It was like driving through a sea of black ink.

The trip back to our hotel from the Lamar Valley was harrowing. It being Yellowstone, the specter of animals hanging out on the road is always a possibility. We’d reveled in the wildlife of the North American Serengeti, but now the sun was gone and darkness blanketed the winding way home. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel and Kim’s clear anxiety was less than helpful.

We snaked around curve after curve, my eyes peeled for any signs of movement. Then we saw it: a small coyote trotting down the middle of the road. As we came upon him, I slowed to a stop. He turned his head and stood frozen in the bright beam of our headlights. Time stood still. He looked at us and we looked at him, and for a brief moment, we connected.

Kim snuck a quick photo before he turned away and disappeared into the darkness.

It felt like we encountered a ghost in the road.

Sometimes we encounter people in a similar way. Their life intersects with ours and we make a brief connection. They show up to guide us through difficulty, supporting us emotionally, physically, or spiritually. When the time to move on comes, they disappear from our lives, like a ghost in the road

Have you had encounters like that, a limited interaction with someone that greatly impacted your life?

Years ago, I had lunch with Phil Vischer, the co-creator of Veggie Tales. I was trying to get my Kim & Jason comic strip off the ground. He gave me a lot of great advice, but one of the most notable things he said was, “Assume that your life two years from now will be nothing like you imagine it will be. Be open to where God is leading. If God calls you or Kim to a different role or a different job, be open.”

His advice left me unsettled, but it stuck with me.

Around that same time, Kim and I encountered a woman named Mary Jo who worked for a local Catholic Church. She told us about a growing movement within the Church to educate children and adults together and assured us that if I could create a program that held the attention and spoke to both groups, I’d definitely be in demand as a speaker. She was right, and that’s how my now twenty-year career as a professional speaker began.

It required me to retire the comic strip, but Phil Vischer’s prophetic words helped give me an open heart and comfort when I saw God lead us in a new direction.

It’s been said that people are in our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Phil and Mary Jo are people who came into my life for a reason. They were fellow travelers who crossed my path, and for a brief moment in time, our souls connected. In their own way, they illuminated my path, let me know that I was seen, that what I was doing mattered, and to keep going.

We are called to do that for others.

I’ll never forget a time I was a ghost in someone else’s road.

Waiting for everyone else to leave, she appeared at my product table at the back of the room after my second and final presentation of the day. She seemed hesitant, engaged in an internal debate on whether to approach or retreat. I noticed from her badge that her name was Jennifer. I assumed she was trying to decide if she wanted to buy something. Instead, she hesitantly exclaimed, “I want to trade you something, but I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

“I won’t think you’re crazy,” I promised, not knowing what I was in for.

Apparently I was convincing enough, as she began digging around in her purse. She pulled out a small black velvet box and placed it on the table between us. She said not a word. Perplexed, I determined that it looked like a ring box and deduced that her silence meant that I was supposed to pick it up. I opened it. I was right there were two simple rings inside, one band was rimmed across the top with a row of tiny diamonds; the other was shiny and plain.

They were wedding rings.

“Ok…” I stumbled. “It looks like there is a story here…”

She began, “Six months ago today, my husband left me while I was at work.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She offered no further details, but it was clear that it was as surprising as it was devastating. She continued, “After he left, on a whim, I decided to apply for my dream job, the one I never went for while we were together. And I got it. And it was amazing.”

She began sobbing, and it suddenly felt that the table between us was two miles wide. She apologized for breaking down, while I debated jumping across the table to hug her right then and there.

She regained her composure and said, “Sitting in your two sessions today…you just said so many things that hit me. For a long time, I had given up on love. I had given up on me. I told myself that this job — my career — was my new love now and that this would be the focus of my life. But you helped me to see that I can’t give up on love.”

She motioned to the rings, and, looking at the last Adultitis First Aid Kit I had left, said, “If you’d be willing, I’d like to trade these for a new beginning. I don’t need them anymore.”

I gave her a Kit and a big hug and mumbled something that I don’t remember but was probably stupid.

I don’t remember what I said that struck a chord. I don’t know whatever came of her, although it’s possible she’s still following our stuff all these years later.

I was a ghost in the road of her story and she was a ghost in the road of mine.

Something I said to her on that day helped her to see with new eyes and gave her the confidence to bravely move forward. Meanwhile, Jennifer’s courage and her gift serve as an everlasting reminder of the privilege of what I get to do. When I get discouraged that the crowd I’m speaking to is too small, or not engaged enough, or that I am too tired, I think of Jennifer, a ghost in the road who crossed my path so many years ago, and I am reminded that every single day is an opportunity to change someone’s world.

Never underestimate your role in helping to heal our world. As it has been said many times, “Helping one person might not change the world, but it could change the world for one person.”

I hope this reflection opens your eyes and gives you an appreciation for the ghosts in your own road.

And I hope it will inspire you to be a fellow traveler who crosses someone else’s, taking the time to look them in the eye and say, “I see you. You matter. You’re doing great. Keep going.”

🤔 I wonder…do you have a story to share about someone who was a ghost in your road?

This painting is called “Love is in the Air.”

Our eyes draw us to the billowing steam from the geyser forming the shape of a heart.

Indeed, it is a fitting representation of the way most of our society views love. Like the steam, it is a little mysterious, always changing, and dependent on which way the wind is blowing. Love is regarded as a fleeting feeling evident on a wedding day but which vanishes at some point in the ensuing years when life gets hard.

I would like to invite us to look for a different, better metaphor for true love in this painting.

Like the bison.

The bison is rock solid. Grounded. Immovable in winds of change.

My friend, contrary to popular belief, true love is not a feeling that ebbs and flows with the wind. It’s not caught up with transitory qualities like looks, circumstances, and emotions. Looks fade, circumstances change, and emotions are unreliable, often clouding reality.

I’m no relationship expert, but I have been married for well over two decades now. If you want a relationship that outlasts the average, you cannot depend on feelings to save you. On any given day, your partner may not look or act anything like the person you first fell in love with. You may find yourselves in a circumstance you didn’t anticipate or plan for when everything was going well.

True love isn’t a feeling; it’s a choice. 

This points to another important difference between these two metaphors: The steam cloud has no control of itself. The bison, on the other hand, can take action.

Here’s a real-world example of the difference:

A few years ago, I instituted a new personal policy: Always stop at the lemonade stand.

You see, I am a bit of an over-thinker. My old pattern of behavior went like this: I’d see some kids running a lemonade stand and think about stopping, only to drive past it while overthinking it to death. Did I have cash on me? Did I have the time? Was there even a convenient place to park? I’ve already driven six blocks past it, it would be stupid to turn around now. Ultimately, I’d miss the moment and feel bad for the rest of the day.

So I decided to take the thinking (and overthinking) out of it. I decided to establish a new rule: ALWAYS STOP AT THE LEMONADE STAND. Of course, for this personal policy to work, it has to be ironclad. The only way to avoid overthinking was that there could be no exceptions. No excuses. I permitted myself to be late wherever I was going. Even if I was late to my own father’s funeral, “I had to stop at the lemonade stand.”

The key is that when it comes to any sort of goal, habit, or resolution you establish, it’s a lot easier if you don’t give yourself any outs. Commit 100%. If you allow yourself even one exception, then it’s always a fight from then on. You’ll always give yourself a reason why it’s ok to ignore the rule “this one time.” 

Even though it’s sometimes inconvenient, I love this policy. I like that it allows me to be more generous, which is in line with the type of person I want to be. I always ask the kids what they’re raising money for. I always try to encourage them in some small way. And I always over-tip.

The thought of stopping at a lemonade stand is like the steam, it comes and goes, and stopping is dependent on how I’m feeling at the time. But this personal policy is a stubborn bison, blocking the rest of my day until I act.

Thinking about complimenting someone, writing a note of encouragement, or helping someone in a bind is not the same as actually doing any of those things.

If you are in a relationship where the love feels like it’s fading, are you like the steam cloud, waiting for something to happen? Are you waiting for a feeling to return or for your partner to change, to do something that rekindles that loving feeling you once had?

The better strategy is to be more like the bison and make the first move.

As psychologists have found time and again, behavior shapes emotion. If I am angry or upset when I see a lemonade stand, I always feel 100 percent better after I stop, even if I’m only walking away with a watered-down lukewarm cup of lemonade.

So even if you don’t feel like it, try doing something loving for the other person. Surprise them with an unexpected gift. Do one of their household chores for them. Praise them in front of someone else.

It’s amazing how often our loving actions can transform into loving feelings.

Before you throw in the towel on a relationship that has lost its loving feeling, act lovingly toward your partner. Decide that you’re not going anywhere, like a bison standing in the middle of the road at Yellowstone. Don’t give up.

Change may not be immediate, but if you are persistent and continue acting in love, don’t be surprised if before long, a new feeling of love is in the air.

🤔 I wonder…do you have a personal policy that helps you do things when you don’t feel like it? Or is it time to create one?

Your team is in bad shape. Here you are in the playoffs, and you’re losing. Even though you’re somehow only down by six points, nothing is going right. You were flying high earlier in the game, leading by two scores. Everything was clicking.

And then…

A turnover and two huge penalties gave your opponent some easy scores. None of the plays you’re calling are working. Your best running back got injured and is out for the game. Your players are growing more discouraged as each second melts off the clock. Now the other team has the ball and they’re driving down the field. If they score a touchdown—and your team is showing no sign of preventing it—this game is over.

Stay with me on this metaphor; we’re going somewhere. You might not be a football coach—or even care about football—but perhaps this sounds eerily similar to life right now.

Everything was going well. Finances were in good shape. Things at work were looking up. You and your spouse were on the same page. The kids were getting along.

And then…

Your spouse got sick and has been out of commission for over a week now. All of a sudden, your kids’ teachers decided to team up and go for the world record for most homework assignments. The dishes in the sink are a food-encrusted skyscraper. Your children are expertly pushing one another’s buttons and tempers are flaring.

Adultitis is winning hard.

But let’s go back to our imaginary football game…

Your opponent is only twenty yards from the end zone. A field goal could ice the game, a touchdown will undoubtedly send your team home for the offseason.

And then…

Their quarterback drops back to pass. He’s got a receiver wide open at the goal line and lets the ball go. Out of nowhere, your safety cuts in front and intercepts the pass! He’s got ninety-five yards of open grass ahead of him…as he streaks down the sideline, the crowd erupts into delirium. You’re jumping up and down and your arm is like a windmill, waving him toward the end zone. He crosses the goal line, scores a touchdown, and ties the game! The stadium is shaking as your players sprint on the field to celebrate.

You still need to kick the extra point to take the lead, but one thing is certain.
Momentum has shifted.

There’s not much more exciting for a team on the brink than a game-altering “pick six” like I just described. For the sportsball ambivalent, a “pick” is slang for “interception” and the “six” denotes how many points a team scores on a touchdown.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to summon one of those up in real life, when Adultitis has a stranglehold on you and your family?

Well, you can.

That’s exactly how we use “Pajama Runs” in our household. When Adultitis is having its way with us and everything seems to be going wrong, Kim and I pull out pots and wooden spoons and start banging on them. Our kids know the sound. The mood in the house immediately changes as everyone hurries to the car—even if they are in their pajamas—and we head out for ice cream.

We typically only do this a few times a year, but it always does the trick. Momentum shifts. Perspective is gained. Fun is had.

It’s like a pick six, and Adultitis loses big time. The only difference is that in football, you can’t call a play that will guarantee a pick six. It’s true: you actually have more power in real life.

Pajama Run is our go-to play, but you can draw up your own. It just has to be some kind of activity guaranteed to be fun that immediately and physically shifts you to a dramatically different place than your current environment. For maximum results, it should feel a little like a rule that doesn’t exist. (See: wearing pajamas in public and going out after bedtime, or having ice cream right before dinner, as we often do.)

When you’re in the middle of an Adultitis attack, it’s common to feel pretty helpless and it’s tempting to throw in the towel. Don’t give up! You are the head coach of your life. You have the power to shift momentum.

The war will rage on your whole life, but you can win today’s game.

Now, blow that metaphorical whistle around your neck, call a timeout, and draw up a play that sends Adultitis to the showers.

🤔 I wonder…do you have a go-to play you like to use that always seems to turn the tide against Adultitis?

Imagine sitting at your kitchen table with a thousand puzzle pieces scattered before you.

A small island of interconnected pieces has taken shape. They were easy—the only face in the whole scene. You reach for a piece that looks like it could be part of the person’s hair. After rotating it and testing the fit a few times, you confirm it’s not the right one.

Then, angered that it didn’t work, you toss the entire table over in a furious rage. With pieces flying in every direction, you swear off jigsaw puzzles forever, convince yourself you stink at them, and remind yourself that you always knew this was how it would go. Then you slide into depression and inhale an entire can of Pringles, beating yourself up for not choosing the right piece.

Woah, you’re probably thinking, That’s not me, but whoever it is sounds like they have some serious anger management issues.

I know, it’s silly to think about getting so worked up over a simple jigsaw puzzle. Most people don’t descend into a shame spiral and immediately quit if one piece doesn’t fit. Most people just put it down and look for another one to try.

But what if the endeavor felt a little more…important?

In real life, how often do we beat ourselves up for making a wrong move? How often do we quit after the first setback? How often do we even hesitate to begin something new because we’re convinced it is beyond our capabilities, worried the journey is too arduous, or that we’ll look foolish to others if we struggle?

Maybe you’re engaged with a different kind of puzzle right now…

• Perhaps you’re trying to get a business idea off the ground
• Helping a child deal with a newly diagnosed health issue.
• Struggling to keep morale up amongst your team.
• Or maybe you’re adjusting to an overwhelmingly different work routine or environment.

Like a sea of puzzle pieces laid across your kitchen table, it probably feels pretty overwhelming. But what if you reframed your current challenge to be more like the approach you’d take in putting it together?

You know in advance what the end picture (aka “success”) is supposed to look like. 

You know that every piece you pick up isn’t going to fit perfectly the first time.

You’re not sure how long it will take, but you know that if you keep trying pieces that look like they could work, you’ll eventually complete the puzzle.

And, most importantly, you know that you are not an idiot or a terrible person simply because one thing you tried didn’t work. Especially if it’s a puzzle you’ve never encountered before.

Sure, the stakes for your challenge are higher than those surrounding the assembly of a silly jigsaw puzzle.

However.

The strategies for solving it are exactly the same.

Anger and anxiety are not going to help one bit.

That’s why I always praise the benefits of tinkering.

Tinkering—and its delightfully playful connotation—helps lower the anxiety level so we can think more clearly. It reframes our mistakes so they are not so devastating, preventing anger and shame from getting a foothold.

Tinkering is a great tool that’s a lot like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.

You try a piece that looks like it might fit. If it doesn’t, you simply look for and try another one, and another one, until you find the one that does. Then you keep going, celebrating the little wins along the way. (There’s something gratifying about the feeling when a piece clicks into place, isn’t there?)

Oh, and you don’t toss the table in a fit of rage when something doesn’t work.

So, you know that dilemma you’re mired in right now? The one that’s got you filled with frustration and self-doubt?

Yes, it’s more important than a simple jigsaw puzzle.

But treating it more like one might be the missing piece you need to solve it.

🤔 I wonder…what current challenge in your life might benefit from being looked at more like a jigsaw puzzle?

“I Just Called to Say I Love You” is a famous Stevie Wonder song. It’s also the title of this painting.

One word in that title might be more important than all the others. We’ll get to that in a sec.

When my wife Kim and I were dating, we’d spend hours and hours on the phone, talking late into the night, racking up phone bills that if bound together, would make the longest Harry Potter book look like a pamphlet. This was in the days when phones were attached to walls and the “call waiting” feature was a source of civil war for any siblings also angling for phone rights.

My personal phone habits with Kim were the exception, not the rule. To this day, I hate being on the phone, for reasons both justified and irrational, but too numerous to bore you with. I let almost everything go straight to voicemail. I am certain the quality of my life would increase exponentially if I never had to talk on the phone ever again. 

Of course, the phone is a handy tool for maintaining relationships, which is another weakness of mine. Fortunately, my wife helps with that, as she does the little things that help keep relationships alive for both of us. I am an introvert, a Type 5w4 on the Enneagram (if you know, you know), and as previously mentioned, hate the phone. A generous assessment is that I spend a lot of time in my own head and it’s easy to get lost in there. Which is good for allowing me to create wonderful things, but not so good for maintaining friendships.

Either way, it’s a perfect storm for a scenario in which if Kim dies before me, I’ll end up living alone in a home that neighborhood kids will describe as haunted and invent all sorts of urban legends about the old guy who supposedly lives there.

Part of my problem is that I overthink relationships. In our own ways, maybe we all do.

Friendships can stall if we make them too complicated or set expectations too high. Failing to meet them finds us buried in an ever-mounting pile of “shoulds.” The more time that passes, the more time we assume is required for catching up. And of course, life rarely drops oceans of uninterrupted time into our laps, so… the relationship slowly grows stale and eventually dies.

A recent conversation convinced me of that being a flawed approach.

Andy Gullahorn is a songwriter in Nashville who started an interesting routine with his friend Gabe several years ago. Every week, Andy goes for a walk. Gabe, who lives a mile-and-a-half away, does the same thing, at the same time. They walk toward each other, and when they meet, they give each other a high five. Sometimes they stop to play badminton. Oftentimes, no words are exchanged and they simply head back home.

Kim and I had a chance to interview Andy, and he shared another routine he has with a friend who lives in Houston. Since an in-person high-five is out of the question, every Monday for six years, they simply exchange fist bump emojis. That’s it. And yet the connection has deepened to such an extent that Andy says he trusts that friend with his life.

Andy’s advice is to start small. And ridiculous. “It doesn’t have to be dead serious to make a deep connection,” he says. “In fact, if that’s where it starts, it’s hard to maintain that. The high five is just a stupid foundation to hold real relationship.”

Of course, not every relationship needs to be maintained for all time. Some people come into our lives for a reason or a season. But Andy’s right. Maybe we should focus on uncomplicating the friendships we want to fertilize.

In the interview, he challenged viewers to just commit to not having a deep conversation but to just exchange winks, or honk at each other as they pass one another on the road, even without saying another word. 

That’s why maybe the most important word in Stevie’s classic song is…”just.”

I JUST called to say I love you. That’s it. No fanfare. No guilt trips. No phone bills weighty enough to kill a small mammal.

We don’t always need to have an hour-long conversation for our relationships to thrive. 

A high five or a fist bump emoji might just do the trick. 👊

My young traveling companion poked me on the elbow with a request I didn’t see coming.

From the moment Kim and I made the decision to move ahead with taking Ginny on her first Daddy Daughter trip despite the storm that had wrought havoc on our home, my mind was in overdrive. 

From forcing it to focus on what needed to land in my suitcase, to finding a gas station that had power so we could refuel, to asking the gate agent if he could make sure our seats were together, my brain was busy anticipating and solving every challenge that presented itself on our journey to Tennessee.

Finally, we were on the plane, seats together, and her seatbelt was buckled. (Good thing they still have those important safety messages; the break from traveling left me rusty on knowing how seatbelts work.) Everything was going smoothly. Our first leg was almost over as we started our descent into Detroit. 

Then came the gentle poke and the unexpected request.

“Can I hold your hand?”

She didn’t need to say anything else. The look of concern – but not panic – in her sparkling blue eyes said enough. It wasn’t her first flight, but it was the first in a while. And the landing part was giving her pause.

“Of course,” I said, as a I grabbed her hand. 

No other words were exchanged, but during the descent, every time her stomach sensed a sudden drop in elevation, she squeezed a little bit tighter. It made my Daddy’s heart swell.

In the aftermath of dealing with the losses dealt by the storm, it’s been interesting to be on the receiving end of people trying to help us as we grieve. As far as I can tell, everyone is well-intentioned. But their level of effectiveness…varies widely.

The truth is, helping someone who is grieving is incredibly hard. Especially when it comes to knowing what to say. We want to provide comfort, we want to take away the pain, we want to say the right thing.

It’s hard. But Ginny helped me to see that maybe we make it harder than it needs to be. 

When she meekly reached for my hand, she just needed me to grab it.

She didn’t need me to tell her her feelings were wrong. 

She didn’t need me to explain the physics of aerodynamics and how we were perfectly safe.

She didn’t need me to remind her that other people are dealing with even scarier things. 

She didn’t even need me to tell her it was going to be ok. 

She didn’t need me to say anything. 

She just needed me to hold her hand. 

She just needed me to be there.

On a day that had me feeling overwhelmed, overmatched, and out of my element, it was the one thing for which I was totally qualified.

Maybe you’ve been given the opportunity to come alongside someone who is grieving. Maybe you will be soon. 

It’s not an easy task, but you are plenty qualified for it. Don’t worry so much about what to say. They don’t need you to tell them their feelings are wrong, or how things could be worse, or about someone you know who went through something even harder, or even that everything will be ok. 

It might be better if you don’t say anything at all. 

Just metaphorically (or literally) figure out a way to hold their hand or give them a really big hug.

It doesn’t seem like much, but trust me, just being there matters.

Everyone thinks the excitement that accompanies the start of a relationship is the best. 

Granted, it IS intoxicating. Everything is new and mysterious. You’re wondering if the other person just likes you or actually “likes you” likes you. A simple touch ignites an inferno of passion. There’s so much to talk about as you’re constantly learning new things about one another. That way he chews, and that way she steals your jacket when she’s cold, is still cute and endearing.

There’s no doubt about it: The beginning of a new relationship is pretty great.

But then again, in the beginning, you’re just two separate entities. Like bread and cheese. Cheese is good. Bread is good. Put them together and you have a cheese sandwich. Also good.

But Johnny Cash was right when he sang that love is a burning thing. It doesn’t get really good until you’ve gone through some fires together. That’s when you really get to know what you’re made of, as you melt together and you become one. That melty, gooey goodness is where the magic’s at. And have you ever tried to separate a grilled cheese sandwich? It’s not easy. Which is how it should be. 

Combined, my parents and Kim’s parents have been married for over 90 years. They have struggled and endured many, many fires. But through it all, they’ve stuck together. In today’s day and age, that’s no small feat. Is there a secret? I don’t know. I’m sure there’s luck involved, but I know that it’s not all luck. I know communication is really important. And mutual respect. And a willingness to give more than you get.

But I think the real secret is that it comes down to a choice to stick together, no matter what. Infatuation is a feeling, but love? Love is a choice. When my parents exchanged vows on their wedding day, promising they’d be there for each other no matter what, in sickness and in health, through the good time and the fires…they meant it. For reals. 

And when I married Kim, that’s how I looked at it too. Death will have to break us apart, it’s the only option. We have not left an escape hatch for ourselves. The ships back to a world where we go our separate ways are smoldering sticks of charcoal. When disagreements emerge, a fight erupts, and feelings are hurt, Plan A is to work it out.

There is no Plan B. 

When you don’t burn the ships, there’s a very high probability that someday, you’ll use them to sail away from one another. 

Of course, you can throw all of this out the window if both people aren’t on board. If one flakes out or doesn’t live up to the promise, it all falls apart. And that is nothing short of heart-breaking.

I write this to give hope to the newlyweds, to the people thinking about giving this love thing another go, and to those who are in the middle of one of those scary fires right now. 

As James Blunt sang, “Everybody wants a flame, they don’t want to get burnt.”

It’s true: once you get past the lovey-dovey stage of a relationship, and experience the fires that flare up when things get real, you will come out a little charred. 

But that char – the battle scars from a life lived together – add a richness, depth, and magic that a regular old cheese sandwich can only dream about. 

Mr. Olsen had written a series of math problems across several chalkboards. The avalanche of white scribbles was overwhelming, but not impossible. “Anyone who gets them all correct,” he told his fifth grade class, “will get a sucker.” 

Sheryl was one of five students who were up to the task. Unfortunately, the teacher said he only had four suckers, and was forced to ask if anyone would be willing to give up theirs. Sheryl said she would. Mr. Olsen thanked her, and proceeded with the rest of the school day.

Before the students were dismissed that afternoon, Mr. Olsen asked Sheryl to stay after school so he could talk to her. She’d never been asked stay after school, and she was terrified!

After all the other students exited the classroom. Mr. Olsen asked Sheryl to have a seat at his desk. He pulled open the bottom drawer and withdrew a whole, unopened bag of suckers and presented it to her. With a look of shock across her face, Mr. Olsen said, “Sheryl, what you did today was very generous and I am very proud of you. You did a good thing and I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate having you in my class. Thank you.”

This is a true story and it gives me chills. It’s just one of many that flooded my inbox after last week’s article, where I implored you to do something important: 

Notice something good in someone, and tell them what you see.

Sheryl told me, “Forty-five years later and I still remember how that simple statement made me feel. It is a memory that does not fade. It is a memory of feeling ‘seen.’ Many of us were bullied as children and our families did not provide the love and support that children require. This ONE person ‘seeing’ me made all the difference. It gave me confidence and pride that I had never felt before. It became a seedling of hope.”

I wish I could show you all of the emails I received, each one testifying to the importance of this one, simple action. Here’s a sampling:

“In middle school, at recess, my principle who was doing playground duty, saw I was trying to hang out with the wrong crowd just to belong. She basically said stay away from those kids. I felt she valued me and cared what happened to me.”

“My 5th grade teacher was so kind and caring. She had us do a lot of projects and she encouraged me to be creative. I’m 52 and she’s the teacher who I can still remember how good I felt in her classroom.”

“I had a mentor in my graduate program who told me I was “too bright not to get my PhD.”  That one comment changed my life.”

“One day as I was leaving class, my 7th grade language arts teacher said how she wished to be like me when she grew up. She explained that I had such surety and confidence in who I was and I didn’t let the desire to fit in and be popular (a huge thing for most middle schoolers) change the way I behaved. I stayed true to myself. That message has stuck with me and helped me hold onto my convictions when it would have been easier to just let them go and do what everyone else was doing.”

Some folks admitted they had a hard time coming up with more than a few names. How sad is that, when you think of all of the adults that a person encounters in just the first eighteen years of life? What a missed opportunity for all those potential influencers! I was delighted to hear one reader, a teacher herself, say that she makes a point to tell one student a day something she sees in them. 

Question: How many third grade teachers imagine their students as 62-year-olds? If you are, you should, because if you do your job well, you’ll still be an important part of the person’s story when their own grandkids are starting first grade. I heard from a 62-year-old woman who still holds tightly to the inspired spark of encouragement given to her by a third grade teacher, using it as a life preserver keeping her afloat in a sea of self-doubt and uncertainty, all these years later.

Which brings up another important point that surfaced. Maybe there really is only one person who ever saw something amazing in you and told you about it. That doesn’t mean it’s not true. You don’t need a quorum for it to count. It’s more likely that dozens of people have seen the same thing in you but never actually told you. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they never realized how important it was. Maybe they thought you already knew. As I said previously, we assume people are able to see their own strengths. But we often don’t, because our strengths come naturally to us, so we assume they come easy to everyone, and discount them as anything special.

And don’t underestimate the power of specificity. Many people recalled very specific things that were said to them, down to the exact words. I’ve been fortunate to have many cheerleaders in my life, but the ones that stand out are the ones who praised something specific about me, like my leadership skills or creative writing ability.  

I think about something Kim and I have done with our kids. We call Ginny “Little Miss Thoughtful,” because she seems to always search for creative ways to help someone. Ben is our “Sunshine Boy,” bringing smiles and positivity to others. Lucy is the “Peacemaker,” thanks to ability to skillfully negotiate peace treaties between her siblings.

These are nicknames we’ve given our kids, based on the traits we’ve identified in their personality and have seen them exhibit repeatedly in their young lives. But they’ve also become aspirational, as they work to live up to them. It’s a virtuous circle.

Compare that to the countless children – and the adults they’ve become – who have been repeatedly told that they are stupid, useless, or troublemakers, and won’t amount to anything.

We tend to live up to (or down to) the expectations others have for us.

On that point, one last email to share:

“Mr. John Sipe taught choir, Music Appreciation, Music Theory, and directed the spring musicals at my high school. This man had the ability to see each and every one of his students, value and respect them, find their hidden talents, and give them the confidence to move forward in the world. Beyond music, he taught us all life lessons in learning from and respecting others. By seeing each of us, he saved us.”

He saved us.

If you want to make a difference in the world; if you want to leave a legacy, here’s how: notice something good in someone, and tell them what you see.

Try this: Starting today, stop making deposits into your checking account.

But continue writing checks to pay your bills.

What happens when you write a check the day after your money runs out?

It’s pretty easy to see the financial lesson here. What’s interesting is that we can apply the same lesson to relationships.

So many parents tell me what a struggle it is to get their kids to do anything. They always have to get after them to get up and ready for school, do their homework, eat their vegetables, pick up after themselves, look presentable for church, etc. 

It’s exhausting! Parenting is no joke, and continues to be the biggest challenge I’ve ever encountered. 

I’d like to share an idea – it felt like a magic trick – I got from my wife when our kids were very young:

You can’t expect to make withdrawals from your kids if you haven’t made any deposits.

Of course, all the feeding, changing diapers, sleepless nights, and providing a roof over their heads are a significant  and emotionally expensive deposit. The problem is that kids don’t perceive nor understand those efforts, not at that age. But there is something magical that happens when you sit on the floor with a three-year-old, and let them run the show. You get on their level and let them dictate the play. You are not guiding things along to keep yourself interested, or sneaking glances at your phone as a respite from the intense boredom that develops in 17 seconds, but instead, are 100% present. 

Time and time again, I was shocked at how amazingly valuable even 10 minutes spent in this way could be. There was always less push back and more cooperation later on. 

Yes, I still have to remind my kids about things from time to time. But I don’t experience the struggle many parents describe when I ask my kids to do something, and I don’t think it’s because I won the magical kid lottery. It’s because Kim and I are conscious of making deposits, not just always making withdrawals by demanding things from them. (And believe me, I have experienced the consequences when we slip.)

The thing is, this is not just a handy parenting hack. It works with every relationship the same way as it does with the bank down the street. 

Toddlers.
Twelve-year-olds.
Teenagers. 
Spouses.
Friends.
God. 

If your relationship seems dull, dying, or downright combative, it might be worth asking: when is the last time I actually made a deposit?

To be present. To ask a thoughtful question, actually listen to the answer, and then ask a follow-up question. To do something for that person that wasn’t on the top of your list of your interests. 

It’s the sports agnostic wife watching a football game with her fanatical husband.

It’s the husband taking a few hours to help his wife set up her new scrapbooking room.

It’s the dad participating in a Barbie fashion show on the living room floor.

It’s the mom asking her son about the ins and outs of Minecraft.

It’s the parent sitting on the floor with a toddler, willing to be the one taking orders for a change.

If you want relationships with many happy returns, you need to make deposits first. 

Kim and I doing one of our favorite things: walking. We’ve been walking since our earliest days together, back when we couldn’t afford to run the air conditioning in our apartment and a trip to Pizza Hut was a real splurge. Over nineteen years into our marriage, and I am convinced it is one of the biggest keys to keeping it fresh. We brainstorm business ideas, talk about the kids, explore our faith, hash out our struggles, work through problems, dream of the future, and sometimes just admire the scenery. Even after all these years, we never run out of stuff to talk about.

My parents have always been big on hopping in the car and going on rides. Strong marriages are built on communication, and there’s just something about movement that helps jumpstart conversation.

#strongmarriage #walkingbyfaith #happydoughnuts

I was in a small country cemetery recently, thinking about autumn and life and the end of another baseball season, when I saw these trees. All of them marching toward the sleep of winter, the one on the right still filled with leaves, another with only a few left to give.

I wondered, “Which one am I?”

As of this writing, I am forty-two years old. No spring sapling, that’s for sure. I’m old enough and experienced enough to know that I could be either tree.

I think about death a lot, mostly because it helps me think about my life, and how well I’m spending it. Anniversaries are piling up. Pictures from my early days of marriage looks less and less like the person that greets me in the mirror each morning.

And my kids. They are growing up so fast. Too fast. Memories of their newborn days seem like borrowed photographs from someone else’s life.

Life can be hard, but it is good. I’d give anything to slow it all down. I rack my brain for something I can do to help.

How do I appreciate what I have more deeply? How do I savor more? How do I make the most of the time with my wife and my kids? Surely there is something I can, you know, DO?

Spend every waking moment with them? I did that when they were two weeks old and I don’t remember most of it.

Hug them a little tighter? That’s a cliché you hear a lot. But I tried that, and all I got were mumbled replies that sounded something like, “You’re hurting me Dad, I can’t breathe…”

I don’t know, it was hard to hear.

Unfortunately, I came to the conclusion that there doesn’t seem to be anything I can DO to appreciate more, savor more, live more. But it dawns on me that the insight I’m looking for actually lies in a list of DONT’s:

• Don’t wait for your to do list to be cleared before living your life. It never will be.
• Don’t let your attention get stolen by a screen when you’re in the presence of a loved one.
• Don’t waste time worrying about things that don’t matter. (More things than you think fall into this category.)
• Don’t worry so much about messes. Sometimes that’s where the best memories are made.
• Don’t spend so much time looking though a viewfinder that you miss experiencing the real thing.
• Don’t abide by rules that don’t exist.
• Don’t toil away in a job you hate.
• Don’t wait for tomorrow to forgive, or ask for forgiveness.
• Don’t wait for a reason to tell someone you love them. Today is as good a day as any.
• Don’t expect that you’ll be any happier tomorrow than you decided to be today.
• Don’t put off memories for tomorrow that can be made today.

Don’t usually has a negative connotation, especially for a non-conformist such as me. But I’ve found that a list like this is as helpful as anything I’ve found to ensure that regardless of how many leaves I have left, when the last one falls, it will not be in regret.

We finally made it to Victoria in British Columbia after hearing about it from so many travelers who spoke of it with stars in their eyes. Kim and I have always had a thing for the Pacific Northwest, but between the mountain views, the ocean air, and the old British charm, it didn’t disappoint.

When we were preparing to board the ferry to return to the States, the customs officer seemed genuinely shocked to hear from us that people referred to it as a magical place.

“Huh,” he shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

I was surprised by his response, and a little saddened. I suppose I shouldn’t have been. It’s easy to take for granted the things that are familiar to us.

So who is right? The people who see Victoria as a magical place? Or the officer who sees nothing out of the ordinary?

I’d say they both are.

The truth is that so much of what we get out of life depends on our perspective. Of course, that perspective may spring forth from our circumstance, but we always have the option of changing it, if we’d like.

After twenty years of marriage, we can keep an eye out for all the flaws, imperfections, and annoying habits of the person we chose to spend our life with. Or we can notice the strengths that he or she brings to the relationship, and the endearing idiosyncrasies that we fell in love with.

Likewise, you can keep track of all the things you despise about your job, or choose to focus on the parts you enjoy and the good things that come from having it.

The world around you can seem ordinary, boring and filled with problems. But at the same time, magic is everywhere.

Seeing it is a choice.

I once read a pretty incredible assessment of marriage. It was written by my friend Scott, who was reacting to the habit our culture has of framing marriage as the end of freedom. Acquiring the ball and chain. Hitched. Tied down. Game over.

Refreshingly, Scott countered with this:

“Marriage is the ultimate form of freedom. Freedom to be our true selves, freedom to let our guards down and be vulnerable, and freedom to fart as loudly as possible without being judged. When I was single and struggling to find someone to share my life with, exhausting activities like resenting and pretending and impressing took up its of space in my heart…But the moment we tied the knot, all of that vanished. Suddenly I was released from the prison of having to prove myself.”

I couldn’t agree more. One of the neat things about being married is being able to know another person on a deep level. There is a sense of comfort and freedom that comes when you don’t have to pretend like you have it all together.

The downside, of course, is that comfortability can become stale.

The answer is not to run to the arms of someone new and fresh, who still (mistakenly) sees you as Mr. or Mrs Perfect.

The answer is to bring the new into your current relationship. This can be done by sharing a new experience and creating new memories together, which gives you all new things to discuss and learn about each other.

Another great idea is to set up a weekly coffee date, in which each person has to think of a question to ask the other. Questions like, “Did you drop off the dry cleaning?” “Do you need me to pick up Billy from practice tomorrow?” or “Have you seen my blue pinstripe shirt?” don’t count.

No matter how much you know someone, there’s always something new to learn. The magic is in asking the right questions. If you do this once a week, you have six days to think of a good one. Here are some freebies:

• What was your most embarrassing high school moment?
• What was your favorite family vacation growing up?
• What one thing did you love most about a grandparent?
• What is your favorite memory of us dating?
• If you could meet one famous person, who would it be?
• What are 3 countries you’d like to visit and why?
• If you could go back in time, what age would you be?
• If you could live anywhere for a year, where would you choose?

One of Adultitis’ favorite places to thrive is in otherwise healthy marriages. If anything, Adultitis is the old ball and chain.

The good news is that, as usual, a good question can be the key to freedom.

P.S. For some more tips on bring the fun back into your relationship, check out our free Cupid Vs. Adultitis ebook stashed away in the Adultitis Fighter Arsenal.

The world is changing at an ever-increasing pace. Meanwhile, most of us are being asked to do more with less. The answer to a prosperous and glorious future, it seems, is innovation. That’s all well and good, except for the fact that innovation is often regarded as one step away from sorcery. It is reserved for the super smart, super creative, or super inhabitants of Silicon Valley.

Hogwash.

You can be more innovative, right now, today. (I don’t care if you are reading this in your pajamas or your hair looks like it just took on a tornado.)

The dictionary tells us that innovation is merely the introduction of a new and better method, idea or thing.

That’s it. So yeah, the iPhone was a pretty ginormous innovation. But you know what else was? The person who came up with the idea to put tennis balls on walkers. Apparently they add value somehow, because every walker I’ve ever seen has one on each leg.

Contrary to popular belief, innovation can be easy, but only if you know how to ask the right questions. Or rather, question. For there is one magic question that, when asked regularly, will make you the more innovative person you know. Would you like to know what it is?

Good. It’s this: “What’s one thing I can do to make this a little bit better?”

One thing. Not seventy.

A little bit better. Not “this is a paradigm shift that will alter the time-space continuum and impact the history of mankind.”

That’s it. Seems simple, but don’t be fooled, for that’s where the power lies. Too often we get overwhelmed by the enormity of the task at hand. How do I increase sales by 25 percent? How do I make my entire organization more efficient? How do create a new game-changing product? How do I keep the doors of our company from closing? How do I become a master at this new software program? How do I blow the boss away with my proposal?

The big leaps of innovation are sexy. But the biggest gains often come from things that seem small at first. Those small changes add up. If you find 50 things that result in a 2% improvement, before long you’ve just improved by 100%.

Here’s the cool thing. The “this” in the magic question can be anything.

What’s one thing I can do to make our work culture a little bit more fun?
What’s one thing I can do to make a little bit of a difference in my neighborhood?
What’s one thing I can do to make my marriage a little bit better?
What’s one thing I can do to save a little money?
What’s one thing I can do to be a little bit of a better parent?

Just think of one thing, and then try it. If it doesn’t work, no biggie. Try something else. If it does, keep doing it until it becomes a habit and then ask the question again.

Eventually, people will start seeing your results and wonder how you did it, assuming you must be one of those smart, creative, Silicon Valley types.

I won’t tell your secret. :)

Isn’t it strange how when you’ve just fallen in love, the object of your affection’s weird idiosyncrasies seem cute? And then, after twenty years of marriage, the way their nose twitches when they tell a funny story, the unusual way they cut their steak, or the specific way they order at a fast food drive-up window, makes you want to wallop them with a rolling pin?

Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too. ;)

Interestingly, studies show that divorce isn’t usually caused by an increase in problems. It’s often caused by a decrease in positive feelings. Shelly Gable, professor of psychology at the University of California at Santa Barbara, has demonstrated that how you celebrate is more predictive of strong relations than how you fight.

In the early stages of a relationship, celebrations are abundant and all the feels are good. You measure anniversaries in weeks and months, cheer each other on, and rejoice over the smallest of milestones. All of these things work to overshadow the potential annoyances, coloring them as “cute.”

Take away the celebrations, and it’s not long before you start eyeing that rolling pin.

This Valentine’s Day, whether you’re looking to resuscitate a floundering relationship or just keep things humming along, don’t worry so much about the expensive displays of affection. Instead focus on flooding your relationships with the positive feelings that come from mini celebrations.

Every day for a week, hide a note for your partner that highlights one thing you appreciate about them.

Volunteer to chip in and cheerfully help them with a project they’ve been working on.

Raise a glass of wine to the little things, like the finishing up of a home improvement project, the unexpected tax refund, or the success of finally getting your infant to sleep through the night.

Start doing the fun things you used to love doing together, before life got so busy and the routine turned into a rut.

Author Anne Lamott said, “I am all the ages I’ve ever been.” That means the goofy, giddy, hormone-drenched teenager is still in there.

It’s ok to throw that kid the car keys once in a while.

* * * * *

Want to reignite the spark with your sweetheart and make your relationship more fun and adventurous? Get the free ebook with our best tips here!

I recently read an article about a celebrity chef. In it, he talked about his nightly ritual with his wife: “At around 11:30 or 12:00, we talk. Not just, ‘How are you?’ I like to have a soulful conversation with her, a meaningful conversation. And then after that, I fall asleep within two seconds. I am just beat. I am beat.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Are you freaking kidding me? A soulful conversation? At midnight?! In which you are so “alert” that you fall asleep within two seconds of having it?

Granted, I am not in the room with them, but I’d love to ask the wife just how meaningful these late-night conversations are for her.

Look, everyone says they have their priorities in order. “Family first!” is the familiar cry. But Adultitis is eternally tempting us to let our focus slide to other things. Our pride and ambitions can drive us to chase wealth, status, and adulation, often at the expense of the people we care about the most, while we expertly rationalize that we are doing this for their benefit.

Meanwhile, we convince ourselves that the leftover scraps of time and attention we have to offer them suffice for something meaningful.

And we stay just busy enough so that we never have the time to wonder if we’re really just kidding ourselves.

Want a relationship that not only lasts but gets better and better as you go along? Without a doubt, one important ingredient is regularly-scheduled date nights. Contrary to popular belief, date nights aren’t just for people who are dating! What starts out as a normal and frequent part of every relationship becomes an endangered species once a few years and children and pile up.

It’s worth pointing out the “scheduled” part of regularly-scheduled is key here. Don’t expect to magically “find” time. You’re more likely to have an errant asteroid hurtle through Earth’s atmosphere and magically “find” your house. Think about it: if you need to have an important meeting with a client, you don’t wait to magically bump into them at a coffee shop — you schedule it! We schedule all the important stuff in our lives, and this is as important as it gets.

Ok, now that we have that squared away, what are you going to do on this freshly scheduled date night? Dinner and a movie? Oh hells no. That’s exactly what Adultitis will be expecting. And besides, you deserve better than that.

Here are some killer ideas to do instead:

1. Revert to Childhood. Go do something that kids like, but don’t bring kids. Go to the zoo, feed the goats, and take in a sea lion show. Visit an amusement park or a video game arcade or a haunted house. Heck, even a park with good old fashioned human-powered swings will do the trick.

2. Go on a Penny Date. When you have a map to anywhere and GPS in your pocket, it’s really hard to get lost. That’s too bad, because sometimes getting lost can lead to great adventures. So get all gussied up and and grab a penny. Get in the car and let your partner choose a number between 10 and 20. This will be the number of times you flip the penny. Pull out of the driveway and begin your adventure. Heads is right, Tails is left. Every time you come to an intersection, flip the penny and turn the corresponding direction. Once you get to the number your partner picked at the beginning, stop. Look around. Make a date where you are.

3. Mystery Meal. Pick a random cookbook off the shelf. Flip to a page. Each person gets two “vetoes,” but otherwise the random recipe becomes a grocery run and combo cooking adventure!

4. Pick a Fight. For some reason, playful fighting is a great way to flirt, which of course, often leads to other good things. So have a pillow fight. Or a popcorn fight. Or a water balloon fight. Or a snowball fight. You get the idea. (Just don’t have a frozen water balloon fight.)

5. Learn Yourself Something. Take a fun class together. Something like glass blowing, painting, cooking, photography, ballroom dancing, underwater naked basketweaving (I’m not here to judge). Pick something neither of you has ever really done before. Perhaps you’ll make something you can proudly show off in your home or learn a new skill that will lead to even more date nights!

6. Plan a Mystery Trip. A friend of mine likes planning what she calls “mystery trips” for her husband. She packs a bag for him and they start in the driveway with one envelope. It gives him a clue as to where they are headed (usually a breakfast stop) and then after breakfast he gets a new envelope with the next destination, and so on, until well into the night. One time it included a hockey game and a stay at a fancy hotel. The fun is in him not knowing what’s coming next, and the anticipation of each step getting a little bigger than the activity before. Take things to the next level with a few token gifts along the way!

7. G’Day Mate. If you MUST go to a dinner and a movie, add this little wrinkle that’s guaranteed to put Adultitis’ panties in a bunch: Speak in a fake accent to every stranger you encounter. Your Uber driver. The hostess. The waiter. The ticket taker. It doesn’t matter what accent it is, and it doesn’t even have to be very good. You just have to own it like a boss. The good news is that doing it together can bolster your courage and makes it tons of fun!

Hopefully this list will get you off to a good start in keeping your relationship fresh, fun, and going strong forever. If you want to take things to the next level, click here to download a checklist of 52 date night ideas (one for every week of the year!)

At the most recent Escape Adulthood Summit, a woman named Kate shared an awesome technique for winning arguments.

It all started on a simple premise agreed upon by Kate and her husband. They decided that no matter how angry they were with each other during the course of an argument, if one of them said, “Lincoln Log!” they would both have to laugh.

(Actually, the word they used was “raccoon,” but she joked that it was already taken. Lincoln Log seemed fun — you can use it if you want. So does cantaloupe. Or sasquatch. Use your imagination!)

She described a typical scenario. An argument begins and quickly escalates, with both sides angrily stating their cases. In the heat of the action, just as Kate prepares to unload with both barrels, her husband says, “Raccoon!” At first she thinks to herself, “I CANNOT believe you pulled out “raccoon” right now; I was just about to bury you!” But inevitably, giggles burst free. Before long, both parties get some instant — and much-needed — perspective.

Most arguments usually morph into a match for superiority, with the actual reason for the argument is lost in the desire to win. When you use the “Raccoon” technique, it diffuses the situation in an instant, and cooler heads usually prevail.

Now you may wonder to yourself, “But who actually wins? The person who said the code word? The person who laughs first?”

That’s the coolest part: You both do.

It’s Adultitis that goes home the loser, its head hung in shame.

Your turn: What’s your favorite argument-diffusing technique? What do you think would make a great code word?

A wedding is supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life. But it can also be a breeding ground for Adultitis. This sinister foe downright salivates at events involving formal wear, the merging of families, and an expectation that everything is supposed to go perfectly.

Is it possible to Adultitis-proof your wedding?

Yes.

But it requires a mindset that decides you’re going to have fun no matter what the caterer messes up or your mother-in-law does.

It also helps to incorporate some ideas that send the message to you and your guests that Adultitis is not invited. I’ve been collecting some of my favorite best Adultitis-free invites, favors, photo-ops and more on a Pinterest board.

What are YOUR favorite ideas for Adultitis-proofing a wedding?

Kim and I always do something childlike on our anniversary. One year we went to the circus. Another time we visited Toys “R” Us on Times Square. This year, we took the kids to Medieval Times.

Actually, that happened the day AFTER our anniversary. On our real anniversary, our sister-in-law watched the kids so we could play hooky and have lunch on a beautiful day. (Pretty childlike in its own right, I guess.) At lunch overlooking Lake Monona, we had a chance to chat about many things, gloriously uninterrupted.

We reminisced about our anniversary adventures.

We talked about the logistics of bringing the kids to a funeral the next day. It was for a friend’s mom, who passed away suddenly only two weeks after her husband had retired.

We talked about the fleeting nature of life, silently hoping that such a thing would never happen to us.

Then I asked Kim a question: “If this was our last anniversary together, how would you wish we’d have spent it?”

The gravity of the question slammed into us like a city bus.

I don’t know about anyone else, but when Kim and I ask questions like this, the first answer is not, “I’d drop everything and fly to Paris so we could share a kiss on the Eiffel Tower.” If it were, I suppose the questions would not be a very useful tool, except for plunging us into debt.

For us, the question really means, “What’s the thing you’ve really been thinking of doing a lot about lately, but haven’t out of fear or complacency?”

This year, the answer was Medieval Times.

The closest one to us is near Chicago. We’ve driven by it several times during the past year, each time thinking about how much Lucy would enjoy it. She is very into castles and princesses and horses right now, and Medieval Times has them in spades. The reason we’d resisted was exclusively financial. Tickets are not cheap. Cheaper than tickets to Paris, of course, but still not necessarily in the budget.

I was reminded of a favorite saying from my friend Scott, who says, “Now that I have this, what does this make possible?” It has been normally used in the context of business, i.e., “Now that I have added this facet to my business, how could I leverage it in other areas?” But I also like to think of it anytime life throws me a curveball. Like when something negative happens and there’s nothing you can do about it. What good thing is now possible that wouldn’t have been otherwise? In this case, the week before, going to a funeral two hours aways was not on the agenda. Now it was and we were committed to going. So…what did our decision to go to the funeral now make possible?

We realized that the location of the funeral was a few miles from Medieval Times. It would be an early morning and a lot to ask of the kids, but perhaps ending the day with a dinner and tournament would be a fitting reward?

“If this is our last anniversary together, how would you wish we’d have spent it?”

Even though we hadn’t budgeted for this excursion, in the grand scheme of things, it would be a mere speck on our financial history. If this was our last anniversary together, there was no doubt we would regret not going for it. So we did.

The morning WAS early and the day WAS long, but the kids were so well-behaved through it all. We didn’t tell Lucy of our plans, even though we drove past the castle several times throughout the day. She was definitely curious about who lived there. Keeping it a surprise made the smile on her face priceless when we finally turned into the parking lot for the dinner show.

And as a sign that it was all meant to be, Lucy was made Queen of the Tournament by the Black & White Knight.

A happy anniversary, indeed.