“Whatcha know good?”

That’s a question I have been asked occasionally over many years. And every time I’m asked, I try to think about it before I answer: What do I know that’s good?

I know a lot that’s good.

I know that my oldest niece is getting married in Alabama this coming weekend to the man she’s loved for years. He’s been a part of the family for about that long, anyway. We love them both and they are a great pair. I think this moment of Shelby and Graham becoming man-and-wife is something that’s very good.

I know that on the same day, on the West Coast, my daughter-in-law Arianna will be standing with her mother Zina to support her as she marries a godly man who swept her off her feet. That’s good.

I know that my children are all healthy and doing well. That’s so good.

I know that puppies and animals of all sorts still make me smile. I know that I will laugh loudly at videos of cats jumping and missing their intended targets. Every time. So good.

I know that the coffee I’m sipping as I write this is delicious and warming me from the inside. Mmm, good.

I know that I have a job, a place to live, clothes to wear, a wife who loves me. All very good things.

I know that I have had friends of every age, nationality, ethnic and religious background over my life. As I spoke one day with a friend who is 20 years my junior and has a different skin tone than me, someone he knew came up and asked him — in front of me, after my friend had introduced us — “Why are you friends with him? What do you two possibly have in common?”

My friend could have said something about us being co-workers, having similar interests, being from the same place regionally, or a number of other things. Instead, he said, “This man is my brother, and I love him.”

Now that’s good.

I know that I’m alive. I was able to get out of bed this morning, joints creaking and muscles aching and nose running. But alive and healthier than many. Good.

But the best thing I know is not a thing at all — it’s a who. It’s Jesus.

He’s the one who asked someone one day why they were calling him “good,” since only God was good. The person talking to Jesus didn’t acknowledge him as God’s son, but called him “good” — a term reserved only for God himself. Jesus was telling him to think about what he was saying, and what his words really meant.

So when someone asks me, “Whatcha know good?” I could give one of several answers. But the best one?

I know Jesus, and he is always good.

That makes today a day of thanks, not just the last Thursday of every November.

Lifestyles editor Brett Campbell can be reached at brett.campbell@dailyleader.com or 601-265-5307.