Sometimes I have a day that just rocks.

Case in point: Thursday. The day Donald Miller came to campus. The day I got to hang out with Donald Miller. The day I introduced Donald Miller, as if we were bffs, to a sold-out crowd. The day Donald Miller and I talked about coffee together. The day Donald Miller spoke in chapel and made a joke about God taking a shower and I was all, "Oh, Donny, you are such a funny boy," in my head to myself. 

So, anyway, my job has its perks. 

I read Blue Like Jazz about ten years ago and it changed me. It's one of those books that says what you are thinking but in a much better way than you could ever say it. And at the end of it you're equal parts mad that you didn't write it yourself and inspired to write your own thing.

Then I read this,

 and this,

 and this, 

 and I'm about to read this. (It's available for preorder on Amazon. It's a man's perspective on struggling with intimacy.)

The week leading up to his visit I was a maniac. I think my coworkers were scared. I didn't care. I sat in his chair and pretended to be him multiple times to make sure the lighting and sound and chairs and tables and coffee were nothing less than perfect. 

I refuse to take selfies unless it's really late at night, I'm going on 16 straight hours of work, I'm delirious, and Donald Miller has just full-on hugged me.

 This was a bucket-list day for me. 

If you haven't read a Donald Miller yet, do it as soon as possible. This post will make a lot more sense afterwards, I assure you.

An Autobiography in Five Short Paragraphs

Chapter I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

 Chapter III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in... it's a habit... but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

 Chapter IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter V

I walk down another street.

- Portia Nelson

One of my graduate professors gave this to us on our first day in his class. I now give it to my students and clients. Life would be much easier if we could just skip chapters 2-4. But, I've learned that getting to chapter five looks different for everyone and sometimes it's those middle chapters that teach us the most.

I almost can't handle how cute this is.

Happy New Year!

My first image of 2015: 

It's so thoughtful of the kids to go ahead and be upfront about what I can expect from them in the coming year.  No illusions here. 

From our dysfunctional family to yours, may 2015 bring you peace in the midst of utter chaos.