Who knew?

The hummingbirds that visit my feeder have figured out how to tell me it’s empty… they only buzz my cameras when the feeder is empty or close to it!

I also discovered today that they chirp, when I came out to collect the feeder for a cleaning and refill they got quite chatty. Before that I had no clue they could.

Btw the ant moat worked like a charm. No more ants.

God bless!

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Snub and snub alike!

I like to think I’m an observant person. When I started working in NYC several years ago, I recognized a specific behavior from the opposite sex. At first I felt a little offended. Then I realized it was a normal thing and began to find humor in it. Not everyone does it, but when they do, it takes a ton of effort not to laugh out loud.

That behavior? The visual snub, the abrupt and many times exaggerated look away. Here’s how it works… Approaching a woman (I’m a dude in case y’all didn’t figure it out yet) when I start to attempt eye contact, some will share a look, some just don’t look, but a special few will wait until the last possible moment (especially if they were already looking at me) and look away.

Now I never returned to NYC after covid (praise the Lord) but even down here in the Atlanta area, that exaggerated look away is alive and well. Not so much outside the urban areas, but in them? Yup. I still find myself laughing nearly every time it happens, but after a particularly exaggerated, head jerking away motion at the office, I’ve decided to play the game and up the ante.

That animation above where Homer looks at his family then closes his eyes, puts his nose in the air and walks away? Every. Single. Time. Now not only do I get to laugh, but I get to play along. I realize this may be entirely in my head but at this point, it puts a smile on my face, so why not? Some like to look at the world and find a thing to complain about. I like to look at the world and find a reason to laugh. One more on the list. God bless!

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Prayer Hacks

Not necessarily a hack, I just thought the title sounded cool.

So several weeks back I was in my hometown visiting. Long story short, despite my best efforts to keep my cool, someone set me off something good. It was one of those cases where weeks later, I was replaying the argument in my head and getting pissed off all over again. Now I’d say it was 50% wounded ego, 50% annoyance at myself for taking my eyes off God.

So what’s the hack? (again, not a hack, just sounds cool).

A week or so ago, in those random moments where the argument would rise up in me yet again and damage my calm I did something entirely BACKWARDS to how the world works. I prayed, but wasn’t a prayer to God to take the thoughts captive, no. It wasn’t a prayer to remove the anger from me and replace it with something good either.

I prayed for the dude that pissed me off. I prayed for the Lord to bless him.

Every single time.

It took maybe a week or so, but now if my mind loops back to that, it’s barely a blip on my cortisol radar. This does a few things the way I see it, first and foremost it sets my eyes back on God. Second, it reinforces the forgiveness I gave for the slight afterwards. Third, it has me praying intercessory for folks I may or may not ever see again, which is never a bad thing.

Now one other hack I’ve discovered (see previous disclaimers) again involves my own human ego which has zero interest in me furthering my relationship with Christ, or growing, or changing… Is when I feel that ego rising up in me, the anger, the angst… I no longer surf that wave of stress like I’m in the sequel to Point Break, I treat it like an alarm bell.

At first, it took quite a bit of effort and prayer to overcome it, but I knew that I was never going to be completely rid of it, so I converted my torment to a tool. 99% of the time when my ego kicks in, it means I need to pay attention. Whatever slight I’m getting angry about, there’s a situation there, a learning experience and a greater opportunity for prayer.

When it rises up in me my first thought is “pay attention” and my next thought is to pray.

Now I’m not only recognizing God moving in these instances, but I’m able to sop up the entirety of the experience like a sponge. I use it to grow, all the while worshipping Him who put it all together for my good and His glory.

God bless!

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Dream Du Jour

So I woke up around 4am, wide awake but too early to get up and head out to work. I rolled over, messed with my phone for a bit, tossed and turned and eventually faded off to sleep.

I had a few dreams but the one I had right before my alarm went off stuck with me. I’m riding my motorcycle through the country, North Georgia of course. In the distance I see what looks like a sunrise but it’s actually a massive white mansion in the sky.

All around it are the colors of dawn, red, blue, purple abound amongst the white fluffy clouds and the reflections of sunlight. Being this is a dream in 2023 I stop my bike and break out my phone to take a photograph of the sight. What I see on the phone screen isn’t a mansion though.

The colors are still there but the clouds have become wings, it’s transformed into a gigantic white bird that is soaring towards me. I look away from the phone and it’s still the mansion in the sky above the mountains. In the phone screen the bird continues to approach.

Right before my alarm went off, the face on the bird began to turn gray and human, and it was starting to shout something at me.

Full disclosure the only thing I drank before bed was Bubly Seltzer. How about that???

So I get to work and one of my coworkers greets me, asks me how I’m doing. Still a little groggy I reply “I’ll let you know when I wake up!” I then share about waking up at 4am and messing with my phone. I didn’t include the dream (I only share that with strangers on the Internet!).

She says “what you should have done is pick up your Bible! God was trying to talk to you!”. That never even crossed my mind, but rest assured (no pun intended) the next time I randomly wake up overnight I’ll grab my Bible and see what the good Lord has for me.

God bless!

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Dream Du Jour

So, this time I’m Superman and I also have telekinetic powers.

I come across a MASSIVE Walmart that is flooding and the roof is partially collapsing. I patch up the roof, save the people, etc…

I’m flying around and generally being Superman.

Anyhow, there’s a family stuck in traffic up on a bridge in the distance. I immediately decide to mess with them as I have access to a 5 story tall Winnie The Pooh bear.

I use my telekinesis to make it climb up the bridge next to the car and have it start saying “BRAINS” in a zombie voice.

The parents and kids scream, I pop out from behind it laughing.

This is why I can’t have superpowers.

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Bikes – 2023 Indian Sport Chief

After test riding a new Indian Chief Dark Horse with the same 116ci engine as the Sport Chief, I had to have one. The problem was that the dealership I normally went with was two-fold. They did not have any in stock, and they low-balled me on the trade-in. If I was a more patient person I likely could have sold my FTR fairly quick, but alas – I am impatient.

A year prior, I picked up my FTR for $17k from the dealer. I brought it back and they offered $10k with 3500 miles and roughly $1000 of accessories installed. Had the Sport Chief been in stock I may have just done it right there, but instead I wanted to do some research to see what my FTR was worth and also what other dealers may have in stock.

I did some looking via the Indian website through the inventory at local dealerships, and saw the bike I would eventually purchase on display at a dealer down in Columbus, GA – roughly 3 hours south of where I live. Now something about me, is when I want anything – if I have the means – it takes about .5 seconds to make the decision to do it.

So I hopped on my FTR for the long ride south, and within an hour or two of arriving, I was back out the door on a brand new Sport Chief. The dealership gave me a much better offer on trade-in (I was still taking a hit, just not as big of a hit), and everyone was very pleasant to work with. They didn’t fight too much when I declined the laundry list of warranties either.

“I’ll get a warranty if I can keep the bike longer than a year.”

The first thing I noticed about the bike on the ride home was how stable it was on the highway. The fact it weighed 200lbs more than my FTR was part of it. The fairing did an excellent job of blocking the wind, although I did notice increased wind-noise in my helmet compared to the FTR with the Puig windscreen though. The second thing I noticed – the heat.

All of my experience with motorcycles have been water-cooled bikes. In slow traffic, the engines still get hot, but the heat is dispersed by a radiator and an electric fan ahead of the rider. On an air cooled bike, that heat gets dumped out the sides and via the exhaust. It was kind of brutal TBH, but I adapted. I also learned quickly that a heat shield isn’t foolproof as evidenced by part of my boot having melted onto it.

So I get home on my new ride, and honestly couldn’t wait to get off the thing. No regret here, but I’ve just ridden 6+ hours in 90 degree heat. I wanted to take a shower, change my clothes, and sit on my couch! As the days progressed and I spent more time on the bike, the more I enjoyed it. The seat is the most comfortable stock seat I’ve ever experienced.

Every single bike I had before had a stock seat that would thrash my hind end and tailbone after about 45 minutes. On this bike I can easily put in a few hours before I need to step off, and even then – there’s no back or tailbone pain anywhere. I think the only comfort issue I’ve realized is in my left shoulder after about an hour and a half.

There are a few differences between this bike and any other I’ve ridden. For starters, no key. There’s a wireless keyfob like my car, bike won’t start without it or a specific code entered in to the display. Second, no fork lock. Every other bike I’ve ridden had a way to lock the fork and make it more difficult to steal. Lastly, no helmet lock. I did buy a Lidlox though.

The way Lidlox works, is it mounts to the handlebar, obscures the mounting bolt and allows me to lock my helmet to the bike. The only way to remove the helmet is to defeat the lock or cut the strap. The former is possible but pretty obvious if someone is trying to do – and the latter makes stealing the helmet pointless. A good investment regardless.

The silliest thing though, the bike came with a gas cap that was not locking. Every other bike I owned had a locking gas cap. For this bike, it was a $99 option. Seems like a lot for a gas cap because it is, but hey, y’all can go buy your own gas. Leave mine alone. I did land a deal on some used saddle bags while I was picking up that cap though…

I bring the bike back for its 500 mile service and then proceed to have some fun with it. The bike has 3 ride modes, Touring / Standard / Sport. Touring is probably best for long highway cruises as it also appears to shut down one of the cylinders. Standard is a very manageable mode where the power is there but it’s not really going to push my limits.

Sport mode. Hoo boy. Sport mode turns the throttle into a hair trigger and rapidly unleashes every single horsepower and foot/lb with the slightest of twists. I’ve been in sport mode, hit a bump, tapped the throttle, and it was like one of those electric broncos in a honky-tonk. It’d slam me into the seat back, and I’m holding on to the handlebars for dear life.

It’s a 685lb bike that is acting like my old 500lb FTR. Most of my riding then is done in standard mode until I get on a highway. I’m still getting used to the added power, but there’s one other thing about this bike which I quickly noticed. Left curves. I don’t even think when I enter them now. I just lean the bike and keep riding.

There was maybe one instance thus far where I saw some gravel in the road, went a little wide on a left hander to avoid it, and that gave me a bit of anxiety as I got closer to the shoulder than I was comfortable with, but otherwise I’m back to enjoying my hobby… just reacting to and planning for the next turn. It is two wheeled gasoline therapy and the doctor is in.

Just last week I took my bike up into the mountains north of Dahlonega, specifically taking the route where I had wrecked my FTR. I took my time. I prayed. I had some good conversations with the Lord, and healed more with every curve I took. I got in, got out, and rode on.

I finally got around to running Tail of The Dragon last week, in my car, not sure I’m ready yet to do it on the Chief but who knows. I’m in no rush. God bless!

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Bikes – 2022 Indian FTR

I realized the day after completing my first run of Tail of The Dragon that I hadn’t done any updates to my “Cars” section in some time. Regular followers of this blog are fully aware of the fate of my first 2022 Indian FTR (Close Call PT1, PT2, PT3). But I never actually did a full post in this category to cover the bike. Note, this post will cover BOTH of my FTR’s.

Now when I moved to Georgia, I took my 2012 Kawasaki Vulcan with me. Despite getting damaged during the move (one of the mirrors broke) it was still a great bike but I wanted something new and different, which is where the idea of something along the lines of a naked sport bike came to mind. I also wanted an American V-Twin.

While I initially considered the new Harley Davidson Sportster S, after reading about the limited rear suspension travel I started looking at Indian. That’s when the FTR caught my eye.

Now the FTR was completely outside my comfort zone. I’d never ridden anything remotely resembling a sport bike before. It looked cool, matched my 2019 Civic Type-R visually, had plenty of power from its 1200CC liquid-cooled V-Twin and for the first month of ownership was an absolute riot to ride.

It was the most nimble bike I’d ever ridden with acceleration that quickly induced an involuntary smile. Before I left the dealership lot I did a couple laps around as the seating position was foreign to me. It was leaning forward, not back. I felt like I was positioned over the front wheel instead of behind it. It was both comfortable, and not.

I don’t think I actually made it 500 miles on the bike before I totaled it (see the linked posts above). Two weeks later, determined not to let the fear and trauma from the accident take away a hobby that I’ve enjoyed for over a decade, I went back to Mall of Georgia Indian and bought another brand new FTR with the cash from my insurance policy.

Back in 1977, Snowman and Bandit grabbed 400 cases of Coors here... today it's a cafe.

My second FTR in as many months was a 2022 FTR Carbon R. It was the top of the line FTR, with all the bells, whistles, and electronic nannies to try and keep me safer. Before I sold this bike I’d put on over 3500 miles. I refused to take it into the mountains which was where I totaled my last one, and I didn’t want a repeat for one specific reason…

I still froze up on left hand turns similar to the one I wrecked on. Right hand curves, I was fine, I’d lean without thinking and proceed. Left hand curves? I’d jam up and slow down. That put a distracting fear in me nearly every time I rode. In most cases I could just slow down and proceed, but the ever present chance of a panic attack sapped the joy from riding.

Before I sold it, I did perform some modifications to try and make it more comfortable / useful. I added a luggage rack and rear bag, a Puig windscreen to make highway travel more comfortable, and also a Corbin seat to help keep my hind-end comfy on longer rides. What I was trying to do is turn a sport bike into a cruiser… It would never be one.

Still, it is the first (and hopefully the last) motorcycle I’d ever popped a wheelie on. The Carbon-R had multiple ride-modes, Sport mode opened the taps fully and disabled the built-in wheelie protection. At a stoplight outside Dahlonega, I decided to try sport mode. When the light turned green I proceeded to cross GA 400 on my rear wheel.

I promptly pulled over, put the bike back in Standard, and never tried that again. Even with Standard mode and wheelie protection active though, it was possible to get the front wheel off the ground. One time pulling out of Flowery Branch in a right hand turn, the bike was turning slower than expected and only after the front wheel came down did I realize why.

It was a very well built and fun bike, but I was never going to ride it as designed.

Back around Easter 2023, my car was briefly out of commission so I planned to use the FTR for all my tasks that required transportation. That would have worked fine up until I got a staple in the rear tire which flattened it. Patching a flat on a bike isn’t a thing, it needed a new tire, so I made use of Tire Slime (worked pretty well) to get me to the dealer for a swap.

I filled the tire with the bottle of green goop, inflated it, then did a few low speed laps of my neighborhood. A slow leak remained but it held well enough for me to get where I needed to go, as well as use the bike for grocery runs while my car was in the shop. It’d lose a few psi overnight, but that was quickly remedied with my portable inflator (battery powered).

So I get to the dealer, and instead of waiting for an hour or two, I decided to rent an Indian Chief Dark Horse. It had the 116ci motor, air cooled… A low slung cruiser that I immediately fell in love with. Most importantly, I did not pause on left hand curves. Within a few days, I’d be on to my next bike, an Indian Sport Chief in Ruby Smoke.

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I Hate Wasps.

Hate is a strong word that I generally do not care to use. While I fully understand that every creature on God’s green Earth has a purpose, I will never understand wasps. Here in GA I’ve come to accept these orange ones that are mellow and don’t bother me, but sadly they’re not the only ones here.

About 10 years back I was riding my motorcycle through the back roads of upstate New York when a wasp flew into my helmet. My brief moment of hope that it left without incident was interrupted by a sequence of stings on the right side of my neck.

In a panic, I rapidly pulled off the road and attempted to stop on a thick layer of silt and sand. Miraculously I did not wreck my bike. I then unbuttoned my helmet and ripped it off my head, tossing it clear of me. The wasp was long gone, my glasses were now broken, and I managed to escape with a half dozen stings.

So today I’m heading to church on the bike, and this time around I had zero warning. The sharp pain hit me again on the right side of my neck and I felt the thing moving. Now in this case I knew that despite the searing pain I was ok. I maintained control, pulled off into a church parking lot, and got the helmet off.

I never actually saw the thing but I knew what got me immediately. Hours later there’s still some pain but I’m ok. The lesson learned many years ago kept me from nearly wrecking my new bike or breaking my glasses. No need to panic this time, I got off the road safely and eliminated the threat.

All that said though, I still hate wasps. When I finally get to meet Jesus we’re going to have a chat about those things.

End rambling. God bless.

Posted in Driving, Motorcycle, Ramblings... | Leave a comment


This past Wednesday, I attended the funeral for my best friend’s mom. She was a wonderful woman I’d known near 30 years who finally went home to Jesus. I got there early and stuck around for a couple hours, talking with good friends, some of whom I have not seen in many months if not years. After about 2 hours, I stepped away to go grab a beer at the Legion.

So I get there and proceed to catch up with some other folks I haven’t seen in quite some time. One of which is a devout Catholic who has undergone some significant health issues recently that affected him so greatly he couldn’t shake my right hand when we greeted each other. He explained what happened, and I prayed to God for his healing.

Before I left, he shook my right hand and his concerns as to why he couldn’t previously seemed unwarranted. It was the same firm grip I always remembered. I continue to pray to God for his recovery and hope to hear more good news.

After a couple beers I decide to head out. My plan is to head home, change out of my suit, grab the card my Mom picked up, and then head to my friend’s house. There was no plan on my part to go back to the funeral home. Then I got a text – the priest or “religious person” as they put it hadn’t arrived yet. I didn’t want to miss the actual service so I drove back.

I pull in and park, and as I do, the priest arrives. I walk in to the funeral home, into the room where everyone is quietly waiting and they all sort of stare at me as I walk in. I stammered “Oh, the priest is coming, he just pulled in!” then proceeded to go hide in the back with my friends. A few moments later, my best friend taps me on the shoulder and pulls me aside.

We’re now in the hallway outside the room, and there is his father and the priest. They’re asking me if I would be comfortable reading the scriptures during the service. I’m gobsmacked for about a blink’s length and agree to help. We agree that the priest would call me up when we reach that portion of the funeral service.

So he does, and without any hesitation I rise up and walk to the podium. What I read next was a section of the scriptures from 2 Corinthians 5:1-10, which discussed the assurance of the resurrection, as well as the judgment seat of Christ.

For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life. Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

So we are always confident, knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord. For we walk by faith, not by sight. We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.

Therefore we make it our aim, whether present or absent, to be well pleasing to Him. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive the things done in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.

2 Corinthians 5:1-10

I walked back to my seat and the folks around me were like “good job!” I kind of sat there with my head in my hands for a moment. I’ve read scripture before, but never in front of a large crowd let alone a room full of grieving friends. I didn’t stammer or stutter once like I usually do. The words flowed, while I was fully at peace and fully aware of Jesus’s presence.

Once more I went up, now it’s been decades since I attended any Catholic service, but I read again (not scripture this time) and felt the same peace and presence. When it was done, my mind, my very soul was buzzing. Outside a few folks complimented me again on my reading which I thought was a little odd, but in those moments for lack of a better description…

I felt called, I was overwhelmed.

So I got in my car where I wept and prayed as I drove back to my mom’s house. I thanked God for that opportunity and loudly proclaimed Him. I finally get home and let my mom know what happened, she was equally as gobsmacked as I was.

Now I don’t know what is next for me, but I know that sharing the Word is going to be a massive part of it. My nerves kicked in hours later as my own fragile human ego began to second guess what I experienced, but I know in my heart it was real and true.

The threads were there, perfectly lined up. Last week I wasn’t sure whether I would drive up, yet I did. I wasn’t sure how long to stay at the service, what to do or say other than offer condolences and some random humor like I always do. I left and got to catch up with an old friend who was recovering from an awful illness only to return just in time to share the Word.

Some may call all of that coincidence, or purely random, but I call it God clearing His throat and getting the attention of a lonely sinner who until that very moment had no clue whatsoever what the next chapter of his life would look like. God yanked me out of my comfort zone and it was awesome!

God bless.

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Sorry About Your Truck!

As a side note – my best friend’s mother passed last week. The title of this post just seems to fit what follows, but it’s also something she shouted at a guy with a large and loud pickup once. The usual comment is “sorry about your (male sex organ)” but she, being a total sweetheart blurted out “SORRY ABOUT YOUR TRUCK!” I think her version was better.

Over time I’ve discovered that when I make an affirmation about myself, positive or negative, I get tested. Just the other day I decided maybe I shouldn’t be such a ball buster. I affirmed that I wasn’t going to say anything negative to anyone, I was going to be positive. This all sprung from someone trying to pull a fast one on me after I busted their chops.

I’m sitting at the bar, catching up with the vets (I tend to get along better with people a few generations older than myself) and was busting one guys chops a bit. A little later as I’m getting ready to leave he says “hey, did you know your car has an oil leak?” I curse. I just drove 900 miles, and this was the last thing I needed to hear.

I back my car out and all I see is the water dripping from my A/C. He then points at a fresh newer splash of oil on the ground and implies it is from my car. I check the oil, it is fine. I go run some errands, then head home and slide a sheet of cardboard under the car after noticing an old oil stain in the road where I was parked…

A few hours later, I check the cardboard… Nothing. In the mean time I made an appointment with the local Honda dealer to have them take a look. I go out again later in the evening, making sure not to park in the same spot, and that’s where we pick up the story below.

I head off to the Legion after dinner to catch up on the days events and chew the fat. As the evening progressed, a kid came in and the first words out of his mouth was a snide comment about the “rice burner” in the parking lot. Didn’t take long. A handful of additional comments came out about how he only buys American, cars built in America, etc…

Editors Note: For the uninitiated, I drive a Honda Civic Type-R. It is the quickest, most ridiculous and most comfortable car I have ever driven… back to the story.

I had a little back and forth with the bloke where I clarified that my Honda was built in the UK, not Japan… Then as the barbs came in about its performance (I’m certain all he saw was a Civic with a bunch of mods) I clarified what it was, its hp, weight, and top speed… As he scoffed I simply said “go ahead and Google it.” Not sure why I even engaged.

Then came a ton of commentary about just how much he spent on his new pickup out in the lot (which I complimented btw, I love a good GMC), but comment after comment came like rain. Disparaging my car, making generalizations about the south, about my job, like one after the other coming at me and I just took it, responded positively, and moved on.

As the bartender walked away for a few minutes he looks me in the eye and says “I’ll get her some day.” There you go. This had nothing to do with me, my car, where I live, etc… This was all about impressing the pretty bartender. I get it. Better ways to approach that than picking on a total stranger who lives 900 miles away, but I digress.

See, people exist who have to drag others down in order to elevate themselves. I used to be one of them, I used to consider myself pretty good at it to be honest… Never realizing the damage I was doing to friend and stranger alike. Having Jesus in my life gave me a new perspective. Still, it takes a lot more than insulting my car to get me going.

It is no coincidence that twice in the same day folks have used my Honda as a basis to bust my chops.

So the barbs continued to fly regardless of my attempts to remain positive. I probably would have been better off just ceasing and allowing the guy to dig his own hole without my assistance. After cutting myself off from drink and the only folks left in the bar was the kid, myself, and the bartender, I decided to take my leave.

As I’m heading to the door I tell them both to ‘take care’ by name. I’m less than halfway out the door when I hear the kid from the ATM mutter “asshole!”

I stop and look back. Bartender is looking at me through the door with concern… I step back in…

“Wanna race?”
“How about I tie my truck to your car and we see who pulls who.”
“It’s a chevy, your transmission will burn out.”
“It’s ok, I’ve got a warranty.”
“Me too, 120k miles, what’s your point?”

I walked out laughing. Pretty sure I heard the bartender exclaim “Oh, my God!” at how silly it was. Can’t blame her one bit.

I could have left without the commentary as it was the first and only crack in my armor towards the end of the night, which also reminded me why I do not miss living next to a bar. The vast majority of my interactions there have been positive, I’ve even had the opportunity to witness there several times, but I got another look at who I used to be.

I drank a lot, talked a lot of crap, I used to be that guy who had to one-up everyone around him… I didn’t like who I was and I’m glad I am mostly free of that. I just need to have faith that as these interactions cross my path that I follow the instruction manual, aka the Holy Bible and not even bother engaging with a scoffer…

“He who corrects a scoffer gets shame for himself,
And he who rebukes a wicked man only harms himself.
Do not correct a scoffer, lest he hate you;
Rebuke a wise man, and he will love you.

Proverbs 9:7-8

What can I say, I’m still a work in progress. 🙂 God bless!

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