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Club 54 Is Closed!

Well, the day has come. When I’m 54 is today. I don’t feel older. I mean, I’m tired, but it’s just after midnight and today was a long one. Maybe when I wake up - after having a good night’s sleep - I’ll feel worse - I’ll feel my age. On the other hand, maybe not. This afternoon, I was honored to spend a few hours in the home of a married couple - both octogenarians - who have meant a lot to me since I first met them in the late 1900’s. They are still as awesome as I remember them to be. Totally dedicated to Jesus - totally in love with each other - totally committed to their family and totally extending grace to OTHERS. It occurs to me, as I’m writing this blog entry, that they were - pretty much - my age now, back in the day - and I’ll be where they are one day in the future, (he typed, hopefully). In spite of this blog’s subtitle, I am on the other side of mid-life, and I forgot to have a crises. Actually, I’ve had several, but I just refer to them as a Seattle Mariners baseball sea
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When You’re (not) A Rebel!

In 1985, the year I graduated from A.J. Dimond High School, a SoCal band called the Altar Boys released their sophomore album; When You’re a Rebel. The band of brothers & sisters I ran around with loved it! That's the way it is When you're a Rebel!  the world is just so  different from you When you're a Rebel!  they don't understand  the things you do When you're a Rebel!  you got to make a stand Cause we're getting close to the end Yea gotta say it like it is man When you're a rebel! The thing is, I wasn’t a rebel - not really. Don’t get me wrong, there was tons of stuff I didn’t want to do; clean dishes, go to bed at a decent hour, eat in a healthy manner, exercise, etc. I was fairly consistent in my rebellion against those things and a few others. But when it came to taking a stand against things right in front of me that weren’t right…rebel fail. The fact that I had no tattoo or piercings didn’t improve my rebel rep. I did have a leather jacket, a b
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Dad, Dead and Gone

NOTE: Written in the Summer of 2020   Couldn't cuss, couldn't cry, couldn't crawl Threw my hands up in the face of it all So  this is what it's like to be the child Of a man who's dead and gone. -Charlie Peacock   In 1994, when I was only 27, I had no concept of the deep truth and meaning of these lyrics. To be honest, I thought it was a bit crass of the artist (one of my favorites) to speak of his father in that way – dead and gone. At that time, my own father was 64 – not yet retired and full of life. From the day of this writing, he would’ve been 90 - would’ve been.    There all kinds of ways to refer to what happened; he went to be with Jesus, he passed, he’s playing in the band on high (whatever that means), etc. The Christian movement in which I serve (The Salvation Army) uses the term “Promoted to Glory.” I’ve grown up with those words being strung together, so I’m in agreement. To someone who hasn’t grown up with the phrase, however, an explanation of our mo
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Old, but New-ish at This!

My name's rob and I’m in recovery...from a certain, blue + white social media platform. It’s been one day. I mean no disrespect to those in recovery. Some of my favorite people came to a point in their life when they had to admit their powerlessness over something. I admire them beyond words! I’m pretty positive that between me and that particular social media conglomerate, I was losing, badly.  I really don’t have anything against my Ex. It was me, not it. The subject of food comes to mind, but I digress (‘cause I’m gettin’ hungry). Anyway, I do need or want a venue in which to share some of my thoughts/questions/experiences, etc. This may be it. We’ll see. For the year of 2011 - while living and serving in San Francisco, CA. - I wrote a fairly regular blog titled; A.I.M. The acronym stood for Authentic - Innovative - Missional. I had a brief thought, in my younger days, that I had some stuff to share on the topic of leadership. Now, I know that - 10 years ago - I didn’t even kn
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