“But dad, you're supposed to say that about me because you're my dad.” 

You parents ever heard that one? 

Even if you're not a parent, I bet you've seen that scenario play out. I bet somewhere sometime recently someone you care about dismissed something you said or did because you are supposed to say or do it. 

“It's your job.”
“You're my mom.”
“You're a pastor.”
“You're a Christian.”
“You're just a good friend.”
“You're just being nice.”
“It's my birthday.” 

Wanted: Christians who are comfortable with snot tissues.

'Man, If I have to pick up another snot filled tissue I'm going to flip out'.

And I did.

I literally walked in my daughter's room and dropped all 5 million soaked tissues I picked around the house on her floor.

I've had enough. Really. Pick up your sick tissues please. Is that too much for this daddy to ask of his daughter?

It's not that I don't feel sympathy for her illness or I don't want her to be healthy. It's just that I really, really don't want to get sick. And with all germs she's leaving everywhere, I might as well declare not getting sick mission impossible.

I don’t know about you, but for me, sometimes it feels like life is kind of boring.

I spend a lot of time waiting to get to a certain place, or a certain moment,  because someone told me this was the moment to wait for — a graduation, a wedding, a promotion, a birthday, a vacation... the list goes on. 

But inevitably I make it to my moment, my destination, and I'm not as impressed as I wanted to be. 

Or, I am impressed, but it wears off quickly when I get hungry or tired or bored and want something new and shiny.

New jobs. New outfits. New apartments. New stuff. New relationships. We’re all waiting for the next thing to make our life exciting, to make it meaningful.

Have you ever felt like that?

Ready for your face to be melted with truth?

In case you missed the humbling pill of reality we all swallowed yesterday, here's the recap with a different spin. 

According to a professor at the University of Toledo, if NY to LA represented the distance in our galaxy (not our universe mind you, our galaxy), the earth would be a grain of rice somewhere in the middle of a random field in Kansas. 

You should read that again and this time feel free to let "awe" give your a soul a big old hug. 

A grain of rice in the middle of a random field in Kansas. That's the size of our earth in our galaxy. 

And you? Well, you and I would be like...