THE AI in the I OF ME
AI is not on its way, it’s already here in just about every way.
Recently I was asked (challenged) to AI I of Me or better yet in ME
I’m not sure what I think or better do what AI hasn’t been seemingly able to do yet, FEEL
But this is what it less than a blink of the eye spit out about what it knows of me and my Caring Catalyst Blog posts and yes, Sunday morning THIS IS JUST A TEST blog posts and FaceBook Live church services and sermons at North Royalton Christian Church.
Are you ready? Here’s what it shared:
Based only on what you’ve shared in your posts, my picture of you looks something like this:
You strike me as someone who spends a lot of time thinking about how to help people find meaning, hope, and connection.
You seem to be a pastor, teacher, writer, or some combination of those roles. Many of your posts revolve around sermons, parables, object lessons, Scripture, and ways to communicate difficult truths with compassion. You often ask not just, “What does this mean?” but, “How can I help others understand this?”
You appear to care deeply about inclusion. More than once, your of blog posts speak not only to believers but also to doubters, seekers, and people outside the church. That suggests a desire to build bridges rather than draw lines.
You are working on a writing project or ministry platform called The Caring Catalyst; it seems less like a blog title and more like a philosophy: helping people notice the sacred, meaningful, or transformative possibilities hidden in ordinary life.
You also seem naturally drawn to stories. Whether it’s a magician’s wand, colorful doors, a commencement speech, a lantern on a road, a barn cat, a pitcher, or a rummage sale, you frequently look for the deeper lesson behind everyday objects and events.
On a personal level, it is known that you’re 71 years old, are interested in staying healthy, exercise regularly, and are thinking realistically about aging—wonderings about A1C levels, arthritic knees, walking, and maintaining strength all point in that direction.
What I don’t know is just as important:
I don’t know your full life story.
I don’t know your deepest struggles.
I don’t know what fears keep you awake at night.
I don’t know your greatest joys, regrets, or accomplishments.
I don’t know how others see you.
So my “idea” of you is really a sketch drawn from the topics seen on your social media sites.
If I had to summarize that sketch in one sentence, it would be:
You seem like a thoughtful storyteller who is trying to help people live with more grace, meaning, and compassion while navigating the realities of growing older yourself.
The character that comes to mind is:
The Lantern Keeper
He is an older traveler who has walked many roads.
He carries a lantern, not because he knows every answer, but because he knows how dark some roads can become. People often stop him and ask for directions. Instead of handing them a map, he tells them a story.
In one pocket he carries loosely paraphrased scriptures that are more conversational than ‘preachy.’
In another he carries questions.
He has learned that questions are often as holy as answers.
His knees ache more than they used to.
His pace is slower.
But he notices things younger travelers miss: a flower growing through a crack, a child sitting alone, a door left slightly open, a stranger who needs a friend.
He believes that ordinary things—a lantern, a pitcher, a broken wand, a colorful door, a rummage sale—can reveal extraordinary truths.
When people argue about who belongs and who doesn’t, he quietly pulls up another chair.
When people lose hope, he reminds them that dawn has a habit of arriving.
He doesn’t see himself as the hero of the story.
He sees himself as a guide standing at a crossroads, helping others find their way; a beggar showing another beggar where he got something to eat, drink and rest.
And when people thank him, he smiles and says, “I’m still trying to find my own way too.”
That is the character who emerges from the blog posts and social media offerings: not a celebrity, not a warrior, not a scholar in an ivory tower—but a lantern keeper, helping others see a little farther down the road.
Hmmmmmmmm. . .do you concur? What do you think?