I grew up believing in the Christian conversion experience.

You know, being “born again.” The heavens parting, light streaming, doves descending, operatic voices in chorus.

I went down into the baptismal waters a sinner: Sinful behavior, sinful feelings, sinful thoughts. I expected to rise from those waters a saint. All that old sin down the drain like dirt in a bathtub. I was sure I would never fall short or miss the mark again.

In fact, my darkest, deepest, most compulsive sins were still my future.

Practically speaking, that’s one of the great disadvantages of baptism before puberty. You’re a 12-year old saint and almost overnight you become a raging, staggering sinner with an obsession for boobs.

They say males think about sex every seven seconds (or 8,000 times a day). Once sex became the tick-tock metronome of my mind, all bets on sainthood were off. As a baptized Christian...

Something happened to my prayers. They stopped being prayer-like.

Growing up, I learned a formula for prayer:

First, start with an address: “Dear God” or “Father in Heaven.”

Next, praise God: “You are so good. You are so very great.”

Thanksgiving: “Thank you for this day and all the blessings in it.”

Get my sins out of the way before asking for things: “Please forgive my sins and help me to do better.”

Petition: “Please help Grandmama get well soon. And please help me get a good grade on the chemistry test.”

Throw in some added praise for good measure: “You are so very, very great.”

Humbly: “Not my will, but your will be done.”

Name drop: “In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

This formula served me well from around kindergarten until sometime in my early 30s. I sometimes still use it when praying in public or when I’m with my three-year old.

When I’m alone, however, “the formula” is...

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is for the here and now, the nitty and the gritty. It’s for the nine o'clock staff meeting, and “what’s for dinner?” It’s for expanding waistlines and shrinking bank balances. It’s for oil changes, potty training, and “we need to have a talk.” It’s for annual reviews, expense reports, and “the doctor will see you now.”

Every once in awhile life feels exultant. Most of the time it feels like the tenth straight day of drive-thru supper. Sometimes it feels like a night in the ER.

What are the words that go through your mind as you go through life?

“I’m not __________ enough.”

“I can’t _______________.”

“What if _______________?”

The Gospel wants to give you new words for this life you’re living. Words that renew your mind and transform you from the inside out (Romans 12.2).

In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus Christ has a habit of saying the same thing over...

I’m living in a situation I never imagined I would find acceptable or even tolerable a few years ago.

My house is a mess.

As I write this, I count no fewer than 40-odd toys about the living room. A painting my son and wife started together is sloppily draped across some furniture to dry. A stack of cake supplies (my wife is a professional cake decorator) stands in the doorway to the kitchen. More toys are on the dining room table next to an empty Starbucks cup (my wife seems incapable of walking ten steps to the recycling bin).

Oh, but I feel such joy and love when I look at this mess.

I had a perfectly clean and tidy apartment when I was a neatnik twentysomething. Yes, my apartment was spotless right down to the bare walls and empty shelves.

You already get where I’m going with this, right?

The clutter that surrounds me now is a sign of life. The mess means I’m living in love.

If you are a United States citizen, this is an appeal to you to cast your vote for the next president come November. You have a civic duty that also happens to be a precious privilege bought with blood. Don’t piss on that just because you deem yourself better than any of the candidates. If you have the energy to complain about politics, you have the energy to do your homework and go vote. You’re in the game whether you want to be or not. So make a play.

You also hold the future in your hands. You may feel like just a little snowflake, but millions of snowflakes can make a mighty avalanche. On election day, you are the president. Your family, friends, and future generations are depending on you to make a wise decision. If you punt on that decision, you’re no better than the politicians you criticize. Go vote and be the kind of leader you want your leaders to be.

Vote early and often...

What seems to be the greatest threat to my career is also the reason I have a career: My family.

I work for my family. It’s not just about the money I need to earn to support us now and in the future. It’s about who I’m becoming as a man. It’s about how what I do every day affects what I do every morning and night when I’m with my son and my wife.

I quit my job in July 2013 and started my own company because I didn’t like who I was and who I was becoming in my former career track. I recognized that if I didn’t change course, my son was going to grow up with a dad who was not a good role model. I recognized that if I didn’t change course, my wife would go through life with a hollow husband. Both of them would live with a man seeping the pollution of anger, bitterness, discouragement, and fear into their lives.

I’m serious about making myself into the kind of man who can be the best...

The other day I wrote a post called “Voting American-ly. Voting Christian-ly.” It was an attempt to explain what is behind my decision to vote for Hillary Clinton for President of the United States.

This post is not about voting, but campaigning. It’s one thing to be thoughtful about casting your own vote. It’s another thing to be thoughtful about how you try to persuade others to cast their votes.

Since coming out for Hillary Clinton a few days ago, I think I’ve written more about empathy and understanding than during any other period in my life.

When sharing my decision for the first time, I tried not to share it like a flamethrower shares flames. I tried to be matter-of-fact without a hint of contempt or disrespect for anyone. I wanted my announcement to be an invitation for the curious and something of a challenge for the not curious.

Some people took offense anyway. I...

This week I announced to my social media network that I will vote for Hillary Clinton for President of the United States.

Over my adult life, I’ve made it a point to keep politics to myself for the most part. I think I chose to be private for three reasons:

Reason 1: Political views can end friendships and I don’t like ending friendships. I came out of high school a card-carrying Republican. I listened to Rush Limbaugh every day and took every opportunity to blame Democrats and liberals for everything right down to bad weather. When I began to question the right and soften towards the left, my old friends on the right were furious. They announced the end of our friendship by shipping me a box full of excrement. You can see why being open about politics makes me nervous.

Reason 2: I can’t recall ever changing anyone’s mind. It’s not just that I don’t seem to have the gift of...

Voting American-ly and voting Christian-ly are not one and the same.

The American in me votes for candidates who can govern well. Who can make and pass good laws that are in accord with the Constitution of the United States. The American in me votes for candidates who understand that the United States is a nation of laws that promote and protect “liberty and justice for all.” The American in me votes for candidates who understand the times in which we live and how to pass laws that are in accord with these times. After all, “liberty and justice for all” meant something much different 50, 100, 200 years ago.

The Christian in me votes for people who reflect the outlook of my faith. That is not to say I vote for candidates who makes laws that are distinctly Christian. I do not subscribe to the belief that the United States is–or ever was–a Christian nation. I believe Jesus Christ himself...

Yesterday, I visited one of my “magic places” for the first time since 2004 and discovered the magic was no longer there.

Do you have magic places?

I do. They’re places where the air feels different and the light looks different. Something about the atmosphere seems to alive and breathing and casting spells and painting pictures on your soul. Do you get what I’m saying?

Example (in case you don’t get it): Think of a place that is like a time machine that carries you back to your childhood. All you have to do is enter that space and something sad and sweet washes over your soul like half-happy teardrops. It may be your childhood home, your elementary school, your street where you grew up. It may be the place where you experienced your first kiss or you had several coming-of-age moments.

Magic.

Yesterday, I returned to one of my magic places and it was no longer magic.

I’m not...