Take something you won’t miss and give it to someone who might appreciate it. Then, take something you might miss and give it to someone who really needs it.

Along with its inherently good qualities, I’m coming to understand gratefulness as a powerful antidote to pride. And few things will cause old wounds to fester like pride.

For Christians in general, God would be both the source of the wisdom that leads to understanding and of the perfect love that casts out fear. All good things point back to their source. – And for those who share my temperament, a dash of memento mori also helps rebuke fear.

I don’t know. Moreover, when I’ve tried to speculate previously on questions like this, I’ve found it leading less to insight and more to self-absorption. So I need to live my conscience as best I can, and to leave the accounting to others.

Without losing sight of where I should be, I have to proceed from where I am.

From a Catholic perspective, the one who is sacred to me is sacred in and of Himself, and doesn’t need me to preserve His nature. But He does ask me to abide in Him and do His will, so that the fruit I bear will glorify Him and benefit my neighbor. To the extent I can do this, my life becomes sacred. To the extent I fail, which is often enough, my life becomes less than it should be.

I got to spend a day with a family member with whom I used to butt heads constantly and think about all the giving qualities he now has that I never developed.

Pay attention in the Christian gospels to the way Jesus interacted with almost every individual He met. He almost always met people right where they were, without judging them on where He thought they should be. (I imagine similar examples might be found in other faith traditions.)

My connection to our Heavenly Father through his Son, Christ Jesus, and the Spirit that proceeds from them. But I experience this fullness daily only as I consciously abide in that connection daily.

As I bicycle along the riverfront promenade to work each morning, I like seeing the various dogs walking on their leashes with their keepers.

Money, mostly. While incomplete, it’s nonetheless a useful proxy for the much higher calling of sharing love.

By remembering that much of what is good in my life has come to me by grace, utterly undeserved; and that I will be given the grace to get through what is bad, even when I’ve brought that bad on myself. and my getting through it is equally undeserved.

My wife and I had to put down our eleven-year old golden retriever this spring. For me, Honey was an embodiment of gentleness and patience, and she taught me to bring joy rather than competition my play. – On her passing, a friend wrote me, “It’s not logical, but every dog is the best there ever was.” He wrote it for my comfort, without irony. And I believe he’s right.

1) That I’m the smartest guy in the room. 2) That I’m the most moral guy in the room. 3) That anybody owes me unqualified loyalty. – I’ve got others.

I make fewer mistakes.

When I’m in the throes of it, it can’t teach me anything. I’m unreachable. When I’m not in it, other forces, such as those that teach gratefulness, can equip me to identify and avoid the soul-swallowing force it is.

Today evokes nothing for me. But the question itself brings to mind the many people who have had my back over the years, including many for whom it must have been a thankless watch.

Currently, supporting one or two organizations who are on the front lines in that quest with occasional donations when it moves me. It’s a step up from mere good intentions, but I could be going much further.