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© Jeff Bender
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Welcome to Knee Deep, a five-minute story in a cup. It’s light, not too deep, with just enough of the tide washing in to reset your day and help you get back on your feet. Wade in with me. Hear a funny tale, or my observations on life under the surface.
I’m Jeff Bender, author and artist, thinker of Knee Deep thoughts.
So, you’ve rushed out of the house and spilt your coffee down the front of your shirt. The news cycle is heavy, the traffic's honking and, well, you just want to stick your feet in the sand and chill. Relax with a fresh story each week! Wade in... without being overwhelmed.
I’m Jeff Bender, author and artist, thinker of Knee Deep thoughts.
So, you’ve rushed out of the house and spilt your coffee down the front of your shirt. The news cycle is heavy, the traffic's honking and, well, you just want to stick your feet in the sand and chill. Relax with a fresh story each week! Wade in... without being overwhelmed.
118 Episodes
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Alone in the Arctic. Starving. Cold. Lonely. As long as we had our couch, our TV and each other, there'd be no tapping out.
In the middle of Winter, we find ourselves in a spot where our balance is shaky. We are in the in-between, the part that is drifting and loose as we wait for new beginnings. A toy robot, Mr. Machine, shows us what is happening in that space, and he stands ready to kick things into gear in the midst of our drift, the drift of Winter.
We get our share of snow dustings here in EvanspatchIndiana, little false starts, but the real stuff does crazy things to us whenit comes. It changes our DNA. We return to some primordial state. We shift into anxiety mode and believe it is our responsibility to add to the general sense of panic and mayhem in the community. We don’t know what to do exactly, but whatever it is, we will need a map and a bread and milk sandwich.
Sometimes we have to get very small to become available for the season of Christmas. If we don’t, we may miss that first hint of magic that is in the air and a small miracle that is within our grasp.
Having your tonsils removed may be the first time we realized we don’t get to keep everything we get. Even so, I thought Show and Tell might delay the process, even celebrate it, when I brought what had been removed from my throat to school in a jar.
The loud and the brash may tell us that we have much to fear. Yet just down the block the church bells chime softly, reminding us that hope is alive and singing. We can hear it if we open our front door and let it in.
Here in the Midwest, we don’t like a lot of change. We arein the middle, not on the edge. We like variety, but we like our constants more. So, when our cross-town highway started to go sideways this summer we began to retreat to our alternative roads, the ones less travelled…
Fear of heights in this country is pretty common – like sixout of every ten people, but what about fear of heights and tall bridges and really large people and semi-trucks and losing your pants in public, and…?
In the leading us besides still waters, God does not turnaround and lead us out on thin ice. How do we measure God’s goodness and mercy? We can look, as the young shepherd David told us in Psalm 23, to the enduring evidence of God’s stability in still waters and green pastures, and place us on more solid ground.
Everyone loves a dark horse. IU’s winning football season has swept everyone off their couches into the winning zone of state pride. We buried our heads in some infertile turf over the last five decades, waiting and hoping for a winning season, and we are ready to show the world Hoosier Daddy.
What is up with the word “sick” anyway? I’m sorry but there was not a chance on God’s green earth that I was going to adopt that word when I had an entire history of awesome words to choose from. Yet, 2026 needed a different slant. Maybe it was time I abandoned my favorite exclamations for something really cool.
“I like you the most when… Always stay sweet…Remember mewhen you are famous.” Usually we read these messages on yearbooks this time as school closes and summer begins. I saw them all flash by meon a pink Cadillac recently and began to think the message for my future might be in for a long ride...
There’s all kinds of great sayings out there about thedifference between having good sight and good vision. One is physical of course, the other touches on our dreams and goals. Yet, when you have to wear bifocals, good sight and a healthy vision can overlap like in this story, and become an embarrassing blur…
The smallest spaces are the universes we stop to peerinto. They are made from beetles and Hosta and partly watched TV shows. Try this on: “You go ahead of me, I’m in no hurry,” and watch a slow walk become a new universe appear before your eyes.
When my father passed away last week I imagined him finally meeting all of his golf heroes in Heaven's pro shop who would help him fine tune his chip shot and putting game. While I never matched his par as a golfer when I was a kid, as his caddy I did manage to come up with a few trick shots of my own.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? Well,don’t follow the lines in that poem or you may come up empty handed this gardening season. Underneath that soil, there's a lot that is not contrary at all, and a lot of hard work we don't see that reaps a harvest of a lasting and special kind.
What we see in our life here on earth are but smallsnapshots of the greater vision that God has planned for us. We can look into each other’s eyes, but the bigger picture of the depths of our souls and character are known only by the One who made us. My father, 102, is seeing the bigger picture now and although still spunky and sometimes talkative, often looks past me, towards a new and beautiful vista.
They are among the least, the lost and the lonely – those puppets propped up at local car washes. They are supposedly there for children, but the looks on their faces tell another story. We grown-ups may be the only upper hand they have in this world, but with a steady line of clear coats and tire shines waiting, reaching out to save them may be a wash…
We officially kick off the new green and greenery of the season when our seasonal pet mallards, Maude and Claude drop in like a couple of duck bombs out of nowhere. They are like long lost relatives that remind us that, regardless of the duck bills and paddle feet, we are just who we are, part of a long line of stories building to a legacy.
You are seeking something aren't you? What is it? A person you miss, a goal left unmet? Around there are signs all around you in the woods that may point to answers, to friends at a picnic, to goodnight kisses and flowers that are ready to bloom in the Spring...
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