Down Home: Put on your jammies, brush your teeth and say, “Thanks”

How do you feel when you crawl into bed at night?

Sorry. I know it’s a personal question. You don’t have to tell me. Shoot, you don’t have to tell anybody, for that matter. But answer the question for yourself. Complete this sentence: “At the end of the day, I feel ….”

Maybe it’s just me, but the first few minutes after Joanna and I turn out the light often are the hardest, loneliest moments I endure all day. (OK, feel free to do your Sigmund Freud impression and psychoanalyze away.) That’s when I face the cold reality of what I did—and didn’t do—during the past 18 hours or so. It’s the one time all day when the world slows down enough to think about what I’ve got to do tomorrow.

Thoughts of concern

For years, the status and future of the Baptist Standard occupied my final wakeful thoughts each night. What can we do to stop our sliding circulation? How can we replace advertisers hurt by denominational declines? How can we produce a publication the churches and Texas Baptists will value? How can we remain true to our wonderful legacy in a world where eroding brand loyalty, technological upheaval and a stumbling economy are killing off newspapers every month?

A devotional I read recently has been helping me turn on a nightlight in my soul.

Lately, my thoughts have turned to transitioning from a printed tabloid newspaper to a completely digital publication, producing a monthly magazine and providing Texas Baptists with information they need and, more importantly, want. And every night, I also wonder how we’ll raise the rest of the money we need to launch FaithVillage.com, our social network/resources website for young adults and teen-agers. We need $5 million, and we’ve raised $2.2 million. That’s a huge gap. And then we need content partners and church partners and hundreds of thousands of readers, so that this new ministry can sustain itself.

After pondering those thoughts night after night after night, I’d welcome a vampire, werewolf, ogre or troll. Any boogeyman would provide comic relief up against my real-world soul-suckers.

Thanksgiving instead

Fortunately, a devotional I read recently has been helping me turn on a nightlight in my soul.

It was a posting in Daily Guideposts by Daniel Schantz, who wrote about how he prepares to face the dark. At the end of a particularly bad day, he and his wife, Sharon, each try to name seven things they are thankful for. Their outlook always changes.

Thanking God is a corollary to counting your blessings. But it’s more fun to say out loud, “I thank God for …” and fill in the blank.

Joanna and I have been practicing this little exercise most nights while we wash our faces, brush our teeth (when the non-brushing spouse does all the talking) and pull back the covers.

We don’t count our thank-yous, but I’m guessing we surpass seven most nights. We’ve said thanks for everything from clear spring evenings, to Duck Dynasty, to what we had for dinner, to our girls and the rest of our family, to Lady Bears basketball, to electric toothbrushes, Raising Hope, good books and, of course, my dog, Topanga. Sometimes, we’re serious, but usually we wind up laughing. And always, we declare our undying, indefatigable thanks for each other. That’s an excellent thank-you to kiss on and turn out the light.

Thanking God for blessings doesn’t make pressures go away. But it certainly provides perspective on how to think about them. And it’s a superb set-up for a great night’s sleep.