In this heartfelt Morning Brew, Ted says goodbye to Jaxon—his loyal, mischievous, and unforgettable standard poodle. From riding shotgun on trips to the dump to guarding the property with a few confident barks each night, Jaxon lived life fully and on his own terms. Known for his sharp intelligence, curious nose, and occasional counter-surfing adventures, he brought both challenge and joy to the household.

But this episode centers on Jaxon’s final week—a difficult and uncertain stretch marked by sudden paralysis, unanswered questions, and the quiet realization that it was time to let him go. Through it all, Jaxon showed a gentle dignity that made saying goodbye even harder.

With humor, honesty, and a touch of faith, Ted reflects on loss, loyalty, and the hope—however debated—that we might one day be reunited with the animals who meant so much to us.

In this gripping episode, retired naval aviator Mike Peterson joins the show to discuss the recent dramatic rescue of a downed American weapons systems officer deep inside Iran after an F-15E Strike Eagle was shot down. Mike shares his emotional reaction to hearing that a fellow aviator had been recovered and explains the unique brotherhood that exists among those who fly dangerous combat missions.

Drawing from his own military experience, Mike describes the intense survival, evasion, capture-resistance, and rescue training aviators undergo in preparation for the unthinkable. He gives listeners a rare glimpse into the mindset required to launch on missions knowing that one day rescue may be your only path home.

The conversation also explores what civilians often misunderstand about downed aircrew, the courage required to endure isolation behind enemy lines, and why the principle of “leave no one behind” remains sacred in the U.S. military.

Finally, Mike offers his blunt assessment of what Donald Trump and America should do next as tensions with Iran continue and ceasefire pressure builds. This is a powerful conversation about duty, brotherhood, sacrifice, and strength in dangerous times.

After growing up in Kansas, where trees are more of a suggestion than a presence, moving here thirteen years ago meant adjusting to forests, mountains, and enough timber to make a Kansas boy nervous.

We chose this place partly because of the beauty, though I’ve since learned you can have too much of a good thing. Soon after arriving, we had nearly a hundred trees removed just to reclaim some sunlight and views.

Since then, I also acquired a chainsaw—a development that likely has my guardian angels working overtime, because trees and my chainsaw skills can be a dangerous combination.

I once built a fine garden fence, only to have a windstorm flatten it with a falling limb the very next day. Recent storms have toppled more trees throughout the area, but they also left me with enough firewood for several winters. Around here, God sometimes takes the trees and gives us firewood.

We had several letters and comments recently and we share them today.

We also update you on a programming note as we head into Spring and Summer.

In this episode, I sit down with Jane Sauter, candidate for Idaho State Representative District 1 Seat A, to discuss the issues, values, and questions surrounding an important local primary election. In North Idaho, the primary often carries more weight than the general election, making it especially important for voters to pay attention.

Jane shares her concerns about whether some elected officials truly govern according to the principles they campaign on, and we talk about why a candidate’s voting record can reveal more than campaign slogans ever will.

We also discuss faith, family, respectful disagreement, and the realities of small-town politics—including the so-called good old boy network.

Most importantly, this episode is not about telling anyone how to vote. It is about encouraging citizens to become informed, attend forums, ask questions, study the candidates, and take voting seriously. Good government begins when voters do their homework and participate responsibly.

We went to Canada yesterday, where we visited what may be the finest DQ on the continent. Yes, another acronym—because apparently nobody says full words anymore. We no longer visit Dairy Queen. We go to DQ. We do things ASAP, finish them PDQ, and pretend everyone knows what we mean.

That got me thinking. We live in an age of initials. Politics gives us POTUS and SCOTUS. Business gives us HR, ROI, and COB. The military, bless them, can tell a whole story without using a complete word. Even people become shorthand now. Victor Davis Hanson becomes VDH.

Some acronyms are useful. Others are camouflage. They make simple things sound important, complicated things sound manageable, and ordinary people feel left out of the conversation.

Words matter. Plain speech matters. If you need help, say help. If something is foolish, say foolish. If people are hurting, name the hurt plainly.

And yet, I confess, there are exceptions.

DQ needs no explanation.

Because after one Blizzard north of the border, clarity arrived immediately.

Have a great day, everyone—and do something kind today, preferably PDQ.

When we first moved to North Idaho, the deep green spring pasture looked like a blessing. After years in Kansas and Colorado, I had never heard of cheat grass, so I admired the lush growth—until a neighbor stopped by and informed me that our beautiful field was actually an invasive pest.

Around here, everybody knows cheat grass except the newcomer praising it. Like fool’s gold, it succeeds by appearance. It looks valuable at first, then reveals itself later as dry, troublesome, sharp, and stubborn.

Experts offer complicated plans and cheerful wishes of “good luck,” but many landowners simply learn to manage it one season at a time. The lesson reaches beyond weeds.

Fool’s gold and cheat grass both remind us that not everything bright or green is good. As Scripture says, “You will know them by their fruits.” Some things require time, heat, and hardship before the truth appears.

In Part 2 of this Morning Brew, I take a step back from the political themes of the Great Awakening film and admit I missed the bigger picture the first time around—the power of prayer.

As the Constitutional Convention teetered on the edge of collapse, Benjamin Franklin’s call to prayer helped shift hearts, open minds, and guide the delegates toward compromise. But what does that kind of prayer look like in our everyday lives?

From the founding of a nation to a simple moment in my workshop—searching for a missing one-inch piece of plastic—I explore how prayer isn’t just for life’s biggest crises, but for the small, ordinary moments too.

With a touch of humor (and three uncooperative cats), this episode reflects on what it means to “pray without ceasing” and why inviting God into the daily details of life might matter more than we think.