You Love Me Like That. Finding Light in a Vapor World

I knew the story I wanted told had to come from my own heart.

When I looked for what to say, I looked to a book that’s not easy or light but honest. Ecclesiastes. It opens with a line that sounds almost cynical:

“Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.”

That Hebrew word vanity really means vapor. Smoke. Here and gone. Solomon, the son of David, the king of Jerusalem, had it all. Wisdom, power, money, entertainment, legacy. And he said it still felt empty.

He tried what we all try when we’re searching. To get smarter, work harder, build bigger, party more, fill the silence with music, drink, wealth, relationships. Every road ended the same. “I considered all that my hands had done… and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind.” He got what everyone says will make you happy and found out it didn’t.

Then, in a quiet moment, Solomon said something different:

“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also… is from the hand of God.” (Ecclesiastes 2:24)

Joy isn’t something you engineer; it’s something God gives. Meaning isn’t something you build, it’s something you receive.

And then comes that passage so many know:

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to break down and a time to build up. A time to love. A time for peace. Even the hard things, the uncomfortable seasons, somehow, God uses them. “All things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

That’s where faith comes in. “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” (Hebrews 11:6) You can’t always see the plan; you trust the Planner.

When I think about love in that world of vapor and seasons and mystery, I think about the song used for my wedding ceremony and inspiration: Adam Hood’s “You Love Me Like That.”

I don’t want no money, fortune or fame;

I don’t give a damn if the whole world remembers my name…

I just want a love that’s strong and true,

one soul in the world that knows what I’ve been through.

That’s what love is. Not the flashy, empty stuff Solomon warned about, but the quiet, fierce, undeserved grace that shows up and stays.

Paul describes it in words you’ve heard at weddings:

“Love is patient and kind; love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” (1 Corinthians 13:4–8)

I realized I didn’t need someone else to preach that for me. I’ve lived enough of the emptiness Ecclesiastes describes. I know enough of the seasons. I’ve found a love that’s “strong and true.” So I stood and became my own minister for my wedding.

Because what matters isn’t a perfect script. It’s the truth you’ve lived.

That’s why I made a new tradition for us. My family. I gave a candlestick. A simple, small, shining thing. Because life has dark rooms. Pride gets loud. Work gets heavy. Days get long. But if one of us can strike the match and spark the flame again, we’ll never be left alone in the dark.

So you’ll be my candle and I’ll be your spark…

Maybe we won’t leave each other alone in the dark.

That’s the promise. To hold the light for each other when the world feels meaningless. To keep choosing love when pride would rather win the argument. To trust God’s unseen purpose in every season.

Solomon ends Ecclesiastes saying:

“Fear God and keep His commandments… For God will bring every deed into judgment.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13–14)

It’s not a threat; it’s a promise. Your life, your love, matters. God sees it. And He’s the one who makes it last.

Don’t waste your life chasing vapor. Don’t measure your worth by noise, wealth, or winning. Receive joy as a gift. Build love that’s strong and true. Stand by each other through the long nights.

And light the candle when it goes dark.

Right About Now: Pride, Irony, and the Cost of Being Right

Country music has a way of telling on us. It’s honest. It sings about heartbreak, mistakes, joy, and regret. Curtis Grimes, a Texas native, husband, father, and award-winning country artist, has lived enough of it to know what he’s singing about.

Grimes’s story is one of second chances. Once a rising star chasing the party scene, he hit a breaking point where he realized he had all the success but none of the peace. In his words, he was “a horrible representation of a Christian” until a gospel song on the radio reminded him that God hadn’t given up on him. He rededicated his life, reshaped his music, and now uses his platform to share hope through faith-based country. He’s earned chart-topping singles and Texas Country Music Association awards, but more importantly, he’s found purpose: to encourage people with songs that point to grace, redemption, and truth.

His track “Right About Now” is the perfect example. On the surface, it’s about a man who won an argument but lost the woman he loved. He “stood on principle,” made his case, “litigated” and he was right. But while he’s at home polishing his pride, she’s “out on the town,” and by the end, he’s left with nothing but the hollow taste of victory.

It’s ironic, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s profoundly biblical.

The Irony of Pride

• “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16:18)

• “One’s pride will bring him low, but he who is lowly in spirit will obtain honor.” (Proverbs 29:23)

Pride feels strong. It feels like standing your ground. But the Bible warns us that pride doesn’t lift us up, it brings us low. The man in the song is right in the argument, but wrong in the relationship. The irony is that his victory cost him everything he actually wanted.

The Wisdom of Humility

• “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (James 4:6)

• “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Matthew 23:12)

Humility doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you value love more than your ego. Sometimes the strongest words you can speak in a marriage or relationship are the hardest: I’m sorry.

The world tells us to “stick to our guns.” Jesus tells us to lay them down and pick up grace.

Arguments That Don’t Heal

• “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1)

• “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.” (Ephesians 4:26–27)

The man in the song made a solid case — “you sure told her, ha, yeah you did.” But what did it fix? Nothing. His words were sharp enough to win the fight but not soft enough to heal the heart. Scripture reminds us that a gentle answer can do far more than a clever argument.

The Cost of Being Right

• “Be not quick in your spirit to become angry, for anger lodges in the heart of fools.” (Ecclesiastes 7:9)

Here’s the bitter irony: you can win the battle and lose the war. You can be right and still be wrong. You can cling to pride and end up alone. The song paints the picture: while he’s proud of his stand, she’s gone, and his pride becomes the loneliest company in the world.

The Gospel Remedy

The irony of Curtis Grimes’ song is also the irony of the gospel. We thought strength was in pride, but Jesus showed strength in humility. We thought life was found in holding on, but Jesus showed life comes in letting go.

In marriage, in friendship, in faith, the truth is the same:

• Pride will cost you more than it gives.

• Humility will bless you more than it costs.

• And sometimes the best way to be “right” is to choose love over being right.

So the next time you feel like sticking to your guns, remember. Jesus laid down His life, not because He was wrong, but because He was right, and He loved us more than His pride.

Beyond the Song: A Life of Faith

Curtis Grimes’s life is itself a testimony. He’s a singer, songwriter, husband, and father who decided that no amount of spotlight was worth losing his soul. In choosing to honor God, he found true success. Not just in music charts, but in a meaningful life that impacts others for good.

Another of his songs, “Noah Built a Boat”, captures the spirit of stepping out in faith. It challenges us to ask: What “boat” is God calling me to build? Maybe it’s a dream you’ve put off, a relationship you need to repair, or a new direction entirely. Whatever it is, if God is in it, don’t let doubt or naysayers stop you. When God opens a door, He’ll lead you through. You just have to take that first step.

Where Have All the Average People Gone

“Where Have All the Average People Gone” - Roger Miller, as covered by Danno Simpson.

The first time I heard this song wasn’t from Roger Miller. It was in 2022, at Shmiggity’s in Steamboat Springs, or “home for now,” as I like to call it, even though I was born and raised in the Yampa Valley. It wasn’t the original either. It was Danno Simpson, live, at a pre‑Music Fest show. You know, before the week‑long Texas fiasco full of drunkards, poets, and some of the most down‑home, amazing people who turn Steamboat into a musical paradise.

The Music Fest has been my favorite time of year in the valley, maybe all year, since I first realized it even existed. Honestly, I was pissed nobody in my family or community ever told me about it sooner. But all it took was a pair of skis just good enough to mount some pawn‑shop boots, and I was off with my buddies. I’ve been making it a priority ever since.

Around here, locals call it “Texas Week.” People get fired up. You can feel it in the air. Or maybe that's just the knowing of what’s to come. For me? I was hooked. From my first Ragweed show at the Steamboat Springs free concert series, learning about the magic of music through Cody Canada, to screaming my lungs out to Danno at The Music Fest, I’ve been in love with it ever since.

Danno’s from Fort Collins, though you’d never guess it by listening. He’s got that rare gift. The ability to completely capture a crowd. In one set he’ll cut deep with a murder ballad (The Final Stand of Henry Lee), bring a grown man to tears with the only song ever written about the irrigation industry (Honest Work), then make you reflect on how damn fast the (Days gone By). By the end of the set, you feel like you’ve lived a lifetime and you’ve never had more fun doing it.

Fast‑forward to The Music Fest 2025, when I finally got the chance to video his cover of “Where Have All the Average People Gone.” Before he played it, Danno told the story of how he first heard the song, sitting in a fast‑food drive‑through, where it hit him so hard he broke down in tears.

Roger Miller’s version has that upbeat, almost playful tone. But when Danno sings it, you hear something different. His delivery carries a desperation that makes the lyrics feel raw and urgent. He slowed it down, made every word count, and somehow turned it into something uniquely his own. Without losing what made the original great.

He damn sure brought me to tears that first night in 2022, and I’ve requested it at his shows ever since.

https://youtu.be/GYSD-62_XsE?si=LkAfMOBXISvqrLd7

The Broken Drum Still Beats: Honoring My Great-Grandpa, Forrest Markle

When I started Artful Imagination Endeavors, I wasn’t exactly sure what it would become. What I did know was that I wanted it to be a place to share stories, music, art, and inspiration from the many wonderful people in this world. As I search for a way to begin, I realize the best place to start is with my own roots. With the story of my great-grandpa, Forrest Markle.

Forrest wasn’t just a name in our family history. He was the mayor of Hayden, Colorado, in the late 1960s and ’70s, a man who poured his heart into his community. Alongside his wife, Margery, he ran The Broken Drum Café, a local gathering place known for good meals, conversation, and the kind of small-town connection that seems rarer with each passing year.

His legacy doesn’t stop at public service and community building. Forrest also wrote a song called The Moon is Not for Lovers, recorded by Buck Jones after the Apollo moon landing. Its lyrics captured a powerful feeling at the time. That the moon had shifted from being a symbol of mystery and romance to something cold, scientific, and distant. Yet the song reminds us that even as rockets reach new heights, we should never lose the wonder that made us look up at the night sky in the first place.

Artful Imagination Endeavors is my way of carrying that spirit forward. The name The Broken Drum for my dream project isn’t just a nod to the café Forrest and Margery once ran. It’s a tribute to a man whose story, service, and creativity continue to inspire me.

Here’s to keeping the wonder alive.