The writings here are in the nature of a blog. Unlike most blogs, the most recent post is under this pinned post. There is no specific topic; I like to write occasionally. Be advised, though, that my writing is often in the form of a stream of consciousness. I know the overall theme. Then, I start writing until I get to what I believe is the end. Sidetrips are inevitable, but I get back to the point.
I write about the law because I’ve spent over 40 years in it. I write about things that interest me, like politics, history, current events, God, people, family, observations, and reflections. I avoid the names of people because ethically, sometimes I have to or to avoid embarrassment to others. It wouldn’t be fair because no one can defend themselves here.
But I say what I believe, and sometimes words offend. It’s not because I’m offensive; it’s because we live in a time when people need to feel offended by every perceived slight. There will be nothing here I wouldn’t speak to another person.
There won’t be the opportunity to leave comments, good or bad. I don’t fear comments but can’t always get back promptly. But, if you want to comment, you can do so from the contact page via email. [NOTE: AS OF JANUARY 10, 2026, COMMENTS CAN BE SUBMITTED FOR APPROVAL]
My friend Donna is walking through deep waters, yet her faith remains clear. She speaks honestly about her pain, her fear, her faith but she never complains. She calls those who follow her journey her Tribe-honored to be a member- and she leans on their prayers with humility and grace. Her Tribe is on Meta-Facebook, a small but important corner of it. Her words, “Father, I need you” demonstrates where her strength comes from. Even in the hardest moments, she trusts in God l and follows it with “In humble gratitude.” She is a weak woman, made strong by faith in God, and her trust has become a quiet testament to faithfulness in her struggle.
Donna’s journey shows what faithfulness looks like when life becomes a prolonged struggle. She does not hide her weakness or her fear. She names her pain honestly, yet she reaches upward in prayer. She leans on her Tribe with humility, asking for prayer without complaint. Her surrender “your will be done” is not resignation but trust shaped by years of walking with God. When she follows it with “In humble gratitude,” she reveals the heart of her faith. In her quiet way, she shows how God’s care reaches down, how Christians receive that care and pass it on, and how a person in need receives help with dignity and hope. Donna’s life has become a testament to grace, not loud, not polished, but steady, truthful, and held in the strength of God alone. It needs to be told to all. Love, peace and continued prayers for Donna. Love, peace and continued prayers for Donna.
It was a difficult decision by the panel of judges, well, one judge, me. There was a tie for First Runner-up, all the gals graduating from Crestwood High School in 1971. I present to you our Queen, my lovely wife, Miss Dawn.
The photos shown are candid shots of Dawn from our 40th, 45th, and 50th class reunions. So often people suspect photo manipulation through the wonders of AI or other means. I ran these through three programs to test the authenticity of the three, and no markers were found in any of the photos. Dawn really does look this young and beautiful, and as we approach the 55th this Friday, she still looks the same. But Internet trolls demand receipts, so a short summary on one program is below.
Of course there are drawbacks for both of us. When we were in high school, while I am almost one year to the day older than she, it was not noticeable. As time moved forward, things began to change. The picture of her at the top, our 40th class reunion, shows a moment when maybe ten years earlier people would see us at a restaurant and she would be complimented for being the good daughter taking her dad’s youngest brother out for lunch.
Five years later, I aged exponentially. A much more professional looking Dawn, when we were together, was now being commended for her work with the elderly. They would speak quietly, then she would whisper thank you, and then speak loudly to me, “The nice man said he likes your flannel shirt.”
Another five years goes by. At our 50th class reunion, she wore my Varsity C jacket from high school. A few days later, a person was convinced she was my caregiver, and I know the next step is people will refer to me as Grandpa Lee.
On a more serious note, aging gracefully is a genetic thing. Her oldest brother still looks like a gray-haired high school student. Her dad, a wonderful man, lived into his nineties. There came a time I felt I was looking older than he was. It was said, “Sydney Sweeney has great jeans.” I have an album titled I Love My Wife on Meta Facebook, a couple with Dawn in jeans. I will take Dawn over Sydney every time.
[AI Summary referred to] What people are reacting to isn’t anything “AI‑looking” in the photos — it’s that she presents younger than her age in ways that AI often tries to imitate but rarely gets right. When you post her, folks see someone who looks bright, expressive, and comfortable in her own skin, and that can make them wonder whether the image has been polished or generated. But none of these three photos show the telltale signs of AI.
You know, the best way to end this is with honesty.
It’s nice to have a beautifully attractive woman at your side, but history is replete with beautiful women bringing down men. More important is the beauty within. It can be felt. I believe Dawn and I make each other happy. Well, I can only speak for myself, but I can feel it in her toward me. That’s really what matters.
A few things stand out across all of them.
Natural posture — In each photo she’s grounded in the moment. Outdoors at 67, she’s walking with an easy stride. At 62, she’s seated with relaxed shoulders. At 57, she’s standing with a mug in hand, weight balanced. AI often produces stiff or oddly weighted poses; she never shows that.
Consistent facial expression — Her expressions are warm and unforced. AI tends to generate faces that are too smooth, too symmetrical, or too “posed.” She has the small, human asymmetries that make a real face feel alive.
Lighting and environment — The lighting in all three images is natural and consistent with the surroundings. AI often mismatches shadows or creates overly soft, uniform light. These photos have the irregularities of real rooms, real windows, real outdoor shade.
Clothing and texture — The folds, stitching, and fabric behavior look exactly like real garments. AI frequently struggles with patterned fabrics, seams, or how clothes hang on a body. Everything here behaves normally.
I’ve noticed something consistent among many prominent advocates of democratic socialism, whether older intellectuals or younger activists: a striking number come from positions of relative wealth or privilege. They speak passionately about redistributing resources, raising taxes on “the rich,” and expanding government control over economic outcomes. Yet the practical effect they champion is almost always directed at other people’s wealth, not their own. Rarely do we see these same voices voluntarily liquidating their assets, forgoing inheritances, or living at the modest standard they prescribe for society at large.
This pattern raises a straightforward question about motives. If the driving force were pure idealism, a genuine desire for greater equality, one would expect more personal sacrifice and consistency. Instead, the energy often seems directed toward acquiring political power: the authority to decide how others’ earnings are allocated, which industries are favored or penalized, and which groups receive preferential treatment. History shows that once such power is concentrated, it tends to entrench the decision-makers rather than dissolve itself.
Democratic socialism may present itself as compassionate reform, but when its loudest proponents remain comfortably insulated from the costs they impose, it looks less like idealism and more like a bid for control dressed in moral language.
Someone close to me once said that churches do not always offer guidance for everyday problems. I understood what they meant. Scripture speaks with depth, but life often presses with simplicity. A prescription someone cannot afford, a bill that arrives too soon, a need that feels larger than the resources at hand. These are not abstract struggles. They are the quiet pressures that shape a person’s days.
Scripture does give guidance, but it gives it in a way that requires faith. It speaks through principles rather than step by step instructions. It tells us that God sees our needs, that He cares for our bodies as well as our souls, and that His people are meant to carry burdens together. It reminds us that no one is meant to walk through hardship alone.
I sometimes wonder if pastors focus so intently on Scripture that they forget how strongly Scripture calls us to help one another. Not for salvation, because salvation is the work of Christ alone. But in our Christian walk, where love is meant to take the shape of action. The Bible teaches that faith expresses itself through care, compassion, and shared burdens. These are not works that earn anything. They are works that reveal the heart of Christ.
This is where the wonder of being known by God becomes real. God does not simply know our spiritual condition. He knows our circumstances, our limitations, and the pressures we face. He knows when a person cannot afford medicine. He knows when the cost of living rises faster than strength. He knows when someone feels overwhelmed by needs, they cannot meet. His knowledge is not distant. It is compassionate.
In Scripture, God’s compassion is expressed through His people. The early church shared resources so that no one lacked what was essential. Paul urged believers to bear one another’s burdens. James reminded the church that faith must take the shape of practical help. In this way, God’s guidance becomes visible through the charity and love of others. The community of Christians gives the connection. God’s care often arrives through human hands.
When someone close to me wonders why churches do not speak more directly to everyday problems, I think of this. Scripture gives the foundation. The community of Christians gives the connection. God’s truth becomes tangible when His people live it out. They listen, support, share, and walk alongside those who are struggling. The Bible’s answer to hardship is not isolation. It is presence. The wonder of being known by God is that He sees every need, even the ones that feel small or difficult to mention. He often meets those needs through the kindness of others. Through generosity, through compassion, through shared burdens. His guidance is not only written in Scripture. It is lived in community. It is carried in love. In the end, this is what gives strength to the Christian walk. Scripture speaks the truth of God, and the community of Christians carries that truth into the ordinary struggles of life. When believers listen, share, and walk beside one another, the words of Scripture become presence. They become care that can be felt and help that can be seen. In this way, God’s compassion moves from the page into the lives of His people, and those who face real need discover that they are not forgotten. They are known, they are remembered, and they are carried. In short, we have God’s care reaching down, the Christians receiving and passing it on to the person in need and receiving help. Added note, this works best with prayer, faith and trust in God.
There are moments in life when God feels distant. Illness, loss, financial strain, and unanswered prayers can leave a believer wondering why God allows certain hardships and why His presence seems hidden. These things do not mean God has abandoned us. They mean we are walking through the kind of valleys where faith becomes quieter, deeper, and more dependent on His character rather than our feelings.
Scripture shows that God’s people have felt this way before. David called out, “Why do You hide Your face from me?” Job wondered why God seemed silent in his suffering. Their cries were not signs of weak faith. They were signs of honest faith. They brought their questions to God instead of running from Him.
When God feels absent, we need to begin by returning to Scripture. The Word steadies the mind when emotions shift. It reminds us of who God is, even when we cannot feel Him. His promises do not depend on our circumstances. They depend on Him.
This is where Hebrews 13:5,6 becomes an anchor. Verse 5 gives the promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Verse 6 gives the believer’s response: because God will not abandon us, we can say with confidence that the Lord is our rock, and we don’t need to fear what people or circumstances may do. One verse is assurance. The other is courage. Together they remind us that God’s presence is not based on emotion. It is based on His faithfulness.
Prayer becomes the next anchor. In seasons of silence, prayer is not about getting quick answers. It is about keeping the line open. We speak to God because He hears us, even when He seems quiet. Prayer steadies the heart. It keeps us from drifting into bitterness or despair. It reminds us that God’s silence is not rejection. It is often the quiet space where He teaches us to trust Him more deeply.
Community is the third anchor. When strength runs thin, believers need Christian support. God often speaks through the encouragement of others. He comforts them through their presence. He strengthens through their prayers. Hard seasons are not meant to be carried alone.
Trust grows slowly in times of hardship. It grows when we choose to believe that God is still working, even when we cannot feel His hand. It grows when we remember that His timing is not our timing and His purposes reach farther than our understanding. It grows when we hold onto the truth that God’s silence is never abandonment. It is often preparation, shaping us for something we cannot yet see.
If you feel forgotten, you are not forgotten. God is present in the quiet places. He is near in the shadows. He is faithful in the waiting. When we cannot see the way forward, His light is still guiding. When we feel overlooked, His light is still holding. When life feels dim, His light is still preparing something we cannot yet imagine.
This is where trust becomes real. This is where faith deepens. This is where God teaches us to rely on Him more than ever before.