I bought a one bedroom home because it’s compact, quick to clean, and I can’t hoard too much stuff in it.
That said, while my best friend and I each live alone in our own homes, we spend weekends at mine because for a decade or more we were roommates in a two bedroom with Butch and we still enjoy our Three’s Company routine all together.
We all sleep in the same bed each night where the only kissing, touching and loving involves Butch who is pretty insistent on it.
Our arrangement often raises questions, eyebrows and disbelief in others except for us.
We get to enjoy our friendship and share love with our four-legged other best friend all day and nobody needs to miss a good night’s sleep banished to a sofa because of someone else’s eyebrows.
Nobody recoils at a fart or a foot touch and they both take all the covers since I sleep hot year-round.
Maybe we take best friends to a whole new comfort level for some but it’s how we roll and get to be roommates once again, even if just for a couple days a week.
They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”
John 4:35, 42 NIV
Seeing is believing, but blessed are those who don’t see and yet believe.
The Samaritan woman at the well had a story to tell that changed her prospects of forever.
First thing she did was to share her experiences with others, unconcerned about what they might think of her.
No edits. No pauses. No concern for herself. Only that she possessed a life-changing experience which compelled her to want the same for those she cared about.
Waiting for the promised Messiah was over.
Hard enough to believe that a Jew would even consider holding a fraternizing conversation with a Samaritan—and a woman at that—hearers of her account had plenty reason to believe she’d lost all her marbles or something funny was in her well water.
But her very personal account that had disclosed her sin promised the acceptance and forgiveness for which she’d undoubtedly yearned.
“Take it or leave it, this just happened to me.”
Our very personal encounter with the living Christ is our take it or leave it story to share.
It’s not our place to argue its veracity, only to present it at the feet of others and to watch the spirit of God move in hearts and minds of others.
Seeing is believing, but blessed are those who don’t see and yet believe.
I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things?
John 3:12 NIV
Faith begins with trust in the simple, foundational truths before God reveals deeper insights.
We must learn the alphabet before we are able to read.
The meat of God’s word is found in reading the Bible and comprehending the message in its context, geopolitics, and history. A hefty study indeed.
We all have scrolled into a teacher or truth well beyond letters of the alphabet and the light suddenly comes on.
Here was Nicodemus, a trained teacher of the law, encountering an entirely new message and without having already established a personal relationship with Jesus, he was in the dark.
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 NIV
Without a John 3:16 moment, the world fails to understand or embrace the testament of Jesus and his enlightened followers.
We are called to show others the ABCs of our faith and the Holy Spirit will take it from there and teach them to read.
I was triggered when my friend turned on the first episode of one of those self-selecting team survival shows when after 15 picks, one person remained alone on the line unselected.
From as early as I can remember, whether among the neighborhood kids or in my schools I was always the last pick.
It does something tragic to the development of a little boy considered a liability when all you want is for someone to believe in you. To choose you. To want you.
This was such a pattern in my developmental history I’m surprised I haven’t shared this story until now.
I’ve never been athletic or gifted with obvious skills and have since counted myself among the freaks and oddities like a misfit toy on Christmas island.
Later in life, to encounter the love and acceptance of a supremely gifted stranger who chose me first to be on His team was literally the answer to my lifelong prayer.
Jesus knew my worth and giftedness and I had finally found a place where I belonged, oddities and all.
Dear Members of the Board of Regents and UNLV Leadership,
As a proud graduate of UNLV’s Class of 1984 and 1989, I write to you not only as an alum, but as the son of the man who created one of the most iconic and beloved symbols of our university — the Hey Reb! mascot. Bring Him Back!
My father, Mike Miller, was a gifted, Disney-trained artist who devoted much of his life to enriching the cultural and visual identity of Las Vegas. In 1982, he was asked to create a new mascot for UNLV that would be free of the Confederate symbolism of earlier figures, but still embody the rebellious, independent spirit that defined UNLV’s origins and student body. What he gave the university — for just $1 — was a character drawn from the lore of the American West: a mountain man, a trailblazer, a fearless symbol of boldness and individuality. Hey Reb! wasn’t just a cartoon — he was the spirit of Southern Nevada made visible.
This wasn’t just a design job to my dad. It was personal. He was deeply inspired by the grit and creativity of early settlers, pathfinders, and yes, rebels — not of war, but of spirit. The name Hey Reb! was intentionally playful, inviting, and inclusive. When the mascot made his debut at the UNLV-UNR basketball game in 1982, he was met with celebration from students, athletes, alumni, and the wider Las Vegas community. And once again, at last night’s UCLA v UNLV football game, the spirit of Hey Reb! was reawakened with a fervor.
For decades, Hey Reb! stood proudly as a unifying symbol on our campus. His image appeared in national commercials, championship celebrations, and even inspired a life-size bronze statue funded by alumni. In 2011, my father was formally recognized by the UNLV Alumni Association for his contribution, and Hey Reb! stood beside him at the Thomas & Mack Center — a moment we, as a family, will never forget.
My father passed away in 2014 after a battle with cancer. We were honored to have Hey Reb! attend his memorial service. To this day, seeing that mascot reminds us of him — of his heart, his art, and his deep love for UNLV.
Unfortunately, in recent years, Hey Reb! was removed amid public misunderstanding and misinformation — often based on an assumption that he bore Confederate ties. But the truth, as documented in the official 2015 diversity report commissioned by UNLV and led by Dr. Rainier Spencer, could not be clearer:
“The Hey Reb! mascot was designed expressly to be an 1800s Las Vegas pathfinder and to not have any Confederate connection whatsoever… His clothing is Western, not Confederate… The historical record shows this to be an erroneous claim.”
The report also emphasized that the Rebels identity — including the mascot — never represented racism or racial exclusion. In fact, Nevada Southern (UNLV’s predecessor) was racially integrated from its early years and stood in contrast to the segregation that marked much of the South during the same period. As one African American UNLV alum put it in the report: “We were proud to be Rebels… there was never any racist undertone.”
So now, I ask you — not just as a son and an alum, but as someone who has watched a piece of our university’s authentic, homegrown identity be erased — to reconsider and restore the original Hey Reb! mascot. Bring back the symbol that was created not in hate, but in hope; not with exclusion, but with inspiration.
In doing so, you will not only honor the truth, the art, and the spirit of Mike Miller’s creation, but you will also honor the UNLV community — past, present, and future — who still see Hey Reb! as a source of pride, unity, and school spirit.
The time is right. The support is growing. And UNLV, once again, has the opportunity to be a bold leader in reclaiming its own history with clarity and courage.
With gratitude and Rebel pride, Donald Stewart Miller UNLV Class of 1984 & 1989 Son of Hey Reb! creator Mike Miller
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”
2 Corinthians 4:16 NIV
While aging is served at our table with sides of illness, fragility, and wrinkles, being up in years also yields dessert portions of maturity and wisdom.
Inward growth is our senior superpower.
As an elder now, I have greater confidence and clarity on issues and the most important things I had always sought when I was a younger man.
Renewal of mind, position and purpose are commodities traded for beauty, agility, and all the passing attributes of youth we once cherished.
When I depart, I’ll take a renewed mind and leave a renewed philosophy for the world to remember me by.
Not a bad trade for the end game if you ask me.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2 Corinthians 4:4 NIV
Few things are more frustrating than trying to persuade another who will not see your point of view.
‘Will not’ is worse than ‘cannot’ because while they can still see clearly with their eyes, they choose to remain blind to thinking themselves toward a different conclusion.
20/20 vision doesn’t necessarily result in a 20/20 decision.
To be truly open minded happens only when we opt to continue to reason to the observable conclusions of our five senses and subject our findings to moral and ethical standards. And even then, understanding that our internalized morals and ethics are also largely learned early on from other people’s life and experiences and enlightenment to a spiritual dimension purely by being a creation of God.
It’s complicated for sure. But fortunately, we are only responsible for presenting truths, not for the changes and decisions which may result.
Therefore, becoming frustrated is the wrong response.
“and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.””
John 2:9-10 NIV
https://bible.com/bible/111/jhn.2.9-10.NIV
Jesus doesn’t just provide for what is needed, he provides the very best.
He meets our needs, then exceeds our expectations.
Another way of looking at this first recorded of his many miracles is that while life under the law produced good living, life in Jesus produces the best.
No matter how you view it, the miracle of turning water into wine wasn’t about the miracle itself but that life with belief in Christ produces the very best you can be.
Your body is up to 80% water until touched by the hand of Jesus, at which point you transform into the best version of yourself.
Thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. 2 Corinthians 2:14 NIV
When I worked retail, some guy in my vicinity was wearing the most attractive fragrance I’d never smelled before.
I sniffed him out to ask the brand name, entranced by the aroma and as it turns out, I wasn’t alone.
He’d already exited into the mall when I stopped him to ask.
He named the fragrance for me and laughed that I’d been the third person who’d asked that day.
For the life of me I don’t recall the brand some 40 years later but it was unique enough to follow and embolden my inquiry of a complete stranger.
I’d have bought the scent from his coat pocket right there at any price if he’d had a bottle on him.
Today, the memory of that encounter with a stranger still serves as a metaphor of how I hope my life as a follower of Christ might attract those who are seeking the life that I have found.
The latent effects of a decade on drugs seem to be synching with an otherwise age appropriate period of rapid cognitive decline.
Not sure which is the culprit anymore, but both appear to be working overtime to create this bumbling old fool from Saturday morning cartoons I once feared I might become.
Downhill more rapidly than I would like at this age, I’m on a fast track to Mr. Magoo and not enjoying the ride much at all.
Consequences aren’t entirely tragic though.
Mr. Magoo was an affable man with a huge and beautiful heart.
