HeyJaredOffcuts
In woodworking, an offcut is the small and usually useless piece of wood cut off of the larger piece being shaped for the project. So... here, an Offcut is something I think while I am thinking about something else.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 11
- Latest publication
- Sep 30, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 7, 2026
Latest issues
Salt and Light (opens the original)
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Working through the “salt and light” part of the Sermon on the Mount the other day and I noticed something that hadn’t registered before. As Jesus turns from His list of loved losers, those who despite what they and others might consider indicators of disqualification are nonetheless included among the blessed, He makes the audacious statement that they are now the “salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” It is as if He has put the bar of admission to the Kingdom on the ground – “whosoe
Learning to Tell Time (opens the original)
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Well… a month or so into the semester and I am finally starting to think outside the semester! For my whole life, time was framed by the school schedule – fall and spring and summer each had their own boundaries that ordered the year. Within them, class schedules, especially in my adult years, provided a structure around which appointments could be made. I have discovered – and not for the first time – how unruly my life is, left to my own devices! I still am making appointments, but without the
Considering Days of Dying (opens the original)
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This week has brought reminders of death at a pace demanding to be noticed – from Dolly Parton to Wendell Berry to Jim Moore, a fixture in my young adulthood and my first boss, to Keith Smith – the pastor who followed me in the youth ministry in my first church position, and who quickly surpassed me in his leading of that precious community. I was not close to any of them – but for some reason their deaths have hit hard this week. The first three, each dying at the age I think would be a good ag
Remembering Wendell Berry (opens the original)
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Wendell Berry died yesterday. It is strange how the death of someone I’ve never met and only admired from afar hits hard. But it does. He was first of all a Kentucky farmer – deeply anchored to the soil and its lifelong student. It provided a foundation for a lifetime of informed reflection on the value of place and the necessity of honoring the gifts of soil, of trees, of rotating crops in regenerative farming that respected the character of the land. That careful attention, honed by a discipli
The Gift of Routine (opens the original)
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There is something quite comforting – and motivating – about having a routine. My slothfulness will have me contemplating first steps for so long that any first step is no longer possible, the perfect having become the enemy of the good enough. But if I have a preset way to start, it is much more likely that I will. And, if I have a series of steps to follow, it is much more likely that I will persist. And, along the way, discover a kind of freedom within the soft constraints of the structure. T
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