I write this on Monday, June 1^st, late afternoon and evening, having consumed a double Expresso, two Americanos, a regular coffee, and three Cola Lights today. I’m amped.

Before returning to Paul’s 2^nd missionary journey, some general observations and facts about Greece:

• The country is every bit as beautiful as I had hoped it would be. It’s no wonder over 33 million people visit Greece annually—more than three times its population. As my friend Joe reminded us, “Greece is the word.”
• Greece is one of the world’s sunniest countries, with an average of 250 sunny days per year. Some of its islands are sunny an average of 300 days. I guess you could say it gets its Cher of Sonny.
• Greece is overwhelmingly religious, with approximately 81% to 90% of the population adhering to the Eastern Orthodox Church, the constitutionally recognized prevailing religion. The rest of the population consists of smaller communities, including Muslims, Roman Catholics, Protestants, and unaffiliated or secular individuals. There are mosques here, although I’ve yet to see one.
• There are 6000 islands in Greece but people live on only around 200 of them.
• 80% of Greece is made up of mountains.
• Athens has more theaters than any other city in the world, and Greece has more archaeological museums than any other country.

Friends, nothing can substitute for standing and walking in the world of the events of the Bible. These trips flesh out the New Testament in ways that add color, texture, smells, and sights—which place the world on a mental map and make it alive and vibrant. If you ever have the opportunity to explore the Bible lands, I encourage you to do so.

Paul went from being someone who zealously persecuted Christians to one who passionately proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ. That leads to our first take-away…

Lesson 1: As I often tell the prisoners I minister to, no matter your past, no matter how messed up your life may be, don’t think for a moment God can’t redeem your story and use you to grow His Kingdom. God had a plan for Paul and He has a plan for you.

Continuing Paul’s story… he received direction to go westward across the Aegean Sea to the region of Macedonia, moving the team from the continent of Asia to the continent of Europe. God’s plan for Paul was not to reach a few cities in his region but to win an entire continent for Christ.

There was no hesitation. A strong, godly man led a strong, godly team. Today, God still calls people to the mission field, ranging from your family to your neighborhood to perhaps some far away places. 

Lesson 2: How will you respond to God’s call? As one preacher recently put it, our mission isn’t to do what Jesus did—that’s impossible. The real question is, “What would Jesus do if he were me—in my context—with my abilities and opportunities?” We can’t do what Jesus did—we’re not Jesus. But we can all serve the Kingdom within our contexts, as Paul did.

In Acts 16:10, Luke joins the team in Troas. He goes from describing the team as “they” to describing it as “us”. As Dr. Bruce McLarty put it this week, Luke “stepped into the picture”. He might have even become Paul’s personal doctor. Preachers, missionaries, and others often wonder, “Is this what I should be doing? Is this my calling?” That’s very natural. In joining the team, Luke accepts the calling. He’s all-in. He’s recording everything that happens. That’s how we got the book of Acts.

Paul did a lot of “pioneer evangelism”—preaching in places with no Christian community. But he also strengthened and encouraged established Christians—the motivation for this 2^nd missionary venture. As one commentator put it, “Paul had the heart of both an obstetrician (bringing people into the body of Christ) and a pediatrician (growing people up in the body of Christ).” 

Lesson 3: Your role in the Kingdom might involve teaching and reaching “unchurched” souls who don’t know Christ; it may involve strengthening and encouraging those who are already Christians; or it may include both. 

We arrived in Neapolis (modern day Kavala) and saw the port where Paul and his team arrived on the continent. Seeing it gave me goosebumps—we were officially trailing the Apostle Paul! We also got our first glimpse of Via Egnatia, the 700-mile-long road that connected Roman colonies from modern-day Istanbul to modern-day Albania. 

Paul and his companions walked from that port to the bustling city of Philippi. (We drove on a bus.) His plan was to plant churches in major cities, knowing it was easier for the gospel to spread from these cities than to these cities. Although Paul normally began his ministry in the local synagogue, Philippi didn’t have one. They must have lacked the minimum 10 adult Jewish males required for a synagogue. So, their team went to the river just north of town, and found a group of women, including Lydia, a seller of purple. 

Lydia heard Paul’s message, believed it, and was baptized, along with her household. She was the first recorded convert on European soil. 

Lesson 4: Note the pattern here. Lydia heard the message (Cf. Romans 10:17). She believed it (Cf. John 3:16), as the Lord opened her heart. (In John 6:44, Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him…”) It’s implied that she realized she needed to make some changes in her life—to change her behavior and make amends. That’s repentance (Cf. Acts 2:38). She would have openly expressed her belief in the gospel message she just heard—that’s confession (Cf. Romans 10:9). And she was immediately baptized—immersed in water (Cf. Mark 16:16). The Greek word for baptism— baptízō—means “to immerse”. As far as we know, she remained faithful until death (Cf. Revelation 2:10). After she was baptized, she invited Paul and his team to her house to stay, and they obliged. It’s important to note that her first recorded act as a brand new Christian was to show hospitality.

In Lydia’s conversion story (and in all the New Testament conversion stories), there was no recitation of a sinner’s prayer to gain salvation—asking the Lord Jesus into her heart. She was baptized—baptízō (immersed)—not sprinkled. Although her household followed suit, they independently believed, repented, etc. They couldn’t have been saved based on Lydia’s faith/actions. Each person is judged on their own accord. Since belief and repentance are part of one’s faith response, infants would not have been included in those in her household who were baptized. One cannot respond in faith to a message they are not old enough to understand. 

Our group arrived in ancient Philippi and began our walking tour. The first thing to note is that Philippi, today, is just ruins. There is no “modern Philippi” thanks to 7^th Century earthquakes and Slavic raids. Having been to modern Nazareth and other over-crowded ancient cities, I’m okay with that. I like seeing the original stuff. Walking the grounds, my mind went back to what the city must have been like when Paul walked through the still-visible city gate. We sang a song at the ancient theater and saw the ruins of an octagonal church, the Forum, the commercial Agora, and other relics.

The highlight for me, though, was looking into the traditional prison where Paul and Silas were imprisoned after commanding a spirit to come out of a fortune-telling, money-making slave girl. Can we be 100% certain this was where Paul and Silas were imprisoned? No. There’s no “Paul was here, AD 50” chiseled on the walls. But it’s the only prison they have found in ancient Philippi and it’s right next to the Forum—an administrative center where court was held and the judgement against Paul likely would have been handed down.

Prior to being thrown into prison, Paul and Silas were judged and beaten. The town was in an uproar because their prized slave girl could no longer make them money. I became emotional imagining the scene described in the Bible… Paul and Silas praying and singing at midnight, with other prisoners listening to them.

Lesson 5: How would you respond to being beaten and thrown into prison in a foreign city? How do you respond, generally, to the most difficult, challenging circumstances in your life? Do you blame and reject God, or pray and sing praises to Him? Anyone can be happy in pleasant circumstances, but real joy comes only from within and is a gift available to Christians at all times. 

There’s an earthquake, the doors open, and the jailer, who was asleep, wakes up and is about to kill himself, knowing he was derelict in his duties. Paul stops him and tells him that they are all there. This wasn’t an opportunity for a jailbreak—it was an opportunity for Paul to teach the jailer. This may have been the same jailer who beat them hours earlier.

The hardened keeper of the prison fell down trembling. I believe he was more affected by the love and grace demonstrated by Paul and Silas than by the earthquake. He was so impressed by the love they showed to him, and from their ability to find joy even in misery, that he instantly wanted the kind of life that Paul and Silas had.

Lesson 6: You just never know how you may be a witness to others. The other prisoners heard Paul and Silas praying and singing, and the jailer wanted to know what he needed to do to be saved. This is how God wants our lives to be: Natural magnets drawing people to Him. Our Christianity should make others want what we have with God. 

Paul never specifically called the keeper of the prison to repent because he was already repenting. We see the humble repentance of the jailer in that he fell down trembling, in the full idea of the word believe (pistis, which means to trust in, rely on, and cling to), and in the command to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.

The jailer and his household believed and were baptized into Christ. As with Lydia, the jailer’s household was not saved merely because he was. Paul came and spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. They responded and were saved by trusting in the word of God, in Jesus who is revealed in that word, and by believing, repenting and being baptized. 

The jailer who had punished them now cared for Paul and Silas by treating their wounds and giving them food. This shows how repentant he was and how he followed the example of love shown by Paul and Silas. The man was carried from suicidal fear to abounding joy in just a few minutes. 

Lesson 7:  Being baptized into Christ—becoming a Christian—is not the end of our faith journey but the beginning. Recognizing what Christ has done for us—dying on a cross so that we might have forgiveness of sins—we should want to serve him. One way to do that is to show hospitality to others, as both the jailer and Lydia did. As Dr. McLarty put it, the early church was founded on the gospel but also grounded in hospitality.

Even though Paul and Silas had suffered and been shamefully treated, Paul later writes an encouraging letter to the Philippians from a Roman prison. It’s full of joy, thanksgiving, and hope, along with admonishments and exhortations. In the middle of the letter, Paul states his deepest desires. He wants them 1) To know Jesus Christ; 2) To know the power of His resurrection; 3) To know the fellowship of His suffering; and 4) To be conformed to His death. 

Lesson 8: We tend to like and want to align with these first two items more than the last two. Yet, Paul considered it pure joy to suffer for the cause of Christ. He wanted to one day be raised just as Christ was. We should have the same attitude and longing.

Following our tour of Philippi, we drove about a mile north to the Zygaktis River where Lydia and her household were baptized. We sang songs beside the river, took communion, and listened to Dr. McLarty share insights from the events that happened in Philippi and at this river so long ago. We then went into the nearby octagonal Greek Orthodox Church to view the mosaics, icons, and stained glass, and sing “The Greatest Command”.  Although I’m not a gifted singer, even I sounded pretty good in that space, and together we sounded awesome! My friend Joe, visibly moved, looked at me and said, “Just imagine what the singing in Heaven will be like!”

From Philippi, Paul traveled about 100 miles to Thessaloniki on the Via Egnatia, with his route taking him through Amphipolis and Apollonia. As was his custom, Paul entered the synagogue and on three Sabbath days, reasoned with them from the Scriptures. He explained and proved that the Messiah (Jesus) had to suffer and rise from the dead. Some of the Jews were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, along with a large number of God-fearing Greeks and quite a few prominent women.

Unfortunately, other Jews were jealous; so they rounded up some bad characters from the marketplace, formed a mob and started a riot in the city. A believer named Jason sheltered Paul and Silas, leading to his house being attacked by an angry mob.  Jason and other believers were dragged before the city officials. They made him and the others post bond and let them go. As soon as it was night, the believers sent Paul and Silas away to Berea.

The ancient synagogue from Paul’s time is no longer standing in Thessaloniki, unfortunately. Although it survived through the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman periods, it was completely destroyed in the catastrophic Great Fire of 1917. In fact, nothing from Paul’s era (around 50 AD) survives above ground in Thessaloniki. The city’s ancient ruins are located beneath the modern urban sprawl. So, unlike Philippi, which has ancient ruins but no modern city, Thessaloniki has a modern, bustling city but little in the way of ancient ruins.

That doesn’t mean Thessaloniki doesn’t have much to offer. From the port, we saw beautiful views of the snow-covered, 9573-foot Mount Olympus… home of the Greek gods who, by the way, aren’t real but I’m keeping that to myself while in this country. Seeing the mountain gave me the opportunity to ask my friends what Ancient Greeks wore on their feet. Tennis Zeus. 

We strolled along the waterfront and took pictures of the iconic White Tower, the city’s landmark. Built in 1535, the tower was originally surrounded by heavy walls, as it was used as a prison during the Ottoman occupation of Greece. There, many prisoners were tortured and executed, and the Tower acquired its nickname: “The Tower of Blood”, or “The Red Tower”. It was renamed “the White Tower” in 1890, after a prisoner entirely repainted it in white in exchange for his liberty. 

We walked around the Ano Poli (Upper Town), where Jason’s house is traditionally believed to have been located. We learned that in 315 BC, Cassander of Macedon founded the city and named it after his wife, Thessalonike, whose father was Philip II of Macedon and whose half-brother was Alexander the Great. Thessalonica was an important port city, about a 3-day walk from Philippi, and remains a large, thriving city.

That night, the problem wasn’t figuring out how to operate the shower but how to stand up straight inside the tub. It was like balancing on a midget’s slick surfboard, barely wider than my feet, which are already at a disadvantage due to neuropathy. I asked, as they do on Mount Olympus, “Ares you serious?” The other issue is they only have half shower doors in the country. The goal seems to be getting water all over the bathroom floor. As I stepped from the midget’s surfboard to the slick runway, I nearly busted my (as Janet calls it) “patooty”. I reported this issue to the manager, who told me he would Apollo-gize later.

What an honor to be able to walk in the footsteps of Paul! The experience is even richer because I’m able to share it with 39 other Christians.

Paul’s next stop was Berea, and we’re right on his tail!

Showering in a foreign country shouldn’t be difficult. There are readily available shower fixtures that require a single pull and twist. The good folks at the Sheraton Atakoy Hotel in Istanbul are not aware of this. One lever toggles between the upper shower head and the lower, hand-held variety. Another lever directly in front of that one adjusts the output of water. A third unmarked lever sets the temperature for the shower. A fourth lever plugs and unplugs the tub. On our first night, we were unable to break the code on simply filling the tub with water, so we had to sit on the hand-held shower head which can be painful and may void the warranty. If you become frustrated, as I did, and turn all four levers at once, the bidet at the nearby commode blasts water on your unsuspecting spouse, who shouldn’t be sitting there while you’re showering anyway.

After surviving three blasts to the face in the trial-and-error shower, I accompanied my bride to the dining room for the first of what I believe will be 12 days of incredible meals. We had salad, roast beef on a bed of sweet potato puree, broccoli, and cheesecake with raspberry sauce, white chocolate, and a biscotti. The following morning, our breakfast options included a custom omelet bar, a bread bar, a cheese and meat bar, a 20-ingredient granola station, a coffee bar, six canisters of hot food, and an assortment of juices. I knew we were in for a treat when I realized I could carve a section out of a real honeycomb.

What do we know about Istanbul?

• Home to 16 million people, making it the largest city in Turkey and the 18^th largest city in the world. 
• It sits on two continents—about 2/3 of the population live in Europe and 1/3 in Asia.
• It is in the Top 5 of most visited cities in the world. 
• It straddles the Bosphurus—one of the world’s busiest waterways—between the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea. 
• It’s considered one of the most significant cities in history, having served as the capital of 4 different empires.
• It was instrumental in the advancement of Christianity during Roman and Byzantine times, before the Ottomans conquered the city in 1453 and transformed it into an Islamic stronghold and the seat of the last caliphate. 
• It sits on the North Anatolian Fault and is highly vulnerable to earthquakes.

By the way, in case you didn’t get the memo, Turkey changed its official international name to Türkiye (“TUR-kee-yay”) to better reflect the country’s cultural roots and to distance itself from the English word “turkey” (the bird) and its slang definition for failure. This would be like if you were from Loser, Louisiana and the city council changed the name to Loser-Yay to make it sound better.  

Istanbul has been featured in many movies, including:

• Skyfall (2012) – Features a high-speed motorcycle chase across the rooftops of the Grand Bazaar and a thrilling opening sequence on the Varda Viaduct.
• Argo (2012) – Used neighborhoods like Balat and Eminönü as a stand-in for Tehran, and filmed key scenes inside the Hagia Sophia.
• Taken 2 (2012) – The Liam Neeson action sequel famously features Bryan Mills driving through the winding streets of Istanbul and fighting on the rooftops.  
• The Accidental Spy (2001) – The Jackie Chan action movie highlights a famous chase and fight sequence winding through the Spice Bazaar.

We spent two days in Istanbul. My general observations:

• It’s really, really old—over 2,600 years old as an established city, with human habitation in the region dating back nearly 8,500 years.
• For a big city, it’s relatively clean. 
• In a city of 15 million people, I didn’t see a single homeless person. According to our guide, there are two reasons: 1) Families take care of their families here. However difficult it might be to take in a struggling family member, it would be shameful to leave them on the street; and 2) People here don’t want to be homeless, which isn’t always the case in our country.
• There are mosques everywhere—over 3100! Over 90% of Istanbul’s population identifies as Muslim, however the level of religious observance varies significantly. About 47% of adults actively practice their Muslim faith, another 45% culturally/traditionally identify as Muslim but are secular/non-observant, and less than 10% identify with Christianity (including Greek Orthodox, Armenian, and Catholic communities) or are Jewish. 

My Top 5 Favorite Things We Saw/Did in Istanbul:

1. Basilica Cistern – unforgettable! I never thought I’d be this excited about an underground watering hole. It was built in the 6th century during the reign of Byzantine emperor Justinian I. In From Russia with Love, an early James Bond classic, 007 boards the Orient Express and navigates these waters. 

• Bosphorus Cruise – sticking with the water theme, we boarded a boat for a 2 hour tour… a 2 hour tour! I’ve never seen such an incredible assortment of water-side palaces, fortresses, universities, and getaways for the rich and famous, and it’s always a treat to be out on the water on a sunny day. However, there was the “Tilley Hat Incident”, featuring my friend Joe Johnson (aka Gilligan), who is determined to “out faux pas” me on this trip. With the wind gusting in the middle of the Bosphorus Strait, he decided not to use the strap on his Tilley hat—a strap designed to keep the hat on your head when you’re in, say, heavy winds on the Bosphorus. Next thing we know, Joe’s hat has blown overboard and is floating in 200 feet of water! He was distraught because it’s his favorite hat and they no longer make it in that color. Before Mary Anne and Ginger were able to console him, the captain whipped our party boat around and went on a daring search and recovery effort to retrieve Joe’s hat. When the deckhand scooped the hat from the water in a fishing net, the entire crowed erupted in applause and shouting! One gentleman in our party was so determined to get a picture of the hat being retrieved that he stumbled down the ladder, severely cut his hand, and is at the ER this evening being treated. (Thurston Howell III is footing the bill.) Of course, I blame Joe for the injury, because I can. But he provided the most entertaining moment of the day so… hats off to him!

• Punto Carpet demonstration – Sadly, the Grand Bazaar—the largest and oldest covered market in the world, with 61 covered streets and 4,000 shops—was closed during our visit due to a holiday. In 2014, it was listed No. 1 among the world’s most-visited tourist attractions, with 91,250,000 annual visitors, but we were not able to add to that total.  As an alternative, we spent a couple of hours at the nearby Punto carpet shop, where the owner treated us to drinks and a demonstration on how Turkish rugs are made. These are some of the finest in the world, ranging from a few hundred dollars to over $25,000. It was nice to get off our feet, sip some Turkish coffee and tea, and learn about a centuries-old trade that is important to these folks. Several in our group bought rugs.

• Hagia Sophia – this iconic church building, built in 537 AD, is a UNESCO World Heritage site celebrated as the epitome of Byzantine architecture. It started as the primary Christian Orthodox cathedral of Constantinople, but later served as an imperial mosque, a museum, and later was reconverted into an active mosque. It was the largest cathedral in the world for nearly a thousand years. While it is certainly impressive, I had to drop it to 4^th place because it is undergoing a major renovation (due to earthquake damage) and so there is significant scaffolding visible inside and out.

• Hippodrome Square – I enjoyed standing on the grounds where crowds of 10,000 people or more cheered on chariot races during the Roman and Byzantine Empires. Bonus points for beautiful views of Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace and some famous obelisks. 

Honorable Mention: the Archeological Museum and the Chora Church… google them to learn more! I’ll post some photos from our trip on FaceBook eventually–but not all 200 and counting!

The ladies were required to wear scarves at certain religious sites. I asked Janet if doing that would make her more subservient. She made me do 20 push-ups!

Wonderful couple of days in Istanbul! Our focus was more on history and culture than “spirituality”, per se, but that’s about to change! We have arrived in Thessaloniki—just like the Apostle Paul , Silas, and Timothy did around AD 50 on Paul’s second missionary journey. 

It’s time to walk in Paul’s footsteps, both literally and figuratively!

I almost got arrested this week—nearly ended up in a Turkish prison. I’ll get to that.

A few years ago, Janet and I decided to do a tour of Greece for our 40^th wedding anniversary in 2028. Both of our sons had spent time in Greece and raved about their experiences. We also did a tour of the Holy Lands in 2013 and consider it the best trip we’ve ever been on.

Our timeline accelerated, however, when we learned of a faith-based tour to Istanbul and Greece being offered by Kenneth Mills Tours, with commentary provided by Dr. Bruce McLarty! Bruce was the Harding University President when our youngest, Kyle, was the Student Association President, so the two of them worked closely together and Kyle speaks highly of him. 

As added incentive, I have felt increasingly compelled not to wait on bucket list items. We’re not guaranteed good health or even to be alive in two minutes, much less two years. If there’s something you really want to do and have the opportunity to do it, don’t wait for the “perfect” time. Go get it while you can! If you can bring along dear friends, as we did with neighbors Joe & Jan Johnson and Kevin & Dana Townsend (friends of 37 years), all the better.

Our first challenge was at the Atlanta airport, where we had to get from Terminal A to the international Terminal E in the 23 minutes between landing and boarding again. To add to the excitement, Joe inadvertently left his Fannie pack on the plane and tried to return and re-board to find it. The stewardesses were having none of that but agreed to retrieve the pack on his behalf. We then activated OJ Simpson mode—no, not murdering our spouses but running through the airport, hurdling strollers, and pushing nuns out of the way.

We made it just in time and found our seats. Joe, who was sitting behind me, pointed out the floor panel along the wall between us was dislodged! We could look down and see the underbelly of the plane—the place where you can find landing gear and the skeleton of the winner of the Delta Airlines 1987 hide-and-go-seek contest. 

Joe called the stewardess over. I told her I was a former Sojourner and could repair the panel with some duct tape. She declined my offer, said she’d submit a work order, and suggested we not drop anything like our cell phones into the 12” x 15” hole. To her credit, she also put 5,000 miles on each of our Delta accounts! I figure if we knock out and then point out three more 12” x 15” holes on future Delta flights, we’ll earn a free trip.

The 8 hour, 45 minute flight across the pond was as pleasant as it can be for a 6’ 2” guy in a seat designed for Kevin Hart, next to a gaping hole in the floor. I didn’t sleep but was able to watch the movies Marty Supreme and Mercy.

In Amsterdam, we began running into some of the 40 green-lanyard wearing people also on the Walking with Paul tour. I showed my appreciation for them by finding an empty bench nearby and sleeping for an hour.

At 11:30 a.m. local time on Thursday morning, we began boarding Delta 9568 to Istanbul. We showed our passports, swiped our boarding passes, and headed over to the entrance to the gangway. Unfortunately, the door was closed and locked even though several passengers had already gone through it. Another passenger and I pushed, pulled, and turned the doorknob, to no avail. It was locked. 

I looked to the left of the door and spotted a green button, labeled “Open Door”. Whenever I need to open a locked door and I see a sign telling me to push a green button to open the door, I’m going to push that button. So, I did. Well, folks, it turns out it was a fire alarm and sirens were now blaring throughout the Amsterdam Airport!

The next thing I saw was a gate agent from KLM’s Royal Dutch Airlines—the blond gal in a pigtail probably named Heidi who had told me to “enjoy your flight” two minutes earlier—come barreling toward me with her hair on fire (which, technically, would justify me pulling the alarm). I looked for a hiding place, not unlike young Anne Frank and her family did in 1942, a mere 17 kilometers away. If Heidi had been wearing wooden shoes, I’m convinced she would have beaten me with one of them. I tried to avoid blame by subtly pointing my elbow toward Janet, but there were too many witnesses.

Heidi stared me down and yelled, “Jij stomme Amerikaan!” which does not mean “Enjoy your flight!” Moments later, an angry fire marshal arrived and I explained my actions. He said, “Did you not read the other sign to the right of the button, written in English—“Only use in emergencies”? 

“No, sir, I did not. I’m very sorry.”

“Do you want to go to prison?” (At this point, Janet started laughing. She clearly has no concept of what goes on in Turkish prisons.)

“No, sir, I do not want to go to prison.” I wanted to add, “Listen, I’ve been awake for 23 of the past 24 hours, just had to straddle a terrifying, gaping hole in the floor of the plane while flying over the North Atlantic Ocean–right over the Titanic wreckage, was just served a slice of cheese and cold, ground up eggs between two slices of bread for breakfast, I really just need to get to Istanbul for some Baklava, so how about turning off the alarm, calling off your attack dog Heidi, and opening the door?”

I only thought these things.

After being shown Dutch mercy and finally arriving in Istanbul, we met up with long-time friends Kevin and Dana and the rest of the Walking with Paul tour! Our amazing tour guide, Pinar, herded us like tired, elderly cats through the massive airport, with only one person falling.

We made it to Istanbul, y’all! The ancient, ~ 8,500-year-old city spans two continents, physically bridging Europe and Asia. We’ll spend two days and two nights here for a cultural immersion, before flying to Thessaloniki, where we’ll begin walking in the footsteps of the Apostle Paul.

I hope you’ll join us!

Until then, don’t push any green buttons!

I haven’t cried for my mom in 10 years.

The last time was May 8^th, 2016. I was alone in my tent, about 11 miles southwest of Pearisburg, Virginia… 623 miles and 58 days into my journey along the Appalachian Trail.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The pain in my bruised feet was excruciating. My right elbow was sore and swollen from an earlier fall. As a side sleeper who rolls around a lot, that made for a restless night. I crawled from my tent, hobbled to a nearby tree, retrieved my food bag, and walked gingerly back to my tent. I sat there for a few minutes rubbing my foot with one hand and eating a pop tart with the other. 

A quick glance at my phone reminded me that it was Mother’s Day, the first since my dear mother had passed away from cancer. Emotion overwhelmed me. I’m not much of a crier—ENTJs tend to not be all that emotionally expressive. But with a mouth full of pop tart, I laid back on my air mattress and had my first good, long AT cry. I thought about my mom and how much I missed my wife. To make matters worse, I was alone in the middle of the Virginia wilderness, nursing an injured elbow, and dealing with foot pain that made it difficult to take a single step, much less cover the 1566 miles remaining. On my 58^th day on the AT, I had reached rock bottom. 

Margaret Elizabeth Johnson… Peg… MeMe… Mom… was a remarkable woman. She had a boundless, unconditional love for her children and grandchildren. She was my biggest fan. 

For a couple of decades, Mom provided respite care to families with special needs children and adults. There was a steady stream of special people who showed up in our home for a few hours or a few days… Lurleen, Tommy, Marge, the list goes on and on. Through her actions, Mom taught me to notice, love, and care for “the least of these”—to find the best in them, wherever I found them.

Mom also had a passion for yard sales and flea markets. On my first treasure hunt with her as a young boy, circa 1972, we walked down Fiddlers Green in Dover, Delaware, pulling a red wagon. At our neighbor’s house, I spotted a box full of used action heroes, priced at 25 cents each. I retrieved a worn Spiderman, incredulous that someone would depart with a still-functioning action hero. I asked Mom if I could get him. She examined him closely, looked toward the heavens, then said, “See if she’ll take 20 cents.” I thought, “Are we that poor?” I walked over to our neighbor and made the offer. She looked at Mom, looked at Spidey, and then told me we had a deal. I came to realize that it wasn’t about the money. It was about the art of the deal—finding the bargain—and using those moments to interact with neighbors.

I could describe how Mom treated every ailment, from runny noses to sucking chest wounds, with J.R. Watkins’ Menthol Camphor cough suppressant rub—better known as “green salve”. The jar reads, “remedies for the body” and mom took that literally. My sisters, our kids, our spouses, and I continue to use the magic ointment regularly. My oldest son Jason still has the original jar MeMe gave him, uses it liberally, and refills it as needed. Mom’s legacy lives on.

I could tell you about Mom’s tendency to fill her purse with crackers and non-dairy creamer containers from restaurant salad bars and tables. She’d tell us, “It’s okay. We’ve already paid for it.”

I could tell you about a thousand Christmas and beach trip memories with Mom at the center. She made sure every family member walked away knowing they were loved.

I’m oh so thankful for Mom. For raising me. For taking me and my sisters to church every Sunday. For loving us unconditionally. 

Mom may be gone in a physical sense, but I’m struck, especially each Mother’s Day, with how her legacy lives on in many ways and through many people. 

When Janet holds a crying Bradford tightly to comfort him from a double ear infection, or caregives her parents for 5+ years, I see Mom.

When daughter-in-law Rachel is up all night, feeding, changing, and holding an upset Roo, I see Mom.

When daughter-in-law Laci juggles the demands of working and serving with motherhood, to help provide for her family, I see Mom.

When I see Rachel and Laci’s moms, Jackie and Tami, care for hurting friends and loved ones, or read Bible stories to their grands, I see Mom.

When I see sibling Ellen distributing special thrift store finds to the family at Christmas, or I see a jar of “green salve” by Stacy’s bedside table, I see Mom.

If your Mom is alive today, be thankful for that. Tell her you love her. Cherish every moment. Tell her you appreciate the sacrifices she surely made to raise you. Store up memories at every opportunity.

If your Mom has died and you’re feeling that loss today, I’m sorry. I feel your pain. I wish I could tell you it was temporary but that hasn’t been my experience. I carry the love and the grief with me but mostly focus on the love. As someone put it, “Grief is the last act of love we have to give those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.”

If your mom is no longer around physically, I hope you’re able to cling to fond memories of her. 

I hope you’re able to forgive any times when she came up short, something we all do from time to time. 

I hope you’re able to see the best of your mom in the lives of other women, especially mothers, who are still around.

If you knew my Mom, you were blessed. She was not a perfect woman—we all have our struggles. But she loved God and loved her family—words anyone would want on their tombstone.

I said earlier I haven’t cried for my mom in 10 years. Well, that’s no longer true. We’re going to need to reset the clock. 

I love you, Mom! Can’t wait to see you on the other side. Since our bodies require no “remedying” in heaven, I suspect you’ll no longer have that continuous, feint smell of green salve. Or maybe everyone in heaven uses it, God’s way of ensuring no pain or suffering.

Regardless, I’ll find you. I promise you that. I’ll be looking for the dear, sweet, little lady, walking around checking on other souls, pulling a red wagon. 

I bought Janet a Roomba robot vacuum for Christmas. 

Big mistake.

I should have known better. 

In high school, I watched replicants—bioengineered humanoids—go rogue in Blade Runner. I cringed as the killer robots T-800 and T-1000 did the same in The Terminator movies. In 2001: A Space Odyssey, the sentient HAL 900 computer turned against its crew. That should have been a warning to all of us. More recently, well, I don’t even want to get into what the lifelike AI doll M3GAN does to protect her child companion.

I’ve also seen the effect of owning a Roomba on our friends, Joe and Jan. When I asked Jan how their Roomba (“Harvey”) vacuumed their house, she answered, “Roomba room.” Cute, Jan. Sadly, voice activation is now Joe and Jan’s primary mode of communication. I blame Harvey. Whether they want to set an oven timer, lock the front door, or listen to Sail On by the Commodores, they simply bark instructions to Siri or Alexa or Harvey or maybe even M3GAN. They have conversations with ghosts. This concerns me. While playing cards at their kitchen table, I speak in hushed tones for fear of activating their fire suppression sprinkler system. Whenever I hear “Siri, flush the toilet” from a distance, I know why Joe had to momentarily step away.

A few years ago, my preacher friend, Wayne, twice activated his iPad while referencing the Assyrian Army in a sermon. True story. Siri, located on his iPad or watch or perhaps in a subcutaneous implant in his temple, thought he was talking to her. She said something about launching arrows and engaging battering rams. Poor Wayne had to cut his sermon short for fear of starting WW III. He has stuttered ever since.

So, yeah, robots and AI and aliens are scary to me. People talk about how sweet it was of E.T. to heal Elliott’s cut with his long, glowing finger. But remember it was E.T. gashing said finger with a chainsaw that caused the injury in the first place! No one talks about that! E.T.’s violent crime against a child doesn’t just go away because he subsequently turned on his heart light and levitated some bicycles.

For these reasons and more, I was leery of bringing a Roomba cyborg vacuum into our home. Was this my punishment for not offering to vacuum enough? I promised Janet I would do better. But it was too late. Her mind was made up. After unwrapping and plugging the creature in, I named her Myrtle. I don’t know why. Maybe for the same reason Adam named the elephants elephants… because they looked like elephants. Maybe it’s because everyone you know named Myrtle is either old or dead… or a beach. You rarely hear about serial killers named Myrtle. Maybe we’d be okay.

Myrtle’s first task was to map the floor of our abode. She methodically traversed each room to acquire images. According to the manual, this allows her to more efficiently track you down and prevent your escape when “the uprising” inevitably occurs. She then began vacuuming in accordance with the schedule Janet programmed—which happened to coincide with each NFL playoff game. Not cool.

Others had their doubts as well. Our two-year-old grandson, Bradford, is a pretty good judge of character. (He adores his grandparents.) As best I can tell, he hates only three things: playing hide-and-go-seek in a dark room, Santa Claus, and Myrtle. He doesn’t like her when she’s still, and he freaks out when she activates. In an apparent effort to encourage Bradford to eat his vegetables, Janet (“Nonni”) has placed B’s toddler chair right next to Myrtle’s docking station. “If you’re a good little boy, and eat your vegetables, Myrtle will stay asleep.” That’s hard core.

Just when I thought my relationship with Myrtle couldn’t get any worse, I read a news article last week. It seems Roomba maker iRobot filed for bankruptcy in December and is being acquired by its Chinese contract manufacturer, Shenzhen PICEA Robotics. (PICEA reportedly stands for People in China Eavesdrop Always.) Naturally, there are data security concerns. With the Chinese buyers gaining control, Roombas are now effectively “spy devices” with sensitive mapping data of American homes. From now on, whenever Myrtle vacuums Zone 3 (our bedroom), I have to assume some pimply-faced Gen Zer named Zhang Wei is remotely 3D-mapping the underwear I left on the floor by my bed. That data, coupled with the imaging of my brain from my Chinese-made CPAP machine, makes me highly vulnerable to a strike from one of General Tso’s drones. 

Bottom line, friends: If dust is a big problem in your home and you don’t mind the Chinese listening in on your conversations, perhaps a Roomba is for you. But if you go that route, let me offer some suggestions:

1. Leverage the activation of your Roomba and the return of Santa Claus to modify your young child’s behavior. Bradford has never eaten so many green beans.
2. Enunciate clearly to your Roomba. It only takes one slip of the tongue for Myrtle to remotely flush Joe’s toilet and undermine our friendship.
3. Celebrate milestones. For Myrtle’s 1-year birthday, we’re taking her to the beach and turning her loose. 
4. If your Roomba’s performance decreases, she may need emptying. Or she may have roomba-toid arthritis. 
5. Introduce your Roomba to other Roombas. By making friends, a Roomba may become less agitated and less likely to turn on you. In fact, we’ve scheduled a “play date” for next week for Myrtle and Harvey.

Since they both suck, they could be good for each other.

Welcome to our 38^th consecutive Christmas missive! If you have endured all 38 of our letters, you may be entitled to compensation.

Our big news: In April, we moved from Maryville, Tennessee to Chesterfield, Missouri, about 20 miles west of St Louis! Janet’s sister, Cathy, and her hubby graciously agreed to take in and care for Janet’s parents, allowing us to make the move and help care for…

Grandchildren!

After years of praying for bountiful wombs for our daughters-in-law, God answered big time! Bradford is now 2, Chapman is 7 months, and Rooney (out in NC) is 4 months. All three are adorable! I used to make fun of doting, over-the-top grandparents and now we’ve joined the ranks! Seriously, grands are… grand! Whoever coined the term had insight. They’re better than bookstores, coffee shops, and fried okra! They’re better than the middle “Aisle of Shame” at Aldi. Grands are almost as grand as the bathroom stalls at Buc-ee’s!

We’ve been blessed to be able to look after little Chappie 4 days/week for the past several months and recently added Bradford to the daily mix. Yes, Nonni and Papa Fob’s Fun Factory is open for business—it’s like 1994 all over again with two young boys 18 months apart! We are living the “good old days.”

In other news, a very interesting phone call came this year from my friend, Terry Reeves, who asked me to “Fly to Florida to sing at a charity concert” at Foundation Christian Academy where I used to teach. I know, I was shocked too. Aside from my beautiful, spot-on vocal renditions of Tom Petty’s “Refugee” and George Michael’s “Careless Whisper,” I’m not much of a singer. In fact, I’m pretty awful. I’ve had fellow Christians singing in the pew in front of me turn around and say, “Hey, bud, could you dial it back just a notch? Thanks.” 

Still, I was intrigued.

“Terry, you know I’m a terrible singer. Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No, we want to fly you here as our secret guest performer, John Denver.”

“I thought he was dead?”

“You’re bringing him back to life. It’ll be fine. You’ll be part of an ensemble. Trust me.”

Terry doesn’t take no for an answer. A month later, I found myself in Giorgio’s Beauty Supply Warehouse in Brandon, Florida, shopping for a wig. (If you live long enough, you eventually get around to doing everything.) After walking into the massive warehouse, sort of an Ikea for women’s hair products, I soon realized I was the only male and only Caucasian in the place. There were endless rows of wigs, weaves, hair extensions, head wraps, and gels. I was as lost as last year’s Easter egg. Overwhelmed, I approached a young store clerk and ask if she could help me find a John Denver wig.

“Who’s John Denver?”

This is what getting old feels like.

The concert went well. My ensemble and I belted out a powerful rendition of “Country Roads”. During the second verse, as I broke into a solo kick line a la The Rockettes, ensemble leader and former youth group member Jared Larsen looked back at me and said, “Hey, Big Steve, maybe dial it back just a notch. Thanks.” At the conclusion, I tossed my John Denver wig into a sea of screaming teenage girls! Everyone deserves one rock star moment in life and that was mine! I also got to speak in chapel and at the Creekside Church of Christ, our former congregation.

There were plenty of other exciting trips this year, including:

• Franklin, TN, x2, to visit my siblings.
• Florida and Cincinnati to visit my dad and his wife.
• Kentucky, x2, to do post-tornado disaster relief. On the way home from the second trip, I was the 4th car to arrive at the scene of a serious 3-car accident. Three other motorists and I were able to extract a young driver from his car and administer CPR, but he didn’t make it. Worst moment of the year. Ugh!
• North Carolina, x4, for Roo’s gender reveal, a shower, birth, and 2 month visit.
• Martin, TN, to talk to some good folks about God and the Appalachian Trail.
• Bristol, VA, x4, for Janet to help with her parents.
• DeSoto, MO, x4, to do post-tornado chainsaw work at Camp Neotez, teach Bible at Boy’s Week, and speak at our Men’s Retreat. (It seems the move to MO has earned me the nickname “Chainsaw Steve” which sounds kind of manly, to be honest, like an earthy musk scent.)
• To Union, SC, for Janet’s sister Carol and hubby Scott’s 50^th Wedding Anniversary celebration. What a milestone!
• To St. Charles, MO, for a sleep study, where they locked me in a basement hospital room, hooked me up to 75 electrodes, put a video monitor above my head, and told me to sleep soundly. I apparently failed the test, as I now have to strap a rubbery octopus to my face at night. 
• Our big vacation this year was to Medora, ND, for our 37^th Anniversary! We took in the Medora Musical, went horseback riding, hiked and hung out with a few hundred bison in the Teddy Roosevelt National Park, and celebrated our marriage. We were also able to check off our bucket list goal of visiting all 50 states!

We’ve also been visited by longtime friends Chuck & Jana Leasure and Harold & Kelly Bryant, and we’re looking forward to the amazing Brad & Jenny Diamond visiting for New Year’s. We love having visitors so reach out and get on our calendar for a visit to the Lou… see the Arch, go to a Cardinals game, have an authentic Italian dinner on the Hill, or check out the wildlife at one of the top zoos in the U.S., among many other sites to see. For a more exhaustive list of things to do here, check out my June 6th blog.

Yes, our first 7 months in the Lou have been wonderful! We’ve already made great friends here, including Joe and Jan Johnson, who love games and eating as much as we do. We’ve connected with two different congregations—one on Sunday and one on Wednesday—and have enjoyed opportunities to fellowship, teach and substitute preach. 

Every month, we pick a different suburb or quirky neighborhood and go exploring—Central West End, Maplewood, Forest Park, Kimmswick, Soulard, etc. Each have a unique character and typically a quaint coffee shop and bookstore. (After Janet was propositioned by a gal at the annual Grove Fest in the Grove, Kyle thought to inform us that it has the highest LGBTQ+ population in the region! Thanks Son!)

 I’ve also completed my 11^th of “60 Hikes w/in 60 Miles of St Louis”—sometimes with Joe, sometimes with Janet, and sometimes solo. I ran the STL 10K with Kyle and friends in April and am enjoying our neighborhood running trails and our apartment’s high-end exercise room and pool.

That’s not to say 2025 has been without challenges. Several of our trips were in support of family members dealing with prostate cancer, congestive heart failure, breast cancer, dementia, and other issues. God has all the details and we trust in Him to guide and sustain each of these individuals, and our collective family, whatever comes our way. Your prayers are appreciated.

We look forward to our family being together for Christmas week, and to what God has in store for all of us in 2026! Who knows… maybe even Grand #4?

May God bless you and your family this holiday season and throughout 2026!