I remember the day each of our two kids left home for college.
First our daughter. Then our son.
Each goodbye was hard in its own way. But the goodbye that left the nest empty and silent was particularly solemn.
My son was a video game aficionado who repeatedly left the cabinet doors open below the TV, since that’s where he stored his gaming devices. I was constantly on him to close those doggone doors.
In the evening of the day he left, when it came time for me to relax a bit in front of the TV, I sat down in the recliner, looked at the closed cabinet doors, then got up and opened them.
Yeah, I really did that.
There’s a song in the Bible about what our kids mean to us. You’ll find it in Psalm 127.
“Look, kids are gifts from the LORD.
They are fruit of the flesh, your divine reward.
Children born to you when you’re young
Are like arrows in an archer’s hand.
That archer is one happy fellow
When his quiver is full.
Enemies don’t stand a chance
When your kids have your back.”
Family is our first and final line of defense against so much that can hurt us. It’s not something we have to strategize over. It comes naturally, built into the heart of who we are—or at least who we want to be.
And yet Psalm 127 gives us an unusual picture for describing our kids.
They’re arrows in our hands. But see them as more than that, don’t we?
We love them. We protect them. We prepare them as best we can.
And then, eventually, we let them fly.
The Casual English Bible®
When I started paraphrasing what eventually became The Casual English Bible,® it was something just for me—a private devotional experiment with Genesis.
But I fell in love with turning the sometimes hard-to-understand Bible into easy-reading English. I’ve always written that way because I was taught to write that way.
Newswriting 101, day one: The professor said, “When you write that news article, write it as though the reader just got here from Mars.”
I have written that way ever since.
Google me and you’ll see AI and others describe me as someone who makes the Bible “accessible.” That word adds a little polish to what I really do.
I simply write for Martians.
Always have, since that day in class.
The song: Whippoorwill
On Friday, October 9, we release the single “Whippoorwill (Psalm 127),” a new AI-performed song I wrote about the love we have for our kids—and the way it hurts to see them leave.
It grew out of Psalm 127 and that picture of children as arrows.
I sent the song out recently to playlist curators, people who decide which songs they want to add to their constantly changing collections.
It’s still early, but I’ve already received some acceptances and some rejections—which is pretty much how this business works.
One curator liked the song but thought it leaned too heavily toward contemporary Christian music for his playlist.
Another praised the guitar work, arrangement and production, but thought the drums didn’t quite fit the mood of his collection.
Fair enough.
Then came some acceptances.
CazMusic added it to Indie Pop Bliss.
A curator for Starlit Melody wrote:
“This vocal is probably one of the most beautiful and soulful ones I have ever heard.... The lyrics are so lovely and I love the concept and structure of them.”
And Folk & Soft Rock Route wrote:
“The intimate arrangement has a beautiful sensibility that’s a pleasure to listen to. Every detail is crafted with delicacy, while the rhythmic progression carries the track along in a natural and engaging way.”
I’ll take that.
Especially for a song that began with something as simple—and as painful—as watching your kids grow up and leave home.
The music video premieres at 10 a.m. on Friday, October 9. It features photos and video from the Miller family archives.
Mapping the Bible—and more
Meanwhile, there’s a lot happening with The Casual English Bible.
Proofreading is well underway.
And we have a company doing hands-on search engine optimization to help Google and other search engines find our material. It’s expensive, but necessary if we want people who are looking for this kind of help to actually find us.
I also have a college student helping finish the job of loading all of our individual Bible maps onto the Casual English Bible website. That will allow people to find and download individual map PDFs rather than buying an entire collection.
Of course, every single map needs its own informative product page.
A royal Google pain in the neck.
I’m also personally upgrading our Bible-book map collections, from Genesis to Revelation.
The first editions were mostly maps with a few short captions. The new versions are becoming something more—maps surrounded by articles and background information that help readers understand what they’re looking at and why it matters.
I’m starting with the individual books of the Bible. Once that work is done, I’ll be able to bring those improvements into our full collection, which we recently renamed The Complete Bible Map Library.
It will take months.
Here’s the new look we’re developing with the maps for Mark.
And today I sent off a grant application seeking help to continue some of this work.
That’s another kind of letting go.
You do the work. You make the best case you can. You hit Send.
And then it’s out of your hands.
We’ll see what happens.
A thank-you that’s coming
You know those Christian book racks you see in airports, rest stops, and drugstores?
They’re managed by a distributor called Choice Books.
In a few weeks, I’ll be going to their company retreat near Baltimore to thank them for what they’ve done to put my books into the hands of exactly the people I’ve always written for—especially people outside the faith.
Those books include The Complete Guide to the Bible and Who’s Who & Where’s Where in the Bible.
This is not something I normally do.
I’m a writer-writer, not a speaker-writer.
But they asked me to come, and I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to thank them for getting those books into the hands of the people I have in my head while I write.
I’ll probably mess up.
I just don’t want to mess up so badly that they miss the gratitude I’m trying to express.
That happens Friday morning, October 23, so we still have time to file a few prayer requests.
I believe those matter.
They mattered to ailing King Hezekiah.
I believe they can matter for me, too.
The election
In my books and in The Casual English Bible, I don’t tell people what to think or what to do, especially about controversial stuff—religious or secular.
But in these personal blog articles, I’m not shy about saying when I believe something is wrong.
I believe our country is going through a dangerous time. People are angry. People are hurting. People are dying—some murdered in the street by officers hired to protect us.
Our foundational institutions are being tested and even bullied and attacked. I don’t think we can simply assume that somebody in Congress, the courts, or anywhere else is going to straighten out this mess for us. After all, we voted ourselves into it.
In a democracy, eventually it all comes back to ordinary people.
And especially in troubled times like this, when danger has settled in for a long and cold winter, it seems nothing much changes until the people speak up.
In a few weeks, it’s our turn. We are the people. We own the halls of Congress. The White House is our house. We choose the people we send there and the leaders we entrust with power.
I think most folks are beginning to realize how much we have lost in such a short time.
So, please read widely.
Listen critically.
Check the facts yourself.
Pray, if you still can.
Then vote like yours is the vote that will set the course for our kids and our grandkids, and for ourselves least of all.
Peace to you.
