They grew up together in this small Maryland town, those two 19-year-old college coeds. Summer was their favorite season. And what’s not to like about a sultry night high atop the railroad bridge in Ellicott City? Which is where Elizabeth and Rose were dangling their feet this Monday around midnight—their last night before heading back to college. The view beneath the stars above that sleepy neighborhood is why the bridge has been a favorite destination for generations. The young women tweeted their friends.

While the roar of the Thirtieth Olympiad is still ringing in our ears, may I muse outside the box for a moment? Wouldn't it be nice if somebody could find a way to bring 10,500 of the world's athletically-inclined young to play together in these 26 sports and 39 disciplines without (and that's the key word) having to end up with so many who go home with no medal at all? But of course, just to be in the Olympic games is a huge accomplishment worthy of personal satisfaction and collective honor.

This story takes the cake—the wedding cake! They met and fell in love at a rodeo, the barrel-racing bride and her bull-riding groom. And at their wedding last month on the plains of central Kansas, Candra in her white gown and Caleb in his cowboy hat and jeans were picture perfect.

If you’re not into bizarre this Memorial Day weekend, don’t read any further. News agencies this week reported that a glass vial of President Ronald Reagan’s blood (reportedly taken after his attempted assassination in 1981) was being offered for sale by a British online auction house.

Paging through my newspaper this week I spotted a familiar face—the late Johnny Carson, “The King of Late Night,” as the new Peter Jones PBS documentary coronates him. I read on: “He had everybody in stiches for 30 years, but offstage Johnny Carson was not the life of the party” (South Bend Tribune May 14, 2012 p B7).

That’s what a new Danish study has concluded. Actually, it’s 6.2 years for men and 5.8 years for women—the number of years a jogger will live longer than a non-jogger. Six years! I have a friend who has sworn off jogging. He quips, “If you want pain in the morning, just get out of bed and stick your fingers in your eyes—that should do it!” But the Copenhagen Heart Study that began back in 1976 just last week announced these startling findings.

Would you like to know what a baby born on your Graduation Day can look forward to on this planet? TIME magazine ran this fascinating list of statistics under the headline “Hello, My Name Is Sophia: I’m an American baby born in 2012, and I already know a few things about myself”: ·        I am one of 4 million babies who will be born in the U.S.

In the bottom drawer of my desk is an old cassette tape (now you know how old it is!), with these words scribbled on its label, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Turns out it’s a 1988 a cappella recording of composer-singer Bobby McFerrin, singing and whistling the jingle: “Here’s a little song I wrote, you might want to sing it note for note—Don’t worry, be happy. . . . In every life we have some trouble, but when you worry you make it double—Don’t worry, be happy. . . .

Earth Day is this Monday, April 22. Want a practical way to make an ecological difference on this planet? Let me borrow a page from my 2012 devotional book The Chosen (April 26 reading) and share it here in the Fourth Watch blog:

That was the theme of the Youth in Mission (YIM) Congress that I had the privilege of preaching and teaching at in Mannheim, Germany, this past Thursday through Sunday. Over 1,200 young adults from across Germany and Europe gathered to meet and sleep and eat in a large public school (closed for the Easter holiday) to celebrate their common bond in Christ and His mission for this third millennial world.