Unpop Culture

Yes, I am still on a Greatest Showman kick. Cut me some slack, though. My wife and I only saw it for the first time just under three weeks ago. The soundtrack still plays almost daily in our home, providing near endless opportunities for our toddlers to daintily prance and spin as they sing along with “The Circus Man” (as they gleefully call him). Besides, for someone who’s as unhip as myself , it makes sense that I would be taken in by such an uncool ( according to critics ), and yet wildly popular ( according to general audiences ), movie. So, what is my point in writing another post about this particular film? To gush like a fanboy who has staked a personal claim to gold-encrusted, front-row seats on the Greatest Showman bandwagon? Not exactly. (That’s just a happy side effect.) The point of this blog post is to…well, point out a unique aspect of the song “A Million Dreams.” After listening to this song a bajillion times (give or take a few), I’ve noticed something extraor...

Looking back, I realize I should have been more aware of what was coming. I had definitely seen enough signs. And yet the true nature of the approaching changes never really struck me—not until reality itself pulled me into its clutches after my daughter’s birth. I guess it’s like they say: there are certain things you just can’t know or understand until you experience them. You see, I was expecting to enjoy my newborn daughter. What I didn’t expect, and what I wasn’t fully prepared for, was being drastically bulldozed over by an overwhelming array of euphoric emotions and paternal affections. Yes, I expected my daughter to be like a heartwarming drink from a fresh fountain of God’s goodness. But I have discovered that fountain to be more like a perpetual geyser. I am soaked to the bone, and being this drenched has never felt so amazingly good. I should have known what was coming when Chloe, my niece, was born and subsequently stole my heart. Being involved in her early lif...

I have a confession to make: I’m not a loving person. Actually, that’s probably putting it a bit too nicely. Sure, I can be agreeable and diplomatic. I’m not quick to butt heads or pick a fight. But the truth is, when it comes to displaying compassion, I am naturally as soft and snuggly as a slab of granite. To a certain degree, I think men in general can struggle with a tendency toward being harsh and unloving. Colossians 3:19 seems to indicate so: “Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them” (ESV). Personal experience has shown me the power of this temptation toward harshness. Several months ago, on one particularly emotional evening, I isolated myself in the bedroom with my Bible, desperate for God’s help. I was angry and I knew I needed to demonstrate more tenderness and love to Shannon. ( Sound familiar ?) God showed up and rocked my world, displaying His tender love for me by drawing my attention to a short, three-letter Hebrew word: leb . It appears in ...