Mine is in my shoulder, from replacement surgery. Our grandson's is in his chest from heart surgery.

Country singer, Carrie Underwood's was on her face from a bad fall and 40 stitches.

But most of ours are deep inside, where no one can see them.

It's that time of year again. When a lot of us are feeling - well, religious.

You've got Lent. And Good Friday services. And Easter services. And if you're Jewish, the millennia-old observance of Passover.

And that's all good. In fact, social researchers tell us that religious folks are generally happier and more satisfied, less likely to get divorced, more likely to volunteer - lots of positive effects.

I think it started at our grandson's two-year birthday party. With Cassie. That cute little Shetland pony that the party lady brought for the kids to ride in a little circle.

That's when my wife said, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could have Cassie at our place for him to ride?" So how can I say no to a pony for our then-only grandchild?

Not long after we bought Cassie, my honey casually commented, "You know horses are social animals. They really need company." Four horses later, they had plenty of company. Somehow, people kept coming up with horses for my horsie-lady.

Again and again, cable news networks announce "Breaking News." All too often it's heart-breaking news.

A school shooting. A quake or a crash. A storm, a fire, a flood.

It's hard to be a news anchor or politician at those times. Trying to find the right thing to say. Often, they will simply say, "Our thoughts and prayers are with you." Or the social media version of consolation, "Sending good vibes."

We knew it was coming. With each passing birthday, we knew a spiritual giant of our lifetime would be in heaven soon.

It's still hard. And even more real for me, having just come from Billy Graham's funeral service. For so many of us, he embodied the best of Biblical faith. Even though his last crusade was in 2005, there's still this sense that we have lost something irreplaceable.

Leaving many asking the graveside question his pastor posed: "Billy's gone - what happens now? Who will take Billy's place?"

Bottom line, Billy Graham was a farm boy who became a preacher.

But his death is obviously a big deal. Because his life was a big deal.

How many preachers have been on Americans' "Ten Most Admired" list more years than any other person? What was it about him that gave him the unofficial title, "America's Pastor"?

I was privileged to touch just the edges of Billy Graham's life. He touched mine all the way to its core.

There are many who knew him intimately. What he taught me often came just by watching his life. And sometimes through connections at Billy Graham events where I had the opportunity to speak over the years.

But the Jesus-power and Jesus-presence reflected in Billy Graham's life radiated far and wide. I probably learned more about a Christ-honoring life from him than any other single person I've known. Sometimes you have to see it to be it. In Billy Graham, I got to see it.

I'm glad I didn't hear it until after last week's shoulder replacement surgery.

The student nurse told me, "I've seen just about every kind of surgery there is. Except for the one I don't ever want to see." Turns out it's the very kind of operation I just had!

I asked why. I will not soon forget her answer. "Because power tools belong in the workshop, not the operating room!"

So all eyes are on Korea. And for once, it's not about missiles and nukes.

It's all about some of the world's greatest athletes, converging on Korea for the Winter Olympics. If you happen to be an Olympic junkie, there's great news - you can watch 176 hours of the games on TV! And Olympic stars like Lindsey Vonn. Shaun White. Nathan Chen.

For me, the Winter Olympics bring back memories of a teenage gal my wife and I worked with in our youth ministry years ago. She was especially memorable because of her relentless dedication to figure skating.

I haven't heard the song for years. But recently the chorus keeps playing in my head.

"We go on hurting each other."

It was a huge '70s hit for The Carpenters. But lately it seems it could be our national theme song.

Cyber-bullying so brutal it's driving teenagers to suicide. Heartless cruelty at school and on social media. "Me Too" victims, scarred and shamed by sexual harassment and abuse by exploitive men. Political vitriol and horrific crimes that suggest the evening news should be "R" rated.