comes 10 years of baggage that we are seeing glimpses of each day. We were told by her foster parents, that she needed to be “socialized” because she gets really anxious around new people and other animals. We immediately saw that and we have since been adding to that list…cars, trucks, bicycles, noises on TV, and leaves that blow in the wind to name a few… but nonetheless…we love her and all her baggage…God knows we have enough baggage for her as well.
So in an effort to help her cope with those things that have been a negative impact on her previous 10 years of life, we decided to enroll her in a doggy training academy. Each day I take Maggie to doggy daycare where trainers try to help her unlearn some bad behaviors and teach her some new behaviors as well. She’s been great about it all and I can really start to see some progress…but we have a long road ahead.
As part of our enrollment into the academy, they gave us a book to read about dog training, it’s called “Smile!” by Lynne Swanson, DVM. One of the initial chapters of the book really impacted me and I’ll share it below:
“Whether or not anyone is watching, please look up from the book and smile. Even if you don’t feel like smiling, do it anyway. Allow yourself an honest, up-to-your-eyes, laugh-line-creating, smile. I’ll wait.
Did you notice the relaxed breath that followed your smile? Smiles trigger them. Do you notice reduced tension in your shoulders and neck? Perhaps less stiffness in your posture? Smiles help there, too. Smiles are very powerful. If a stranger smiles at you from across the room, you tend to smile back, don’t you? You may even feel in the moment, happier about yourself and a bit more trusting of others.
That is how dogs feel when people offer genuine smiles. Smiles convey a heck of a lot more than words do, and what our facial muscles do to all our other muscles when we smile says volumes about us when we communicate with nonverbal species. As a pretty darn verbal species, we tend to forget that.”
The chapter goes on to say that the author rewards her dogs with only sincere, relaxed smiles. No dog biscuits, no “good dogs” or baby talk…smiles relax dogs and lower their energy level and they are always with you, unlike biscuits or treats.
Since reading this, I’ve made a conscious effort to smile more…way more!
I’m not much of a natural “smile person” and often think of my smile as that look I had the first time I ate broccoli. Not a good look. Regardless, I’ve been smiling and it seems to work! On Maggie and also on ME! I can give Maggie a big smile and immediately I’m in a different state of mind. No longer am I thinking about all the tasks that need to be accomplished that day or who or what had “ticked me off” in some way…but I really think I’m a better version of ME! All by smiling at my dog! Who knew!?
Looks like Maggie isn’t the only one going to school these days…!
Finn was my constant companion when I hurt my ankle…
I’ll bet that anyone that has had a pet has been heartbroken at one time or another. I am living in that space right now.
Finn is 13 years old. Like many pets, certainly dogs, he is a perfect example of pure love, forgiveness, and being present. He never worries, holds grudges, or is in a bad mood. He has been an incredible friend and part of the family. As I write this, my eyes are filling with tears and the lump in my throat is making it difficult to swallow…because I know what is coming and it is breaking my heart.
Finn is suffering. He tries to hide it, but it’s getting the best of him. Not to get into specifics, my wife and I have come to the realization that we need to put an end to his suffering and allow ours to begin for a while… So tomorrow, we are going to have someone come to our house and have him put down.
….no words…
This morning coming to work, I was wrestling with that inevitable decision. I was praying as I drove to work and asking God to give me the strength to be able to go thru with it and then be able to comfort my wife for the difficult days to follow…then it hit me…
This is Easter week. Friday is Good Friday. If I am feeling this way knowing what I know I have to do tomorrow…I now know (in a very small way) how God must have felt knowing what He had to do…
It’s amazing how many Easters I have experienced and how often I have read about and meditated on what Jesus willingly did for us…but I never thought about the anguish of God and what He was going through knowing that He was the one that would end the life of the one he loved so dearly… I can’t imagine…but now I have a small sense of the pain that must have been caused.
God did what needed to be done…regardless of the pain that it caused him. He did it for love. Love for His son and an even greater love for us…His creation. God did it for love.
Now I must do the same.
Finn has brought me an incredible amount of joy and happiness. He is being called home to begin his “forever life” and I need to release him to go…regardless of the pain. I need to do it for love…too.
The tears…the lump in my throat that won’t go away reminds me of that love…the love I have given and the love I have received.
Easter will be different this year…and probably for years to come with the realization of what love really looks…and feels like…. It’s not always pleasant…
