Sunday, August 30, 2026

When Giving Is Not About Us

“But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” 

— Matthew 6:3–4

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks about something that is as relevant today as it was two thousand years ago: the temptation to turn goodness into a performance.

Jesus tells His followers, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them” (Matthew 6:1). He specifically speaks about giving to those in need, warning His listeners not to “sound a trumpet” when they give so that others will praise them. Instead, He tells us not to let our left hand know what our right hand is doing. Our generosity should come from a desire to help, not from a desire to be admired.

The same principle appears immediately afterward when Jesus talks about prayer. He warns against praying publicly simply so that others will notice how devout we are. Instead, He tells us to go into a private room, close the door, and pray to God in secret (Matthew 6:5–6). Later, He says much the same thing about fasting. In each case, the problem is not the act itself. The problem is making our faith into a performance.

I have been thinking about these verses in light of the life of Dolly Parton.

Dolly supported an extraordinary number of charitable causes throughout her life. Some were very public. Through her Imagination Library, millions of books have been given to children. She contributed to medical research, helped communities devastated by disaster, supported education, and used her fame to draw attention to people who needed help.

Yet there were also acts of generosity that received little attention, and there may well have been others that we will never know about. That seems appropriate. When Dolly did speak publicly about a cause, the purpose was often not simply to announce what she had done. She used the attention already focused on her to turn people’s eyes toward something that mattered. She encouraged others to care, to give, and to help.

There is an important difference between drawing attention to ourselves because we give and drawing attention to a need so that others will give.

Jesus makes that distinction clearer when we consider another passage from the Sermon on the Mount. In Matthew 5:16, He says, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

Few people had a light that shone brighter than Dolly Parton’s. Her talent made that light visible to the world, but her compassion showed us what she chose to do with it. She could use the attention that came with being Dolly Parton to make herself seem more important, or she could turn that attention toward someone who needed it. Again and again, she chose the latter. Her light did not become dimmer when she used it to illuminate the needs of others. It became brighter.

At first, Matthew 5:16 might seem to contradict Jesus’ warning just a few verses later about doing good deeds where others can see them. But the difference is found in who receives the glory.

Matthew 5 tells us to live in such a way that our goodness points beyond ourselves. Matthew 6 warns us against doing good so that people will praise us. One says, “Look at the good that can be done.” The other says, “Look at how good I am.”

That is a distinction worth remembering.

Jesus returns to the importance of caring for others in Matthew 25:31–46. In the parable of the sheep and the goats, He describes people who fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, welcomed the stranger, clothed those who needed clothing, cared for the sick, and visited those in prison. What is striking is that the righteous do not even seem to realize the significance of what they have done. They ask Jesus when they ever did these things for Him.

His answer is one of the most powerful teachings in the Gospel: “Just as you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).

They did not help because they expected recognition. They helped because someone was hungry. Someone was thirsty. Someone needed clothing. Someone was sick, lonely, imprisoned, or a stranger in need of welcome. They saw someone who needed help, and they helped.

That is what Christian charity should look like.

Most of us will never have Dolly Parton’s wealth or enormous public platform, but all of us have something we can give. It may be money. It may be our time. It may be a meal, a ride, a listening ear, an encouraging word, or simply noticing someone whom everyone else seems to overlook.

And sometimes no one else needs to know.

There is something beautiful about doing something kind that can never be repaid and may never even be acknowledged. There is no applause, no recognition, and no opportunity to tell everyone what a wonderful person we are. There is simply someone who needed help and someone who chose to help them.

God sees those moments.

And when circumstances give us an opportunity to speak publicly about something we have done, perhaps the question we should ask ourselves is not simply, Should I tell people? Instead, we might ask, Why am I telling them?

Am I pointing toward myself, or am I pointing toward the need?

Am I hoping people will admire my generosity, or am I hoping my example might inspire someone else to be generous?

Jesus never tells us to stop doing good because someone might see us. He tells us to examine why we are doing it in the first place.

And doing good does not always require money, a grand gesture, or even much of our time. Sometimes the smallest kindness can matter more than we realize. A genuine smile offered to someone who seems to be having a difficult day may be exactly the encouragement that person needs. A kind word, holding a door, asking someone how they are and actually listening to the answer—these things cost us nothing, yet we may never know how much they mean to the person who receives them. We do not have to change the whole world. Sometimes we are simply called to make one person’s world a little brighter.

Our generosity does not need a trumpet.

Sometimes the quietest acts of kindness speak the loudest—especially to the One who sees what is done in secret.

Saturday, August 29, 2026

Pic of the Day



Moment of Zen: Sweet Dreams

There’s something especially nice about waking from a sweet dream and realizing that, apparently, part of you wasn’t quite ready for it to end. Those mornings may come a little less frequently as the years go by, which just makes them all the more worth savoring.











Friday, August 28, 2026

Pic of the Day


Hanging in There

It’s Friday, and I’m hanging in there for just one more day. I just have to make it through today, and then the weekend can finally begin.

It’s been one of those weeks where I’m more than ready for a couple of days to relax, recharge, and not think too much about work. Thankfully, the finish line is in sight.

So, I’m hanging on and counting down the hours. TGIF! I hope everyone has a great Friday and an even better weekend!

Thursday, August 27, 2026

Pic of the Day


Hello, Hello, Hello

I have a doctor’s appointment this morning. I had planned to take the whole day off, but something came up at work, so I’ll have to go in for part of the day.

I was also off yesterday for my Botox appointment. I always take the whole day off when I have Botox treatments for my migraines because my head is almost always sore afterward. I’m sure anyone’s would be after 37 injections in the head, neck, and shoulders. Sometimes the soreness itself causes a headache, which was the case yesterday, so I was very glad I didn’t have to go back to work after the procedure.

Today’s appointment should be much easier. It’s just my regular checkup. I know some people hate going to the doctor, but I actually enjoy seeing mine. I really like him, and I can already hear him knocking on the exam room door and saying, “Hello, hello, hello,” as he walks in.

He’s a really nice guy, and he has been incredibly supportive of my health over the years. He’s been there for me through so much during the past ten years, through good times and bad, and I’ve always felt like he genuinely cares about how I’m doing. At this point, going for a checkup feels a little like seeing a friend you haven’t seen in a while.

Hopefully, everything will be good at my appointment, and then it’s off to work for the rest of the day. Not quite the day off I had planned, but at least tomorrow is Friday!

Wednesday, August 26, 2026

Pic of the Day


I Will Always Love You, Dolly

🩷 Dolly Parton πŸ¦‹ 1946-2026 🩷

Yesterday, the world lost one of its brightest stars.

Dolly Parton died at the age of 80, and while there have been celebrity deaths that have saddened me over the years, this one has hit me particularly hard. I have cried a lot since hearing the news. It feels strange to grieve someone I never knew personally, but I suspect millions of people around the world are feeling much the same way.

Most people knew Dolly as a singer, songwriter, actress, and entertainer. She gave us “Jolene,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “9 to 5,” and, of course, “I Will Always Love You.” She was one of the greatest songwriters country music ever produced, with an unmistakable voice, an unmistakable appearance, and that wonderful laugh that I think I will always hear whenever I picture her.

But Dolly Parton was so much more than an entertainer.

She founded the Imagination Library in 1995 because her father could not read or write. What began as an effort to provide books to children in her home county in Tennessee grew into an international program that has given hundreds of millions of books to children. She gave money to families who lost their homes in the devastating 2016 wildfires in East Tennessee. She supported hospitals, education, disaster relief, and countless other causes. During the COVID-19 pandemic, her $1 million donation to Vanderbilt University Medical Center helped fund research that contributed to the development of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine.

She didn’t just sing about making the world a better place. She put her money, her time, and her name behind actually doing it.

And now we know something that makes one of her final acts of generosity even more remarkable.

After Dolly’s death, it was revealed that she had been privately battling cancer. In January, to celebrate her 80th birthday, Dolly released a new version of “Light of a Clear Blue Morning,” joined by Lainey Wilson, Miley Cyrus, Queen Latifah, and Reba McEntire. The proceeds were designated for pediatric cancer research at Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt.

Dolly was fighting cancer herself, and she released a song to help children fighting cancer.

Someone writing about the song after her death put it perfectly: “Even while she was sick she was still thinking about others.”

That may be one of the best summaries of Dolly Parton I’ve heard.

Dolly promoted plenty of things during her long career. She was a brilliant entertainer and an equally brilliant businesswoman, and she certainly knew how to generate publicity. But some of the things that seemed to matter most to her—the things she did simply to help other people—were often done with surprisingly little fanfare.

Because the point wasn’t that Dolly Parton was helping.

The point was that someone needed help.

She didn’t announce that she was battling cancer when she released “Light of a Clear Blue Morning.” She didn’t make herself part of the story. She could easily have revealed her diagnosis and made the release about her own struggle with the disease. Instead, she directed the attention toward children with cancer and the doctors and researchers trying to save them.

Even at the end, when she had every reason to think about herself, Dolly was thinking about somebody else.

There is something almost unbearably beautiful about the song she chose, too. Dolly originally wrote “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” nearly fifty years ago as a song about emerging from darkness and believing that something brighter lies ahead. At 80 years old, while privately facing cancer, she returned to that message of hope—not to ask the world to hope for her, but to offer hope to others.

That was Dolly.

And for LGBTQ+ people, Dolly was something even more special.

Gay men have adored Dolly for generations. She knew it, joked about it, and embraced it. But underneath the rhinestones and jokes was something important: she embraced us.

Long before supporting LGBTQ+ people became commonplace among entertainers, Dolly made it clear that she wasn’t interested in judging people for whom they loved or who they were. After the horrific attack at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, she said something that, to me, sums up her attitude toward faith and other people better than almost anything else she ever said: “I am not God, I am no judge, I just know that God loves us all.”

Those are words a lot more Christians could stand to remember.

Dolly became one of our great heroes, one of our biggest divas, and one of the truest straight allies the LGBTQ+ community has ever had. I think part of the reason gay people loved her so fiercely was because Dolly understood something about being yourself in a world that constantly tells you how you’re supposed to be.

One of my favorite Dolly stories illustrates that perfectly. She used to tell about secretly entering a Dolly Parton look-alike contest at a gay club in Los Angeles. She exaggerated the Dolly look even further and entered alongside drag queens impersonating her.

And Dolly lost.

Nobody recognized that the real Dolly Parton was among them, and apparently the judges didn’t think Dolly made a particularly convincing Dolly. Instead of being offended, she thought the whole thing was hilarious. There is something wonderfully Dolly about losing a Dolly Parton look-alike contest to drag queens and turning it into one of your favorite stories to tell.

That sense of humor was such an important part of who she was. Dolly could laugh at herself endlessly, but I cannot remember ever hearing her publicly humiliate someone else for a laugh. She understood the difference between being funny and being cruel.

And nobody was more willing to make Dolly Parton the punchline than Dolly Parton.

She created an image that was deliberately over-the-top: the enormous blond wigs, the makeup, the rhinestones, the high heels, the famously exaggerated figure. She joked about all of it, usually at her own expense. She famously said that it cost a lot of money to look this cheap.

Yet underneath all that artifice was someone remarkably genuine.

Maybe that is one of the great lessons Dolly gave us. Authenticity doesn’t mean stripping away everything colorful or flamboyant about yourself. You can dress up. You can put on the wig. You can wear too much makeup and cover yourself in rhinestones. You can be outrageous and glamorous and larger than life—and still be completely, unapologetically yourself.

For someone whose public image was so carefully constructed, Dolly Parton may have been one of the most real celebrities we ever had.

And then there was Dolly’s faith.

Dolly grew up in the Church of God and spoke throughout her life about God, prayer, and the Christian faith that shaped her childhood. But as she grew older, her understanding of faith became broader and less tied to organized religion. In a 2024 interview, she even said, “I wouldn’t even say I’m religious, though I grew up with that background.” She spoke instead about a universal spiritual force that could be understood as God, Mother Nature, Father Time, or a higher wisdom.

And yet, for someone who hesitated to call herself religious, Dolly was one of the most Christ-like public figures I can think of.

She loved people. She accepted people. She gave generously. She helped those who were hurting. She encouraged children to learn. She treated people with dignity. And rather than appointing herself judge of people whose lives or beliefs differed from her own, she reminded us that God loves us all.

There are people who loudly proclaim their Christianity while devoting an extraordinary amount of energy to deciding whom God condemns. Dolly seemed far more interested in making sure people knew they were loved.

Perhaps Dolly’s faith didn’t fit neatly inside a particular religious box. I don’t think it needed to. When I think about Christ’s command to love our neighbors, care for those in need, and refrain from judging others, I can think of few people who lived those principles more publicly or more consistently than Dolly Parton.

She may not have called herself particularly religious.

But she certainly showed us what love looks like.

There is also one place where I know I will always think of Dolly. Anyone who has traveled I-65 into or out of Mobile, Alabama, probably knows the twin spans I’m talking about. I’ve never heard anyone call them anything but the “Dolly Parton Bridge”—or, more often, simply “the Dolly Partons.”

I’ve crossed the Dolly Partons hundreds of times in my life. They are one of those landmarks that have always just been there, part of the familiar landscape of home. The nickname is affectionate, a little irreverent, and very Alabama—and somehow Dolly seemed exactly the kind of person who could appreciate having a pair of bridges nicknamed for her cleavage.

Millions of people have crossed those bridges over the years, and millions more will cross them in the years to come. I suspect I’m not the only one who will think of Dolly when those great arches come into view.

I always have.

But from now on, I think I’ll smile a little differently when I see the Dolly Partons rising ahead of me. They’ll remind me of the wigs and rhinestones, the music, the generosity, that wonderful laugh, and most of all, the remarkable woman underneath it all.

Maybe that’s why this loss hurts as much as it does.

The world can feel increasingly cruel, angry, judgmental, and divided. Dolly somehow remained Dolly through all of it. She could walk into a room looking like she’d been dipped in a vat of rhinestones and still somehow make everything feel a little warmer.

She was funny without being cruel. She was glamorous without taking herself too seriously. She was enormously successful without forgetting people who had less. She had deeply held beliefs without needing to force them onto everyone else. And she understood that loving people was far more important than judging them.

She was truly one of a kind.

I know ending a remembrance of Dolly Parton with “I Will Always Love You” is probably the biggest clichΓ© imaginable. I’m sure those words have been repeated millions of times since the news broke.

But sometimes something becomes a clichΓ© because nothing else says it quite as well.

I will always love you, Dolly.

And somehow, despite the fact that you didn’t know most of us personally, I genuinely believe you loved us too. You certainly spent a lifetime showing us that you did.

Rest in peace, Dolly.

The world is a little less bright without you in it, but because of you, there will always be a light in the clear blue morning.