We know mercy is always our salvation—as we age, as our grandchildren go down the same dark streets that called to their parents, as the ice caps melt. But I wish it was something else. I wish it was being able to figure things out, at which I am very good, or to assign blame, at which I am better, or to convince people of the rightness of my ideas. I wish it was a political savior who believes the same things I believe, who possesses the force of great moral strength that (of course) agrees with my own deepest values. But no, hope of renewal and restoration is found in the merciful fibrillating heart of the world.

Anne Lamott, Hallelujah Anyway [emphasis mine]

I’ve never been a racing fan in my life, even though I’ve lived most of my life within 15 miles of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. But I’ll admit it. At the end of my life I’ve been enjoying sports car racing immensely. It makes me sad that Sebring ends the IMSA season, but I’ll be watching other series and lots of reruns.


I’ve been studying the book(s) of Samuel. Today I read the story of David, Bathsheba, and Uriah. Although the story is 3000 years old, it makes me sick at my stomach.

Serious question: is “Indian summer” still a term that can be used? Is there a good alternative besides “an unseasonably warm spell in the autumn”?

God’s Peace

The peace of God is worth far more than any earthly sense of security. If you feel at loose ends because you are unhappy with the election results, I encourage you to let go of that particular quest for internal peace and cling to the Father.

This peace is unlike anything in the world.