When the number on the cell phone doesn’t have a familiar name attached, I always let it go to voicemail. I figure if it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail. I suspect most people do the same. Today, however, I took a chance when the unrecognized number said it was from “Alabama.” My gamble paid off. On the other end of the line was my old, dear friend and co-worker HFNMI.

“NMI” stands for “No Middle Initial.” For as long as I have known him, he always signed his name with NMI. I’ve only seen or spoke to NMI once in the last 19 years. We exchanged Christmas cards for years. He would sign his “Merry Christmas HF NMI.” I would sign mine “Hope all is well with you and yours, War Eagle!” HFNMI is a lifelong Auburn Tiger Football fan.

One of my favorite stories (among many) of NMI was the day a tornado tore through his property, destroying an outbuilding. You may think that was the bad part of the story. But for NMI the bad part happened when the tornado took out his TV antenna and he called me to get a real time description of the Alabama/Auburn Iron Bowl game. He was far more upset by the Tide coming back to edge the Tigers than he was towards his property damage.

I can still hear his voice asking me what was happening. While I was relating the action, he said so matter of fact, “There goes the wall of the outbuilding.” I asked him if he should go assess the damage and he said, “I can’t do anything about it now, just let me know what’s going on at Legion Field.”

HFNMI was one of my first mentors. It didn’t matter I was his supervisor. He was always willing to teach and help me with his southern style, grace and experience. We worked together four short years over 40 years ago. I wrote about HFNMI in my book “Jewels in Your Crown – Mining the Treasures Within.” He was a sterling example of what it means to be a co-worker and a teammate.

HFNMI has always been a giving person. On our call he related some good fortune he had at a Mississippi Casino. He shared his winnings by tipping three people who were involved at his table. His buddy who was a recipient of HFNMI’s windfall said the player to his left was astonished by his generosity. He said the guy was as happy as if he had actually been the winner. That’s HFNMI.

We covered a great deal of ground during that phone call. Too many of our former co-workers have passed away or are in poor health. That includes HFNMI. He’s had health issues and is facing more. I told him I would certainly put him in my prayers.

As we closed the conversation, I asked him where those 40 years had gone, but neither of us could figure that out. Just life I guess. The beautiful part of the conversation was that we picked up right where we left off. It was as if time had stood still.

I guess that’s the beauty of a true friendship. No judgments. No critical questions, just a caring attitude and a pledge to stay in touch.

I know you all don’t know HFNMI, but as you say your prayers tonight, put him in there with the rest of your joys and concerns. He’s the kind of guy you’d want as your neighbor. I’m blessed to call him my friend.

Until next time…

When seasons change I often get reflective. Sometime melancholy. Changing seasons remind me of time gone by. Of what might have been. I recall Sophomore English teacher Mrs. Davis. She was a bright, witty lady who implored us to read “If I were 17 again” by Jesse Stuart. It was a classic piece by Stuart and means more to me now, than way back then.

This year has been a quick one. Like a roll of toilet paper the years always seem to go faster the closer you get to the end. I’m a long way from “the end” but you never know.

With the price of everything skyrocketing and with crime rising all across the country, I can see how one might become depressed rather quickly.

I still feel blessed to live where I live. Despite his many challenges, my 93 year old dad says he “feels free as a bird” and I guess living in America can do that for you. I do believe people don’t know how good they have it until they go somewhere else or speak to someone who has come to America from somewhere else.

Someday, I’d like to traverse the entire distance on Interstate 80 or old Route 66. I’d feel safe to do so and I think I’d be welcome at every town and city across America. One cannot make that claim in every country in the world.

With everything that is going wrong in the United States my remarks probably sound naive. Believe me, I’m far from naive or gullible. The challenges we face as a country are enormous. They appear to be growing daily. One doesn’t know what to believe or who to believe.

I choose to believe what makes sense. I go with my gut feelings. Most importantly I put my faith in the Almighty and know that his leadership, guidance and plan is the one we all need to be following.

Enjoy the change of seasons. It happens in the blink of an eye. Kind of like life. But keep your eyes wide open and relish what lies ahead.

Until next time…

Recently, I’ve been involved with a cell phone company and a national shipper. Unfortunately, not by choice. I’m being kind when I share it’s been a painful process. Hours spent on the phone. Misinformation, which I relied upon, flowing regularly. I was able to get to the true facts by putting two humans on the phone at the same time. This totally eliminated a “he said – she said” finger pointing scenario. The issue, to this point, has still not been resolved. I’m trying to remain optimistic that it will be.

As I spoke to each call center employee. (so far seven to-date) I would repeat the same information over and over. Each time I gave my email address I’d get a comment. The most popular response was “do you sell jewelry?” Then I’d explain what the “Jewels in Your crown” philosophy was all about. Every person seemed intrigued with my description. They wanted to know more. Understanding that a call center employee is rated and judged by how quickly they handle a call I told them to check out my website.

As I reflect on my exasperating experience, I draw comfort knowing I may be educating people on the importance of developing others. They may be trapped in a corporate world tied to strict process, but they were still interested in learning about developing themselves and others.

Communication is vital to any and every relationship. What you say, how you say it, when you say it and to whom you are communicating are all critical components to effective communication. I’m very much aware these fine people handle hundreds of calls a day. I could tell by the background noise they appeared to work from home. The employees I spoke with knew what to say. I suspect words were written on their computer screen. The problem was they didn’t know me.

One person knew the circumstances because they took the time to ask me. They knew their processes weren’t ideal and they wanted to resolve the issue. One of seven isn’t a great batting average. I realize I’m not the only customer this conglomerate and national shipper deal with daily. I’m not asking for special treatment and I certainly didn’t receive it.

What did this experience teach me?

• I need more patience
• Corporations don’t care if they lose customers
• Cell phone companies are the utility companies of this century. Can’t live without them and they know it.
• My dear departed friend Frank was right, you need to learn to breath through your nose with things go haywire.

I had put this blog post aside for a few weeks. It helped me to cool off and to place things in proper perspective. In case you’re wondering, the situation was not resolved. But as I wrote above, I did learn a great deal about myself and the landscape of the business world in this century.

I’m not changing my expectations to meet the service levels of the corporate world. However, I will be changing my approach. I made a difference with one person and that is what I will continue to do. Make a difference with one person and see if I can change a culture gone haywire.

Margaret Mead said “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Until next time…

We love to celebrate in America. We have the opportunity to celebrate well over 100 people or things throughout the year. Everything from New Year’s Day to New Year’s Eve. The second Sunday in May we celebrate mothers. The third Sunday in June we celebrate fathers. We have days for grandparents, mother-in-laws, sweethearts and pets. Is it overkill? Probably. At the same time, if bringing focus to an event, person or thing helps raise awareness and shine a light on it, maybe that’s not so bad either.

Earlier this month I received a touching text from my son on Father’s Day. It helped me reflect on my own father. My dad worked for 50 years. He’s been retired for 27. He was the main bread-winner helping to raise five kids. He was consistent, solid, dependable and hard-working at his profession. Despite his leadership roles throughout his career, I’d classify him as an introvert.

He was usually available to play catch after work, but I don’t remember him being in the bleachers during sporting events. Mostly because he was working. When I was a teenager, golf became the sport that connected us. Despite his current physical condition, that connection remains today.

We didn’t have deep discussions on world events, politics, religion or issues of the day, like civil rights. My most vivid memories of my dad revolved around how he handled his tough times and adversity.

The first memory was when he lost his job after more than two decades and numerous awards. We had returned from a little league game where my team had lost by a large margin. My mom was in the kitchen crying and my dad was in the shower singing. I said to my mom, “Why are you crying, we have lost by worst scores than tonight.” At that remark she burst into sobs and told me about my dad’s debacle. The fact that my dad was singing in the shower gave me comfort. His resolve proved correct as he was employed quickly after we enjoyed a vacation to Texas.

Another strong memory occurred following the death of his father. I had been with my grandfather a few days before he passed. I was alone with him and he wanted some whiskey to help with his cough. I called my dad and he calmly said, “Give him whatever he wants.”

A few days later my dad was called to his parents home as his dad passed away about 4 a.m. As the sun was coming up, I drove my mom to her in-law’s home. The black hearse was backed into the driveway. It was Halloween morning and the macabre scene was not lost on my senses. An hour later I was about to head for school when my dad returned home. Once again he got in the shower and got ready for his day. No words were spoken and no tears fell. I didn’t take his lack of emotion as a negative. I took it as an enormous strength.

By now, you may be wondering why I’m sharing these memories of my dad. I’m doing so for several reasons. I’m not like my dad. That’s not a good or bad thing. We are two different people and we always have been. We moved several times as I was growing up. Some might be upset or have resentment to attending six different grade schools. However, I believe that shaped me as much as anything. I was forced to make friends and be a joiner.

I don’t regret not having deep conversations. I learned as much by watching him. Observing how he didn’t judge others. Instead he lifted people up and tried to understand and see the best in them. He has always loved to laugh and I’m grateful to say that trait has rubbed off on me.

We don’t see eye-to-eye on everything. That makes me very pleased as well. I wouldn’t want to be exactly like him and he is likely glad I’m my own man.

My son and I are not the same either. Like me, he is his own man. He is intelligent, humble, a tireless worker, creative and his attention to detail is second to none. I have told him he has been successful despite the 18 years he spent with me.

It seems to me a father and a son can be a microcosm of any relationship. You might look like someone, but that may be where the similarities end. And if the similarities are few in any relationship then you must figure out how to make that relationship fruitful and successful. One must be able to do as my dad has done, not judge, but find the goodness in people.

Finding what we agree on instead of what divides us is something the world needs to do. Cutting through the weeds to get to the fruit is challenging, but worth the effort.

I have a very dear friend whose pigmentation is different from mine. His upbringing and career were starkly different from mine. We don’t think alike on every ideology and issue. But the respect and admiration we have for one another makes our relationship rich and fulfilling. I’m blessed to have this relationship.

I’m also blessed to still have relationships with my father and son. Not everyone is as fortunate as I am when it comes to having a legacy and watching it grow despite distance and differences in our lives.

Until next time…

Twenty-three years ago I was in Denver, Colorado. Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris were in Littleton, Colorado. On April 20, they killed 13 innocent people and 24 others were wounded. Those Columbine High School Seniors, those who survived, are now in their 40’s.

Politicians railed against this senseless tragedy. But little has changed.

Mass shootings slowed to one a year for the next two years. Then zero in 2002 and one each in 2003 and 2004. From 2011 to 2019 there were 65 mass shootings. Since 2013, a mass shooting has been defined by Congress as murder of three or more people in a location close to one another.

I think about the victims of the Columbine mass shooting every April. I wonder how life has turned out for the survivors and the families of the victims. Frankly, I can’t imagine the challenges they have faced. The loss, the trauma, the memories.

I only knew one family personally involved. Their child survived. They were blessed and fortunate.

As of last year I now know a relative involved in a shooting. It couldn’t be defined as a mass shooting because only two people died. There were other victims who survived, including my relative. They are each dealing with physical recovery as well as PTSD in one form or another.

No one can put themselves in the shoes of a survivor. Whether it’s a mass shooting or someone dealing with PTSD as a result of service through law enforcement, first responders or the Military. Cliches like “You are blessed to be alive,” “It just takes time,” “You just have to tough it out,” “You need more faith,” not only do not help, they are detrimental to the mind of the individual.

Every survivor has a different road to travel. They need time, space, patience, understanding and a listening ear.

In my effort to better understand I was made aware of a book by Sgt Q entitled “Healing thru Service.”

It was written for veterans dealing with PTSD, but the principles and key points are applicable to anyone dealing with trauma, drama and anxieties in their lives. I’d strongly recommend reading this book. It would be a worthwhile investment of time to anyone dealing with anxiety or PTSD. Or for anyone who knows someone who has gone through a life-changing stressful situation.

Stress of a hundred types seems to surround us daily. We should be looking for answers to deal with stress.= of all kinds.

Over the years I’ve given many talks on Servant Leadership. Service can be an enormous healing mechanism. If you don’t know Damon West, check him out. He’d agree with me. I’d also recommend a plethora of scripture as it relates to healing and service. Particularly Chapter six in the book of Ephesians.

There are so many ways to help others deal with stress and anxiety. Taking the first step down that path to healing is always the most challenging. But that is where the journey to not only surviving but thriving begins.

Until next time…

Good morning. That’s the question I’ve been getting. I haven’t been hiding. I’ve been trying to decide what to write about. The world has not been conducive to positive messages lately.

Roaring inflation. Skyrocketing gas prices. Rising crime rates. Crisis at the Southern border and now a war in Ukraine. It was actually events in Ukraine that became my tipping point. The images from the war, the carnage and devastation are beyond my comprehension. The entire situation seems so hopeless. But the people of Ukraine are proving that not to be true. Their courage, resolve and perseverance has inspired the world. A silver lining in this horrible cloud of despair, death and destruction has been the migration of Ukrainian Christians west into other countries. The welcoming response from Poland, Hungary, Moldova, Slovakia and even Germany has been overwhelming. This spread of Christian beliefs and values to the west is counter to what Putin likely had in mind when he invaded Ukraine.

From the United States, Christian organizations such as Samaritan’s Purse and ReachGlobal are stepping up, as they regularly do, to provide medical and financial support. My research indicates both of these organizations have low administrative costs, thereby providing a larger percentage received to the needs of the people of Ukraine.

How long will this continue is something I don’t have a guess on. But the resolve of the world is led by the resolve of the people of Ukraine. Unlike the Afghan people, the people of Ukraine, are showing what it means to fight for what they believe. It certainly makes me question myself. Would I have the same courage, conviction and resolve to fight for my freedom, my values, my beliefs?

We all would be wise to pause and ask these questions. Things are bad here in America, but nothing compares to what is happening in Ukraine. Despite the price increases in everything, the supply chain problems and so many other things we face every day we are blessed.

Every spring we have this gorgeous renewal of color and life. We need to take this renewal to the next level. We need to stand up for what we believe just as our brothers and sisters in Ukraine are doing every day.

Until next time…

I’ve been on the road the last several weeks. Thought it might be a good time to report back in. 

During a particular presentation I’ve given in the past I would tell my audience the only constant is “change.”  That is still true today. Having said that, my travels reminded me of a few other things that are constant, reliable, predictable, and for me – comforting.

The Rocky Mountains are just as majestic and awe inspiring in 2021 as they were three years ago when I last saw them. As a matter of fact, they are as breathtaking as they were more than 25 years ago when I first saw them. Their sheer size reminds me of how small I am on this planet. I never take their grandeur for granted and always feel a bit of sadness when they disappear in my rearview mirror.

Cornfields and bean fields in the Midwest continue to paint the landscape green every summer.  Despite the hardships farmers face – be it weather, pests or demand – their fields always produce in the summer months.  In my opinion, farmers are under appreciated.  They feed the country and the world year after year. Driving on county roads gives an appreciation of what a farmer does and the beauty of their work.  Seeing those same fields from the air gives an artistic perspective of the patchwork quilt they create and cultivate every year.

Mark Twain once said,

“The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”

That quote reminded me of driving through the country on the 4^th of July looking for fireworks shows across the prairie horizon.  We were actually flabbergasted by the number of displays exploding across the sky.  As we admired the show above we were also treated to a spectacle of hundreds of fireflies across the fields.  It was as if they were letting us know a firework and a firefly can provide two different, yet enchanting displays, for our personal enjoyment.  Two more constants.

So what’s the point?

Mountains, prairies, fireworks and fireflies. Despite everything this country and the world has been going through these things persist.  Oh I’m sure you can think of many more examples.  Just wanted to share what touched my heart and head in my recent travels. 

It’s that predictable, consistent, comforting feeling we long for when the world seems to be going haywire.  We want to know the mountains are still standing majestically.  We feel comfort the prairies are consistently yielding crops and the fireflies still light up a summer night.

 The fireworks?  The fireworks remind me of the freedoms we have as Americans.  As they transform the sky they illustrate the beacon we must be for one another.   You cannot light a path for someone else without brightening your own way. 

As Americans, we should be reliable like the crops and the farmers who grow them.  We should be steadfast and strong like the mountains.  My friend Buck impressed upon me years ago to say what I mean, mean what I say and walk my talk at all times.    We should expect this of one another and especially of our leaders.  As I have said before we need to ask the hard questions, seek the truth and be courageous in the pursuit of it.

Until next time…

I had the good fortune to receive a text message this morning from my longest, dearest, and most faithful friend. Within the text message was a devotion from Pastor Paul Tripp. The timing of the text and devotion were not lost on me. I don’t think I’ve ever shared a devotion, but this one seems to capture the essence of our world. It also asks a very meaningful question. A question we would all be encouraged to ponder and pray about today.

“If you mourn the fallenness of your world rather than curse its difficulties, you know that grace has visited you. Life in this terribly broken world is hard. You are constantly dealing with the frustration of this world not operating the way God intended. You are always facing the unexpected. Almost daily you are required to deal with something you wouldn’t have chosen for your life, but it’s there because of the location where we live.

Life right here, right now is like living in a disheveled house that has begun to fall down on its own foundation. It is still a house, but it doesn’t function as it was meant to. The doors constantly get stuck shut. The plumbing only occasionally works properly. You are never sure what’s going to happen when you plug an appliance in, and it seems that the roof leaks even when it’s not raining. So it is with the world that you and I live in. It really is a broken-down house. Now, there are really only two responses we can have to the brokenness that complicates all of our lives: cursing or mourning.

Let’s be honest. Cursing is the more natural response. We curse the fact that we have to deal with flawed people. We curse the fact that we have to deal with things that don’t work right. We curse the fact that we have to deal with pollution and disease. We curse the fact that promises get broken, relationships shatter, and dreams die. We curse the realities of pain and suffering. We curse the fact that this broken-down world has been assigned to be the address where we live.

It all makes us irritated, impatient, bitter, angry, and discontent. Yes, it’s right not to like these things. It’s natural to find them frustrating, because as Paul says in Romans 8, the whole world groans as it waits for redemption. But cursing is the wrong response. We curse what we have to deal with because it makes our lives harder than we want them to be. Cursing is all about our comfort, our pleasure, our ease. Cursing is fundamentally self-centered.

Mourning is the much better response. Mourning embraces the tragedy of the fall. Mourning acknowledges that the world is not the way God meant it to be. Mourning cries out for God’s redeeming, restoring hand. Mourning acknowledges the suffering of others. Mourning is about something bigger than the fact that life is hard. Mourning grieves what sin has done to the cosmos and longs for the Redeemer to come and make his broken world new again. Mourning, then, is a response that is prompted by grace. This side of eternity in this broken world, cursing is the default language of the kingdom of self, but mourning is the default language of the kingdom of God.

Which language will you speak today?“

Pastor Tripp references Romans 8 in the devotion. I’d also recommend Romans 12. The chapter is only 21 verses. It provides Paul’s guidance on living with and relating to one another in this broken, imperfect world.

My hope for this country and this world springs eternal. The camellia bushes continue to bloom in the front yard and the dogwoods and azaleas are beginning to bud. All signs of renewal. Signs, to me, that this broken world can be a beautiful place.

We need one another. Mercy, grace, forgiveness, humility, empathy, compassion are all words to live by. They may be aspirational words, but I believe they are all words which will bring us all closer together. Learning to understand one another’s differences and accepting those differences is the first step.

Until next time…

W. Mitchell taught me a long time ago, “It’s not what happens to you, it’s what you do about it.” You can lament about all that is wrong with your life or you can do something about it. The choice is up to you. Simple, yet quite challenging. If you don’t know about W. Mitchell, I’d recommend reading “The Man Who Would Not Be Defeated.”

There are literally hundreds of stories around the globe of people overcoming huge obstacles in their lives. These stories inspire and encourage me. On a smaller scale we all face daily hurdles. It may be something we said, things we believe or decisions we make. Our words or actions may get twisted or misinterpreted from our initial intent.

It seems to me, society the last forty years, has evolved to address hurdles. Not necessarily in a good way.

Janis Ian spoke of hurdles she faced as a teenager when she wrote and sang:

“To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me”

That ballad was 46 years ago. It garnered her two Grammys for song and album of the year. After her teen years, Janis overcame many hurdles in her life. She has survived spousal abuse. She epitomizes the W. Mitchell quote. Janis is happily married, continues to perform, and turned 70 recently.

I don’t blame Ralph Macchio or the movie the Karate Kid. Many attribute the movie for the movement to “Participation Trophies.” That movement was supposed to increase the self-esteem of inner city youth in California. There is no hard evidence that it increased self-esteem. I contend it caused additional parental pressure on children to participate in sports they may have had no desire to play. It did however, turn the trophy manufacturing business into a two billion dollar industry.

This leads to the question, who or what has caused this shift away from tough love and personal accountability to lowering or eliminating high and low hurdles?

A) Parents

B) Siblings

C) Teachers

D) Social Media Apps and Technology

E) All of the above

I’ll select “E.” Although I contend “D” is likely the most prominent culprit. An enormous amount of people rely on cell phones and social media apps for their identity and their existence. Some hide behind their usernames. They appear to avoid what is hard by communicating only through an app. Unfortunately, their best friend seems to be their cell phone.

Janis Ian was right, people do want to belong. Belong to some thing. A club, a clique, a team, a troop or any other organization you may know. Social is vitally important to human beings. Frankly, even more important to young people. This is one reason why “Zoom Education” has been detrimental to young people. And why it is critical to get kids back in school.

Social Media has accentuated the desire for people to celebrate themselves. Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, Weibo, Twitter, just to name a few. All these platforms allow individuals to feel good about themselves.

At least until “cancel culture” rears its ugly head. It’s at that point, the mob takes over. Seems like someone always is watching and waiting for any kind of a misstep. Intentional or unintentional error is irrelevant.

I see three choices to handling cancel culture.

1. Walk on eggshells
2. Stay quiet and be coddled
3. Stand up to the bullies.

I’ve always felt number three was the best way to handle bullies. Growing up, I was always on the smaller side. This forced me to learn how to deal with bullies. I wasn’t always successful, but I earned respect to go with a few bruises.

Dennis Prager has said, “People yearn to be taken care of.” As a matter of fact, if given a choice, they would rather be taken care of than to be free.

This is a scary commentary for our future.

Where do we go from here?

I believe the majority of people will do the right thing. I don’t buy into the ‘squeaky wheel’ syndrome. The ‘squeaky wheel’ is synonymous with social media to me. If they make enough noise we think it’s a real problem. The problem lies within listening to the squeak. Use your personal tribulum to separate the wheat from the chaff. Focus on the main thing. Build relationships with people who are different than you.

I will continue to seek and speak the truth. I will care enough about a situation or individual to confront injustice with forthright grace. I’ll honor the courage of my values and convictions. I’ll apply the “Golden Rule” daily. Personal accountability starts with me.

I have many more questions in my bucket. But Spring is around the corner and the ‘ugly duckling’ floating on the lake has become a swan. The dock is calling my name. I’ll go watch grace in action and pull some more questions out of my bucket another day.

Until next time…

As I wrote last month, I’m working diligently to seek the truth. I know it’s in the Bible, but where else might I find it? There are hundreds of sources at our fingertips. For example, platforms, websites, apps, programs, articles, columns, books, and so many authors and pundits spreading their views for all to absorb.

Who do you follow? What do you believe? Who do you trust?

I’ve been told my sources and resources are not necessarily the best. I’m not sure why. I suspect it’s because the sources I use aren’t being relied upon by anyone who might disagree with me.

The worst part of this debate is when two people disagree and I am one of those two, then I am wrong. Or even worse I am a liar. How can you be a liar for believing a source? I may be wrong, nevertheless, I’m not a liar. And I’m also not in a mental state where I need to be deprogrammed or reprogrammed.

The age old adage “There are two sides to every story” is the bottom line here. As Americans, we need to be able to have a discussion and share both sides of a discussion, debate, or disagreement.

I want to know how I am wrong and to understand why what I call facts are considered theory by those who disagree with me.

In a recent interview, Senator Rand Paul shared this when challenged on his views about the 2020 election:

“I won’t be cowed by liberals in the media who say there’s no evidence here and you’re a liar if you talk about election fraud,” he continued. “Let’s have an open debate this is a free country.”

As it relates to me, the words “liberals in the media” could be exchanged with the word “anyone.”

Reading and writing is something I enjoy doing. It involves researching the many sources I mentioned above. I want to know my sources are truthful, factual and reliable. Someone needs to prove to me that people like Thomas Sowell, John Solomon, Dinesh D’Souza and Mark Levin are not good sources of information. I believe they are.

I said I was going to seek the truth in 2021. It will be a challenge. Too many are trying to shutdown the other side of the story. Like Senator Paul said, “Let’s have an open debate this is a free country.”

We need to be civil, respectful and open to hearing one another’s views, regardless of the topic.

Until next time…