I turned 56 on Sunday (May 3), but I tell you not so that you will respond with, “Why Ken, you don’t look a day over 55.” I share this small piece of personal news to make a spiritual point, two actually.

I was deeply touched when the congregation, through the staff appreciation committee, remembered my birthday as I prepared to leave the office for the weekend. What a lovely gesture to carry home with me, an expression that reflects the warmth exuding from this place. I hope your house of worship is mindful of the needs of its staff, whether by sending a card on a happy occasion or reaching out in a deeper way should someone be suffering. A committee to keep track of milestones or host a staff luncheon is one way to make sure a congregation shows its love to those of us blessed to be earning a living serving God. But even without a committee or a luncheon, there are ways to more informally appreciate the church staff, one employee at a time. Share an embrace on Sunday morning. Stick your head in someone’s office and say, “You’re doing great.” Put your praise on paper and drop a note of thanks in the mail. Seek out that staffer whose shoulders might be sagging under the weight of the world and ask if everything’s OK. We come together as a congregation – and a staff – to love and serve in God’s name. So love and serve everyone.

My other birthday-related point is more somber.

You might have read about the death of Charlotte Observer NASCAR writer David Poole, a legend at the race track and a legend in the newsroom. David and I go way back – we worked together, played softball against each other, traded e-mails on this and that even after I left the paper in 2006. He called me not long ago for some quotes for a column he was writing on the death of a NASCAR chaplain. I remember running into David at Charlotte/Douglas a dozen or so years ago. We were both new to our beats, and both flying to Richmond. David was going to cover the race. I was going to lead a workshop for seminary communicators. What I remember most about that encounter was how energized we were – a couple of middle-aged reporters who had found our calling in two very different areas. Man, were we in love with racing and religion, respectively!

A dozen or so years later, David died at home of an apparent heart attack. He was 50.

Fifty years old.

Whether or not you just marked a birthday, I hope David’s death serves as a reminder that no one is promised tomorrow. So today, put your family and faith above everything else, because of all that life throws our way, only family and faith truly matter.