Even the weatherman gets caught in the rain

Even the weatherman gets caught in the rain

Even the Weatherman Gets Caught in the Rain

There’s something both humbling and strangely comforting about that image, isn’t there? The weatherman who is supposed to be the very person whose job it is to predict the storm, is standing there in the pouring rain. I picture said person with an oversized umbrella covering their head and a look of somewhat disbelief. For me, it’s a reminder that knowledge, preparation, and even the best-laid plans don’t guarantee the outcome we’re hoping for.

Recently I was driving in the car with my son and he played a song for me. “Hypotheticals” by Lake Street Drive.  There is a line in that song that says “even the weatherman gets caught in the rain sometimes.”  That got me thinking about the plans many of us make in January to ensure we stick to our goals or resolutions. These plans are made with our best intentions and knowledge of our current day situations and even with that being said, our plans don’t always come to fruition. Sometimes for me, my own planning often comes with stress and maybe if I am being really honest, some unrealistic expectations.  There, I said it. Can you relate?

If you made New Year’s resolutions this January, you’re probably feeling one of two things right now: either you’re riding high on momentum, or you’re already watching those carefully crafted plans slip through your fingers like water. Maybe you planned to exercise five days a week, but you got sick. Maybe you committed to a new budget, but an unexpected expense threw everything off track. Perhaps you resolved to be more patient, more present, more faithful—and yet here you are, feeling like you’ve already failed.

Here’s what I want you to know: your plan falling apart doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

We live in a culture that worships certainty. We make our lists, set our goals, break them down into actionable steps. We study the forecast, check the radar, plan accordingly. And there’s wisdom in that. The book of Proverbs reminds us that “the plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance.”  I do still believe that planning matters, preparation matters. But somewhere between our desire for control and the reality of life, we forget that we’re not the ones writing the whole story.

The truth is, life is unpredictable. People disappoint us. Bodies break down. Opportunities vanish. Doors we thought were wide open slam shut in our faces. And sometimes, despite doing everything “right,” we still find ourselves caught in the rain.

But what if that’s not the tragedy we think it is?

When your resolution crumbles in week two, it doesn’t negate the intention behind it. When your carefully mapped plan takes a detour, it doesn’t mean you’ve wasted all your efforts. Sometimes the rain that disrupts our plans is exactly what waters the soil for something new to grow. Maybe it is something we never could have planted ourselves.

I think about the disciples, who had their own ideas about how things should go. They followed Jesus expecting a kingdom, a revolution, a plan that made sense to them. Instead, they got a cross. They got confusion. They got three days of wondering if they’d wasted everything on a dream that had literally died. They didn’t understand that what looked like failure was actually the most important pivot in human history.

That’s the gentle paradox of faith: we’re called to plan, to work, to steward what we’ve been given and simultaneously to hold those plans with open hands. To trust that when things don’t go according to our design, it might be because there’s a better design we can’t see yet. For me that is FAITH.

Friends, this note isn’t an excuse for laziness or a dismissal of personal responsibility. You should still make your plans. You should still set goals, create habits, pursue growth. But maybe this year, alongside our carefully crafted plans, we can also practice the art of resilience. The ability to get caught in the rain and keep walking. Maybe we could even take a page from the old musical and start “Singing in the Rain”.  It is our opportunity to reassess, recalibrate, and keep moving forward even when the path looks different than we expected.

Here’s what resilient people know: setbacks are data, not verdicts. When your plan doesn’t work, it’s information. Maybe the goal needs adjusting. Maybe the timeline was unrealistic. Maybe you need support you didn’t account for. Or maybe (and this is the hardest one to accept), maybe this particular door is closed because you’re meant to walk through a different one.

The weatherman getting caught in the rain isn’t a failure of expertise. It’s a reminder that prediction isn’t the same as control. We can study the patterns, make educated guesses, prepare the best we know how, AND still get surprised. And that’s okay. That’s just part of being human.

So if your resolutions are already looking shaky, take a breath. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just learning what every weatherman learns eventually: sometimes you do everything right and still get wet.

The question isn’t whether you’ll get caught in the rain. The question is: what will you do when you do? Will you stand there defeated, or will you adjust your collar, find your footing, and keep walking? Will you abandon every good intention because one approach didn’t work, or will you have the courage to try again, differently this time.

Grace means we get to start again. Not just on January 1st, but on any Tuesday in February or even on a random day in July. We always have the opportunity to reset and adjust. That’s not failure, I believe that’s wisdom. That’s growth. That’s the journey. 

Even the weatherman gets caught in the rain. But he doesn’t stop forecasting tomorrow.  Happy New Year, friends!  Praying you stay strong for the journey, even when a little rain comes your way.

Sweet Potato and Ginger SOUP

Sweet Potato and Ginger SOUP

Creamy Sweet Potato and Ginger Soup

Ingredients

2 Tablespoons of olive oil

1 1/2 pounds raw sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into small pieces

1 Large yellow onion, diced

1 Tablespoon butter

1 1/2 tsp. sugar

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 1/2 tsp. ground ginger

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper

3 c. chicken broth

1 1/2 c. Half and Half

2 Tablespoons fresh orange zest

Salt and Pepper to taste

Pepitas for garnish

Directions

Heat Olive oil in large sauté pan.  Add onion and garlic and sauté until golden.  Add the sweet potatoes , butter and sugar cook for about 20 minutes on medium heat until sweet potatoes become tender.

Add the ginger, red pepper flakes and nutmeg.

Next, add the chicken broth and simmer for 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and continue cooking about another 10 minutes. Add the orange zest and Half and Half.

Using an immersion blender, puree until smooth.  About 1 – 2 minutes.

Top with pepitas

Enjoy!  

Mediterranean Bean Salad

Mediterranean Bean Salad

Mediterranean Bean Salad

Ingredients –

2 15 oz. cans of white cannellini beans

3 cloves garlic, pressed

3 Tablespoons Olive Oil

2 c. water

1/4 c. red wine vinegar

1 shallot, chopped fine

1 red bell pepper, diced small

1 green pepper, diced small

1 c. cherry tomatoes, halved

1 Tablespoon Italian Seasoning

Fresh Parsley for garnish

salt and pepper to taste

Directions – 

In large pan, sauté the garlic in 2 Tablespoons of olive oil until light brown.  Add both cans of beans and 2 cups of water.  Let beans soak for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, while the beans are soaking, chop the shallot and pour the red wine vinegar over the shallot and let soak for 20 minutes.

Drain the beans and place in a large mixing bowl.  Add the shallot/vinegar mixture and the chopped vegetables and tomatoes.  Add Italian seasoning and 1 Tablespoon of olive oil.  Mix well.  Garnish with parsley and salt and pepper to taste.  Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving.

This is a great side dish and I take the leftovers for lunch as a stand alone dish.

Enjoy!

One of a Kind Christmas

One of a Kind Christmas

Walk into any store this time of year and you’ll see it everywhere – “Limited Edition,” “ Holiday Collection,” “Special Release,” “One of a Kind Gift.” Marketing teams across the globe know something true about the human heart: we’re drawn to what’s unique, what’s unrepeatable, what is perceived as valuable.

But here’s what the hype and special edition tags can’t tell you, YOU  are the original limited edition. Not the sweater. Not the gadget. You.

Before any product designer stamped “special edition” on packaging, the Creator of the universe spoke it over you. Psalm 139 reminds us that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made.”  It is our reminder that we were knit together with intention, crafted with purpose, bearing the very image of God. There has never been, nor will there ever be, another you. Your laugh, your way of seeing the world, your specific set of gifts and even your quirks. All of us are a once-in-eternity expression of divine creativity.

So why, in the season meant to celebrate the most personal gift ever given (God becoming human), do we so easily lose sight of the people right in front of us?

The holiday rush has a way of turning everyone into blurry images. We speed through checkout lines, hurry past conversations, reduce people to tasks on our list. That barista who remembers your order? The neighbor struggling to hang lights? Your teenager who needs more than a quick “how was your day?”  The very people living with us or who we say mean the world to us. Each one is an unrepeatable masterpiece, and maybe if we are honest, we’re missing them.

What if this Christmas, we chose to slow down enough to really see?

It starts with a simple shift in intention. When you’re standing in line, look up. Make eye contact. When someone asks how you are, pause long enough to answer honestly—and to actually listen to their answer. When your family gathers, put the phone down. These aren’t interruptions to your holiday agenda; they’re invitations to witness the sacred in the ordinary.

Because here’s the heart of the Christmas story: God didn’t send a mass-produced message or a generic salvation plan. He sent a Person. Jesus arrived as a specific baby, in a specific place, to specific parents, so that every person could know they matter infinitely to an infinite God. The incarnation is God’s way of saying, “I see you, I know you, and you are worth everything to me.”

When we celebrate Christmas, we’re celebrating the God who gets personal, who calls us by name, who notices. And we’re invited to reflect that same attentiveness to those He has placed in our life.

This season, instead of hunting for the perfect limited-edition gift, become present to the limited-edition people already in your life. Speak words that remind them of who they are. Celebrate their uniqueness. Let them know they’re seen, they’re valued, they are loved by you.

After all, every person you encounter is tagged with the truest label of all: Fearfully and wonderfully made. Image-bearer of God. One of a kind.

That’s not marketing. That’s truth. And it’s the best gift we can give each other this Christmas – to be reminded that we’re each irreplaceable, each loved beyond measure, each a special edition in God’s eyes.

Why do we do what we do

Why do we do what we do

Why do we do what we do?

That’s a great question, isn’t it?! You might ask me, why do you celebrate the Dodgers winning the World Series when you’ve never lived in Los Angeles? Truth be told, I like watching baseball, but I’d much rather watch football or hockey. So why was I jumping off the couch when they won? The answer is simple and profound: Dodgers baseball reminds me of my grandparents.

Summer evenings spent at their house were punctuated by the cadence of baseball announcers, the background noise to our evenings. Those magical nights when the Dodgers were playing meant we got to eat dinner on TV trays in the living room, right in front of the television. A piping hot Salisbury steak TV dinner paired with an ice-cold ginger ale was pure childhood bliss. Players like Steve Garvey, Orel Hershiser, and Fernando Valenzuela were household names to me.

So when the Dodgers won the World Series a few weeks ago, my first instinct was to reach for the phone. I wanted to call my grandma and relive every moment, every play, every emotion just like we used to. The ache of not being able to make that call reminded me of something important: I don’t cheer for the Dodgers because of the city or even the sport. I cheer because every game is a way to keep my grandparents close, to honor their memory, and to hold onto those precious summer nights that shaped who I am.

This is the power of tradition. What started as simple summer evenings watching baseball became something far more meaningful. It’s a thread that connects me across time to the people I love. Family traditions, even seemingly small ones, play a remarkable role in shaping who we become and how we understand our place in the world.

Think about it this way: traditions are the stories we tell without words. When I cheer for the Dodgers, I’m not just rooting for a baseball team, I’m honoring my grandparents. I’m remembering the love they showed me. I’m keeping their memory alive in a tangible and joyful way.  When I share these stories with my own children, I am passing along more than just a team preference, I am sharing a small piece of their heritage.

The beautiful thing about traditions is that they don’t have to be elaborate or expensive to be meaningful. I think that consistency matters more than complexity. Whether it’s Sunday morning pancakes, annual holiday traditions, or yes, even rooting for a particular sports team, what makes traditions powerful is their predictability and the emotional connection they foster. Traditions become the moments we can count on when everything else feels uncertain.

Traditions also serve as bridges between generations. When we carry forward the practices of those who came before us, we’re honoring their lives and values. We’re saying, “You mattered, what you cared about matters, I remember.” This act of remembering is itself a profound gift, both to those who’ve gone before us and to those who will come after. It’s how we leave a positive legacy.

But here’s what’s really exciting: we’re not just recipients of tradition, we’re also creators of it. Every choice we make about what to celebrate, what to prioritize, and what to repeat is potentially laying the groundwork for future generations. The traditions we start today might be the cherished memories our grandchildren hold onto decades from now. What an incredible opportunity that is!

Maybe you have your own version of my Dodgers story. Maybe it’s your dad’s chili recipe that you make every autumn, or the way your family always watches a particular movie together during the holidays, or how you call your mom every Sunday morning. These aren’t just habits, they’re the building blocks of legacy. They’re the answer to “why do we do what we do?”

Traditions matter because love matters. Connection matters. Memories matter. When we honor the traditions passed down to us and create new ones for those who follow, we’re participating in something timeless. 

So the next time you find yourself doing something that might seem a little quirky to others, like celebrating a sports team you have no geographic reason to support, remember that you’re not being irrational, you’re being human. You’re honoring your story. You’re also building a bridge between past and future. And that’s not just important, I think it is beautiful! This holiday season, enjoy your own family traditions and maybe this is the year you start a brand new one.  Who knows, years from now, your grandchildren might be asking themselves, why do we do that?!