Tom's Blogz

Gratitude. Looking back on everything in this blog, it’s kind of crazy how many different moments are captured here. Some big, some small, some that felt meaningful at the time, and others that only became meaningful after reflecting on them. The very first post started with a sunset, and one of the last ones returned to that same idea. In between, there were runs along the Trinity River , stories about trees, a marathon, Broken Bow, Bolivia, and just everyday moments that didn’t seem like much at first. But looking at it all together, there’s a pattern. Whether it was something big, like a marathon or traveling somewhere new, or something simple, like walking outside, being with friends, or even just noticing the way trees grow, it all comes back to the same idea. Finding gratitude in both the big moments and the mundane ones. That applies to this class too. Getting to spend time outside, cutting bamboo for a couple of hours, sitting around with candy talking about Edward Abbey , ...

Why do the most beautiful sunsets always happen in parking lots? Here’s one I recently saw. The sun literally lit up the entire sky. And I’ll make one correction, this was actually a sunrise, but the point still stands. Some of the best skies I’ve seen have been in the most random, mundane places. And then I think about times I’ve been somewhere “supposed” to be beautiful. Hiking in Colorado, traveling somewhere new, expecting something incredible. And sometimes… it’s just normal. No dramatic sky, no crazy colors, just average. The answer is pretty obvious. We spend most of our lives in ordinary places, so that’s where we actually witness things. But I think there’s something deeper in that. When we go out searching for beauty, we bring expectations with us. We want the moment to be impressive. But when we’re in a parking lot, or walking to class, or just existing, there’s no expectation. So when something beautiful happens, it feels like a surprise. It’s easy to forget how much of...

I went home for Easter, and I was honestly really excited. I left early, on Thursday, and wasn’t coming back until Sunday. It felt like a good break from everything going on at school. But before we even left, things started going wrong. Our flight, which wasn’t until around 5 p.m., got delayed earlier that day. Then another hour. Then another. By the time we got to the airport, it just kept getting pushed back. Eventually, we boarded around 11 p.m., took off, and about an hour into the flight, they told us we had to turn around. Something with air traffic control and weather. We flew all the way back to Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport , landed around midnight, and the flight got canceled. Everyone was in line trying to figure things out, and somehow, right when we got to the front, a new flight opened at 5 a.m. So we stayed in the airport all night, sleeping on the ground, going back and forth for food, half-awake the whole time. Eventually, we made it home... On Sunday, bef...

I signed up for this camping trip about three months in advance. At the time, I was like, you know what, I don’t know, it sounds fun. And then as the weeks went on, life got busy. School, exams, being out of town, spring break the week before, fraternity events, formals. It got to the point where I was like, it would be really nice to just have a weekend by myself. But I had already committed to this trip, so I had to go. At first I was frustrated. I later realized I was missing things like my last Neeley Fellows formal, and some fraternity events. However, the trip was in Broken Bow , with some really good friends. We left late and got there around 10 p.m. At that point, I was coming from being at school all day, sitting at my computer, not doing much that was actually active. Just classes, work, workouts here and there, but nothing like this. We pulled in, and it was completely dark. But I got out of the car, and that’s when everything kind of shifted. The air was fresh, probably ...

The trip to Bolivia is one of those experiences that feels hard to capture all at once. It wasn’t just one moment, but a collection of them, spread across long, hot days in a place that felt both simple and unfamiliar. It was my first mission trip, and before we even started going door to door, I remember feeling a quiet sense of fear. Not the kind that stops you, but the kind that sits in the background. I wasn’t afraid of the people themselves, but of how we might be perceived. I didn’t want to come across as pushy or misunderstood. There’s always that thought in the back of your mind, that someone might look at you and think you’re out of place, or doing something unnecessary. One of the days, we stopped at a home where an older woman came out to meet us. She was gentle, and almost immediately, she shared that she had been dealing with pain in her head for years. There wasn’t much we could do in a practical sense, but we gathered together to pray with her. As we stood there, some...