That’s me bench pressing 300 pounds for the first time.  The advertised 12-week program (“How to bench press 300 pounds”) took me about 24 to complete. At present, I can complete two reps at that weight. Not bad for a 46 year-old husband and dad, right?

When I went back to do it again, there was a tattooed gentleman working out on the Smith Machine next to the one my son and I were using. We did our warm-up sets; my son went first. Then we racked the weights for my lift. The next to us took notice, indicating, “that’s a lot of weight. You know these aren’t the standard 45-pound bars. What do you have, old man strength? Are you sure you don’t need a spot?”

Thing is, I don’t think he meant to be insulting. He was just expressing his incredulity. I told him I was good for two reps. On that second rep my new friend went from incredulous to urging me on:

“C’mon! You can do it!”

I did. And I give the glory to God. If not for Him, I wouldn’t be here. As much as this accomplishment means to me, I’ll not boast in my strength. Because like life itself, strength is fleeting. Although my son termed me a “bada**” for lifting 300 pounds, it doesn’t make it so. So I will glory rather in my infirmities; for when I am weak, then I am strong in Him and the power of His might.

Now, all of that said, get off my lawn, whippersnapper! Before I show you some old man strength!


Just Come

randomlychad  —  October 6, 2015 — Leave a comment

My wife and I participate in a small group study. Lately, we’ve been looking at how to share the Gospel. As a part of that process, I’ve been tasked with answering a couple of common objections:

The exclusivity of the message of Jesus, and the plethora of world religions. I may have bitten off more than I can chew here, but intend to give it the old college try.

The world as we see and experience certainly establishes a prima facie case against the existence of God. There is much suffering, atrocities, and evil. Why would a good God allow such things to transpire? On the other hand, there is much about this world which is beautiful, lovely, and sublime in way which surpasses our poor power to express it. There is an order to the universe, and a precision in the way in which it operates that certainly at the least implies design. Atheists will say that’s all it is, implied design. But according to Occam’s Razor, the simplest solution is often the correct one, e.g., the universe appears designed because it is designed. In other words, and in the words of C.S. Lewis, “if the universe were without meaning we should never have discovered that it was without meaning.”

Is it possible that both are true? That all we see around is designed, yet all is not as it should be? Pain, suffering, disease, and death certainly provide a strong argument for this. If this is so, is God to blame? Is He a cosmic sadist delighting in our struggles? Why would He go to such great lengths to create all of this only to seemingly remain hidden from His creation? Why does He allow us to flounder in the mire? Surely a loving Father would [fill in the blank]?

And there’s the rub: we’ve just gone over the line into idolatry, making a god in our image, instead of falling at the feet of the One Who is. Because the One Who is, while promising an ultimate end to evil, in the meantime chooses the much harder path of walking with His suffering creation in love. Rather than delivering us from every trial, He suffers along with us. Instead of answering our questions, our every objection, He gives Himself. This is not an answer that many are willing to hear.

So yes, the world is broken. We are broken, and our brokenness try to fill that void with whatever we think will sooth our savage breast: science, atheism, sex, drugs, alcohol, relationships, education, what have you. We move from one thing to the next, never really assuaging the emptiness. And into this mess comes the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It seems an offer too good to be true; for how can it be free? This answer to our broken selves, this broken world? Because our experience is here, in the material plane, we know that there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch, that we get what we pay for… Thus it is that the word squeezes us into its mold. Because there’s always strings, right? And we don’t want to be anyone’s puppet. That is ultimately what it boils down to, really; every objection to the existence of God, while purporting to be philosophical, scientific, logical, is really about this: we don’t want to give up control. All else–the prima facie case the world presents–is but a smokescreen to an underlying condition of the heart the Bible terms “sin.”

Because God made us free, we are free to either accept, or reject, this fact. In essence, in shaking our fists at the sky we are saying, “Don’t confuse me with the facts, God, my mind is already made up.” And then we will come up with our reasons, our justifications, of why this is so. Why we are right, and Christians are wrong. Why we’re okay. This is nothing but confirmation bias. We’re right because we’re right. I’m okay, you’re okay. Now go away.

Meanwhile Jesus is saying, “Come to me all you who are weary, and I will give you rest.”

And that is what the Gospel is all about: rest from our striving, our brokenness, our sin.

Come to Me, He says.

Come and lay your objections down, and take up the life you were made for. For His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

Just come.

Stick With the Program

randomlychad  —  September 27, 2015 — 4 Comments

I’ve made no secret of the fact that, for a little over the past year, I’ve been working out. It’s truly the first time in my life wherein I’ve committed myself to something and have stuck with it. At first, I floundered around, unsure of what I should be doing. But then I began observing others, watching what they did for their routines. And like Donald Miller says at the beginning of Blue Like Jazz, “sometimes you have to watch someone else love something before you can love it yourself.” I’ve found this to be true; at first, I didn’t like the gym, didn’t like exercising. Probably because:

1) It was work; and,
2) I was unsure of myself.

Then as I said, I began watching others, and doing some online research. And somewhere along the way I began to love it–the working out. The stresses and pressures of life, the minor aches and pains, would fade away during that focused time of exercise. I would leave the gym feeling like I had accomplished something. Never was this more true than when I had finished a routine as I worked around some kind of pain. Make no mistake: pains there will be. In fact, there are primarily four kinds of pain faced in the gym:

1) Pain which can be worked through. This is the kind that comes when pushing through a particularly challenging routine, and you want to hit that last rep.

2) Pain which must be worked around. This when we get hurt and have to modify our activities, doing something until we are well enough to resume our former routines.

3) Pain which just plain lays us out. This is when we’ve simply been hurt too badly to continue any level of activity, and must recuperate.

4) The pain of unmet milestones. This is when we set goals and do not achieve them.

During my time in the gym, I’ve experienced all four of these kinds of pain. I’ve experienced the pain of pushing through a grueling set, the pain of having work around an injury, the pain of not being able to workout because I was in too much pain, and the pain of pressing on despite not having reached a goal. Because make no mistake, whatever course of action we set ourselves to there will be setbacks. I’m not sure what obstacles you face, but rest assured whether they are relational, creative, professional, or even exercise-related, there will be setbacks. You will face some kind of opposition, some kind of pain. For me, the first setback in my fitness goals came in the form of something I’d never heard of before:

Exertional headaches.

In my case, I performed a Valsalva Manoeveur during arm curls. Basically, I held my breath during exersion, which caused a precipitous rise in blood pressure. Essentially, the vessels in the back of my head expanded too rapidly into the surrounding meninges, causing extreme head pain. In other words, I felt like I was having a stroke.

The recommended remedy was rest, but I found I could work through the pain, providing I:

1) Took NSAIDS; and,
2) Backed off on the weight.

So I took it easy for a couple of weeks, and then was back to full strength. You might find you’re facing a challenge, and in order to get through it you’ll have to scale back on one thing to focus on another. This is okay. Setbacks happen. It doesn’t mean progress isn’t being made. Oftentimes, it means just that; that progress is being made, and you’ve uncovered a previously hidden weakness, or that perhaps you are not fully adapted to the place you find yourself in. Give it time. You will find your equilibrium.

I could continue in describing: lower back injuries, and the financial pain of having to visit a medical practitioner to some relief. Upper back injuries, which slowed my progress in achieving a fitness goal.

You can see the title of the piece there, How To Bench Press 300 Pounds In 12 Weeks, right? It hasn’t taken me twelve; rather, it’s been easily twenty-four (if not more). Setbacks, upsets, incidents, accidents, injuries knocked me off track. These kinds of things will happen to you, too. Count on it. But also decide now that, no matter what–no matter what happens, what people say, what the resistance is telling you–you’ll stick with the program. Whether it’s lifting weights, training for a marathon, writing a book, painting a landscape, sculpting, whatever.

Whatever it is: stick with the program. If one story, or book, isn’t working out, does one quit writing? No. One moves on to something else. Do we quit XYZ just because it’s gotten hard? No. We harden our resolve. Because, just like my goal of benching 300 pounds, whatever it is you’re working on, it will take longer, and be harder, than you anticipated.


Stick with the program.

You read it here on Please take the time to share. Thanks!


I self-published my second independent work, Casita 106 at the Red Pines, back in May of this year. I think maybe because it was such a hard, long, slow road for me, I priced it at $2.99. Even though one can read it in an hour (or less), the tale took me six months of work. And then in fear, I sat on it not knowing what, or if, I would do with it. Honestly, the 70% royalty that Amazon offered via its Kindle Desktop Publishing (KDP) certainly appealed. In any case, I’ve changed my mind, and not because I don’t believe the story is worth it (I do), and brought the price down to make it more commensurate with other stories of similar length. Yes, I’ve effectively cut the royalty in half, but I hope to make up for it in sales. Even if you bought a copy before, would you consider gifting a copy to someone you know who might like a story that goes bump in the night?

You can get it by clicking here. Please take a moment to share this in your social media channels.

Thanks so much!

Part of the Problem

randomlychad  —  September 15, 2015 — 1 Comment

(Zoom in to see the evangelist on the left, and the homeless man on his knees on the right).

You’ve heard the old saw: “If you’re not part of the solution, then you’re part of the problem.” This I think is true. I have a problem. Like a substantial majority of folks, I’m fairly glued to my phone, have binge watched Netflix until all hours, and generally fritter away precious time on Twitter and/or Facebook. I find myself to be highly distractable and unfocused. Beyond that, it’s far easier to glide through life as a spectator, rather than as a participant. Case in point: while my wife was out of town, my son and I took three movies. Nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but it didn’t even dawn on me that perhaps we should at least attempt to visit her aged grandmother at her nursing home until late in the week (we didn’t make it). Oh, we made time to workout, eat out, video game.

But the week by-and-large was fairly self-absorbed. I even made time to hit the bookstore, buying more books than I’ll read in a month.

But compassion, other-awareness? Rather lacking. My life is so busy with work, working out, obligations, that in my downtimes I don’t think about much beyond me. It’s become an ingrained way of life.

A rut I don’t know how to break out of.

Nowhere was this more true than when I observed a street preacher doing his thing, proclaiming the judgment of God upon a sinful society, right across the street from a homeless man begging his daily bread. What I, and everyone else crossing the street, didn’t see was the street preacher put down his sign (“Back the Bible, or back to the jungle”), and go over to help the homeless man. I noticed that not one person, nary a single soul, took a tract from him. Yet what did I do other than observe? I took the time to take a picture, return to my office, get lunch…

When it dawned on me that I hadn’t done anything for, or been Jesus to, the homeless man, upon finally returning I saw he was being loaded into an ambulance. This was a lesson to me. We can have all the right words, speak the Gospel truth, but if that truth isn’t backed up with corresponding actions it makes our witness of bull effect.

There are similar needs around me everyday, and yet it gets harder and harder to lift up my eyes to see, and to open my heart to care.

I wonder: do you find yourself in the same place today?

Make no mistake: the world is watching. Are we part of the problem, or part of the solution?