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50 years ago today, Sarah Lee Stone, now known as Good Wife, and I had our first date at The Carpenters concert, University of Dayton Arena. Sarah wore pink, but I have no idea what Karen Carpenter wore.

We were 19-yr-old sophomores who’d met a year before at a huge bonfire by the lake during freshman orientation at Cedarville University. Though we dated others that year we began talking on the phone late at night soon after, sometimes for hours. So we had probably bonded without knowing it by the time we had that first date.

The girl I had dated a couple times opted out of the concert. Fantastic. I didn’t have money, athletic prowess, or high-rent looks, but hey, I had leverage, a car thanks to Dad and two tickets, so I gave it a shot, asking the girl-dating-someone-else who I wanted to ask in the first place. Hence Sarah's and my first date.

So, we met our freshman year, started dating our sophomore year, broke up our junior year, and got engaged our senior year, like a lot of others who arrived on campus as singles but by the time they left walked around two-by-two like Noah’s Ark. Summer before senior year I proposed while we stood barefoot in a creek rushing down the side of a mountain.

Since that night 50 years ago my life has been enriched in every way, thanks to the divine gift of a girl who grew up in WV, about 2.5 hours south of me in OH. God is good.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2021    

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Today is our 40th Anniversary. Hard to believe Sarah and I have been married for forty years, but here we are. 

We’ve been blessed beyond measure, first in the Lord bringing us together in college (We met Freshman year, started dating Sophomore year, broke up Junior year, and got engaged Senior year—a pretty typical sequence for a couple figuring out what “getting serious” means), and second for the years of love, caring, great relationship, and much more.

Like most good marriages involving human beings our “wedded bliss” hasn’t always been blissful, but it’s always been characterized by love, commitment, and respect. In my book, this translates to bliss no matter how the word is defined.

Through this marriage God gave us four children, a daughter and three sons. Now we add a good, hard-working, and committed son-in-law, two wonderful and gracious daughters-in-law, and four noisy grandsons. Add to this in the last two years: two teenage boys from China, adopted first by our friends and then by us as grandsons. Lots of boys and as yet no little girls, but we’ll see what the future holds.

Sarah is Proverbs 31 come to life. As a person and as a wife she is everything a man and specifically I could ever want, need, or imagine. She is kind, caring and compassionate, clearly possesses the gift of hospitality, and would help anyone anywhere anytime if she could. She has been and is an amazing Mother and Grandmother.

For all this I am grateful to her and I praise the Lord. I’d marry her all over again. In fact, I’d marry her every day.

Thank you, Sarah. I love you. I look forward to every minute the Lord gives us past 40 years.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2014    

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Most men I know love their wives. But honoring them, as the Scripture commands (1 Peter 3:7), is generally if ironically more challenging for a lot of men.

Here's more on the subject:

© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2012

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Remember SALT? Not the recent movie called “Salt” featuring Angelina Jolie. No, the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks of the 1960s-1980s. It’s when the US and USSSR decided it was better to talk than shoot at one another. Later we had the Summit Talks when Reagan and Gorbachev conducted a series of, “Well”—to use Ronald Reagan’s term, “talks.”

Maybe Gradparents and Grandkids should hold Summit Talks? I recently wrote about both sides’ views. For more, check these articles:

Five Things Grandparents Wish Their Grandkids Knew

Five Things Grandkids Wish Their Grandparents Knew

“Talk is cheap,” they say. But then again, who is this “They” that seems to influence our lives so often? Doesn’t matter much what “They” say. Matters what we, in this case Grandparents and Grandkids, say to each other.

Held any Summit Talks recently?


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2012

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Rex or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow him at

Both of my parents turned 80 years of age this year, Dad during the summer, Mom today. They have been and are good parents by any objective measure.

So on this Thanksgiving Day I am thankful for God’s gift of good parents, something for which I can take no credit. It’s purely God’s blessing, my parents’ grace, and my benefit.

Both of my parents have been Christian people since their youth, and they both introduced me to the faith as a child and took me to every conceivable church event since I was born. What I’m saying is that I grew up in a “Christian home” in the best sense of the phrase.

I never had to doubt my parents’ love, commitment, “being there,” or support. These things were a given, and they continue to be so. They disciplined me as a kid, taught me right from wrong and pushed me toward the right even when I’d have preferred the wrong.

My parents aspired to my higher education before I did, and they paid for much of it. They wanted me to go to a Christian institution of higher learning long before I considered the issue one way or another. They prayed for me to “find” a Christian wife before I got around to thinking about it and before the Lord sent the right one into my life, again without me having much to do with it.

My parents have been faithful church attenders, participators, and leaders for more than sixty years. They lived out the Christian faith, thus providing an unwavering example for me, of course, but for any and everyone who cared to pay attention. No one ever fairly doubted their word or integrity. No one ever had reason to question their faithful motives and generous good works.

Assuming you were blessed with good parents, and not everyone was or is by a sad long shot, but if you were, how do you pay them back? How is it possible to repay someone who has invested an entire life into your life and who in large part helped make you what you are, or at least what you can be?

I think there’s only one way. The only way you can repay good parents is to attempt to live by the values they hold dear, to live as they hoped you would live. If you do this you perpetuate their values and their goals into the third and the fourth generation. You affirm and honor the wisdom of how they’ve chosen to live. You extend their legacy.

I haven’t robbed banks or done physical harm to anyone, thankfully, but then again, I don’t offer myself as a model of the best Christian living. But I do remember, consciously or at times subconsciously, what my parents taught me by word and deed and I’ve tried to live to that standard. Better yet, my wife and I have passed my parents’ Christian values to our own children and they are living out their faith.

Parents, including good ones, don’t all get the privilege of turning 80. But when they do it is a good thing to celebrate long lives lived as unto the Lord. These are my parents, good parents at 80. These are people who have nothing to be ashamed of and who’ve blessed me, my sister, our families, and many more. Now they are modeling how to “finish well” and God grant that as long as he gives me to live I will walk in their footsteps.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2011

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Parenting is, I’m afraid, a dying art. At least it seems that way whenever I walk among the masses, watch, listen, and wonder.

I don’t know everything there is to know about rearing children well, and I certainly was not a perfect father; in fact, far from it. But thanks in large measure to a good mother our four children, now up and out, are good, well balanced, thinking young adults who, if I died today, would do well in the world without me. I am grateful to the Lord and my wife and my kids for this. And along the way I learned a little about parenting.

What makes me think parenting is a dying art is what I see and hear just about every time I take a trip. Here are a few wonders just this week:

--Ambling through a store I see a 10-11 year-old boy with his mother. As I walk by I hear the boy use language with and at his mother that blows my hat back. Mother ignores him. Where did this kid learn to talk like that? And why on earth does his mother put up with it? Does she think he’ll simply grow out of the attitudes underlying the vocabulary? Does she think his choice of words is appropriate, good, and good for him? I don’t get it.

--Sitting in a restaurant we see a family approach the counter to order pizza. One teenage son is dressed in jeans so tight you can see every outline of his anatomy. Another perhaps 12 year-old son is wearing a t-shirt proclaiming in large letters “I Love Boobies.” Mom and Dad seem oblivious, which I guess is the problem. Do they really believe how their sons dress is admirable? Do they think how their sons dress is good for them or funny? I don’t get it.

--Walking down the street we’re approached by a family of five, parents probably in their early 40s, three daughters. Each daughter is dressed in a manner prominently exposing, let us say, frontage. Little is left to the imagination. Is this bold immodesty the mother and father’s vision for their girls? Or do the parents believe cutting edge fashion outweighs all other considerations? If the parents don’t like how their daughters are dressing, are they so powerless as to lack any influence upon them at all? I don’t get it.

--Sitting on a ferryboat awaiting departure we watch a family board and sit two rows behind us: mother-now-grandmother, two adult sisters, and four young children belonging to one or both sisters. The younger sister is irate, proclaiming loudly to her sister how she wasn’t awakened soon enough, had not been given any help, was somehow peeved because they were rushed getting on the boat, etc. Mother-Grandmother says, “I’m staying out of this.” Older sister verbally hits back, though not quite so loudly. Younger won’t let it go. This goes on for perhaps five minutes not only in the hearing of everyone near the stern but, more grievously, in the hearing of all the children, who watched with eyes big and mouths, and more importantly, ears open. How could the sister-mothers miss the fact that their kids were getting a lesson in how not to manage anger? Couldn’t their issue have been handled privately? How will the kids act the next time they’re upset? Bigger question: why did Mother-Grandmother let her “kids” do that? I don’t get it.

Not all parents, thankfully, are like this. But in my estimation far too many are abdicating their parental responsibilities, or at least are approaching parenting with a form of presumed powerlessness our grandparents’ generation wouldn’t recognize. I don’t get it.

Children are sponges. They soak up what’s around them. Children are world-class mimics. They imitate whatever is put in front of them. In other words, they'll do what they see and they'll do what parents let them do. Children find security in being given wise and loving instruction, even when they say and act otherwise. In the end, children are best-loved by parents who set good and high standards, model those standards in their own lives, and expect the children to do the same. It works. It’s good for the kids. I get that.


© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2011

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Rex or read more commentary on current issues and events at or follow him at