Yes to Sunday naps.
Yes to old family recipes, and yes to seeing her right now, like she was, there at the kitchen sink, in her everyday cotton apron.
A small yes to any smile; a big Yes to sincere smiles.
Yes to peacemakers. There’s a reason you got a Blessed Are in the Sermon On The Mount.
No to politicians, yes to statesmen. One needs a job, the other needs a cause.
Yes To More Yes
Yes to the sincerity of a dog’s tail wag. Yes to the enthusiasm of a child.
Yes to I-Do’s when love is young, but those I-Do’s bow low, and speak in whispers, in the presence of a casket where elders have walked I-Do all the way to death-do-us-part.
Yes to feeling lucky; if you believe in lucky you believe in unlucky, and we’re happy for you, when imaginary dice roll your way.
And a Big Yes for those who were plowed under by the bad licks of hard times, and ascend from Bottoms with toughness, grace, confidence and humility. We don’t want to wear your shoes, but you’ve earned the right to scout the trail, and be the first footsteps on the path.
Yes to the questioners; you annoy the hell out of us, but there are no answers when nobody is questioning.
Yes To Getting Smart, Eventually
Entertainment everywhere, but we hold our Yes for things that say something of value.
Yes to old memories, even if they make us reach for tissue.
And Yes to tears. Those who don’t cry think crying is a loss; those who do think crying is a gain. Having been both, I vote wet, in moderation.
Yes to paid off. A card, a car, a house, nothing smells as fresh as the zero balance smell.
Yes to finding your place in this big world. It seems so cozy when you finally find your little piece of an acre.
If there is an overused word, it’s Love. Yes to saying it less, but feeling it true.
Yes to sunrises, mockingbirds, and first cup of coffee.
Yes to sundown, when God lets baby angels play with His crayons.
Yes to Amazing Grace in the chapel. Yes to Taps at the cemetery.
Yes to confidence, but only to confidence earned. You’re not qualified for confidence until you’ve learned humility.
Yes to home. (Wasn’t three words enough?)
Yes Is Rarely Less
Yes to old recipes.
Yes to pressed flowers in a family Bible.
Yes to old people with the same phone number from when you were a kid.
Yes to Going Back and still seeing your old landmarks. Yes to Going Back and measuring your change.
Yes to excellence. Good comes easy, and average just comes. Do something excellent, or better yet, be excellent at something.
On the other hand, Yes to our imperfections. If they all went away tonight we wouldn’t know who we were tomorrow.
Yes To Education
Yes too speling write. Yes too speling rong but speeking truthe.
Yes to the things you learn outside of school. When your grandfather said, “That dog don’t hunt,” he was talking about more than retrievers.
Yes to dignity. Despite our last ten unimpressive moments, He still thinks we’re worth John 3:16.
Yes to old dogs, and children, and watermelon wine…and people who compose lyrics like, “wake me up early, be good to my dogs, and teach my children to pray.”
Yes to saying no, when people are trying to box us in to something we’re uncomfortable with. Yes to saying yes, when we’re being asked to leave our harbor, and take our ship to sea.
Yes to the gift of life. To have ever been, to still be, that is no small thing. Who are we, to merit these moments?
Yes to gratefulness. In the same way that a grain of sand in the shoe starts to feel like a rock, so a chip on the shoulder starts to feel like carrying a telephone pole.
Yes to saying yes, when saying no would only be because of laziness, fear, or rut.
All great marriages begin with Yes. So too do bitter divorces. Moral: there’s more to a good yes than good intentions.
Yes to nature, the original education and entertainment programming of life on earth.
Yes to saving your bullets. People only take you serious on the first thing you’re outraged about. For better or worse, Colin Kaepernick will spend the rest of his life with no bullets in his gun.
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This edition of Uncle P’s Bedtime Stories is brought to you by Eighty-one, where coincidentally, yes, the free stuff usually sells before we open.
Uncle P’s Bedtime Stories can be found on the Eighty-one Facebook page. People wishing to thank the cook or tip the waiter may reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.