One of my favorite pics of Grandpaw and Button
It was one of the many differences between us. Maybe it was generational. Maybe it had more to do with personality. I don’t know. To me it was silly at best, annoying it worst.
Corny, that’s it. It was corny.
But my dad did it without apology, and routinely yucked about it.
“This is so-and-so,” he would say, “but I call him [insert nickname here].”
To know him well enough to banter at all – which for him meant more than one conversation – usually earned you some sort of nickname.
The manager of the local bank: “I call her Cuz.”
A friend and pastor’s wife: “Here comes Trouble.”
His and Dean’s friend Dolores got a play on the pronunciation, for no apparent reason: “Doh-loh-reez.” [click to continue…]
You’ve probably never heard of Yarbo. Unless, of course, you’ve spent some time tooling through Washington County, Alabama. This unincorporated community, positioned halfway between Chatom and Millry, flies by your car window pretty fast on Highway 17. A couple of old chicken houses, an abandoned softball field, a few house trailers, that’s about it.
At least that’s how it looks through my window. Yarbo is a place on the way to some other place.
My dad had a different view.
On his regular excursions between Millry, his home at the time, and Chatom or Mobile, he would notice a singular figure sitting in the shade of one of those mobile homes. An older black gentleman would spend hours there, offering a friendly wave at passers-by. And there in the warmth of those Southwest Alabama summer days, my father found a kindred spirit.
He waved back.
Eventually he came to look for his nameless friend and would make a point of tooting his horn and waving. Though separated by all the things that make for TV news sound bites – race and economic status and culture and probably politics – each of these men found in a simple gesture a point of connection.
That wasn’t enough for my dad. [click to continue…]
I started writing this last Wednesday with an urgent prayer that I would get home in time to see my dad before he passed away. What would normally have been a routine knee replacement surgery poked a vicious bear called Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. He would never leave the hospital.
Lynchburg to Charlotte
On the plane headed home from Lynchburg. Going home to a father who is going home himself. It seems that everybody – including him – has concluded that there is no fight left. He gets weaker every day and this morning he has some sort of infection that requires everybody to wear a glove and mask to be in the room with him.
I postponed the weekend trip to Lubbock. Cassie and Joel are on the way. They will get to Mobile ten minutes before I do. It’s just a matter of time.
It was both distracting and comforting to be at a conference filled with worship leaders, listening to people sing about victory over death and the power of the blood of Jesus – even the old standby “I’ll Fly Away.” It takes on a totally new meaning when my daddy is about to be doing the flying. [click to continue…]
Imagine with me.
You’re an actor, and your dream is to land a role on the Ultimate Stage – a place where your talent can be on display for the entire world to sit up and take notice. A role that can lead to even bigger and better things. You don’t have to be the star. You just want to be able to show your star power.
The script: Interesting. It’s a modern retelling of a famous scene from the Bible – the time when Jesus fed about 4,000 people with seven loaves of bread and a few fish.
You’ve been summoned to a callback audition and informed you have a spot in the play. That’s all you know.
Can you imagine the excitement? The anticipation you’re feeling? This is what you have dreamed for, wished for, prayed for, and endured a lot of questions and unhelpful go-be-a-teacher suggestions for.
You. Are. Going. To. Broadway. [click to continue…]
The late Luciano Pavarotti holds the Guiness World Record for the most curtain calls by a singer or actor – a staggering 165. Together with Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras, he sang in the biggest-selling classical record of all time.
When Pavarotti sang, no one sang along. They would sit breathlessly, passively, allowing themselves to be carried away by the extraordinary power of the tenor’s voice.
“Excellent” hardly conveys the talent the world lost on September 6, 2007.
Garth Brooks is the greatest-selling albums artist in the U.S. since 1991 and the second-best-selling solo artist of all time in the U.S. His concerts literally sell out in 15 minutes. And when he takes the stage he takes his audience with him.
When Garth Brooks sings, if you don’t sing along you look a little strange. Take it from experience, if you don’t know all the words you’ll act like you do.
Excellent? Oh my yes, in a completely different way. [click to continue…]
Why Chariots of Fire Remains One of My Favorite Movies
Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
-William Blake, “Jerusalem”
I was a single seminary student in 1981 when I passed a bulletin board poster for the film Chariots of Fire. Rex Reed called it “A masterpiece.” Vincent Canby described it as “an exceptional film. Unashamedly rousing, invigorating.”
I figured it was on the seminary bulletin board for a reason, so I bit.
I’ve been smitten ever since. Through 32 years of marriage, three kids, 8 grandchildren, and various twists through life, that movie with its iconic 80s soundtrack and cast of young dreamers still captures my imagination. But only recently have I stopped to consider, at the urging of counselor and life coach Dwight Bain why this film still resonates nearly 35 years later.
I don’t care whether you love it, hate it, or have never even seen it. Behind the partly-fictionalized story of Great Britain’s 1924 Olympic team lies the epic question that challenges anybody who ever aspired to anything:
Why do you do it?
I won’t rehash the details of the plot which you can easily find here or here. I’ll just say that four characters in the film reflect four driving motivations. At any given time, any of these characters can represent my driving force for what I do, and each has its place. These motive checks allow me to consider whether my “why” is useful to my life purpose and goals.
In other words, I may be doing the right things, but for impotent reasons.
Why do you do what you do? [click to continue…]
“What I’m about to tell you is true. You need to change and become like little children. If you don’t, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Anyone who takes the humble position of this child is the most important in the kingdom of heaven. Anyone who welcomes a little child like this one in my name welcomes me” (Matthew 18:3-5, NIRV).
What started as an argument over greatness ended in one brief demonstration.
The greatest, Jesus said, was the one who humbled himself as a little child.
What’s the difference between that and typical adulthood? [click to continue…]
This is James Harrison.
He was the NFL Defensive Player of the Year in 2008.
He does pushups with a 300-pound man on his back. Lots of them.
I want him on my team.
Which team?
Whichever one needs linebackers who can do pushups with a 300-pound man lying on his back.
James has a few tattoos. One says, “PEACE” and has a cross next to it. Others are very sentimental – one for his grandmother, his sons, his mom and dad. He also has one that says “Colossians 1:16.” Here is what Colossians 1:16 says, in case you’re wondering.
“For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.”
I am NOT a tattoo dude. Not my thing. But I want James Harrison on my team.
Which team? [click to continue…]
World changers… Meh.
We’ve turned that into a badly-worn cliché. It seems as though anybody with a Selfie Stick and a cause can be labeled a world changer.
And if your goal is to be famous – to get your 15 minutes of viral – let me just remind you that these days that cuts both ways. Thanks to the wonders of always-on video, social media and instant rushes to judgment, you can go from completely unknown to globally hated within hours. Just ask Walt Palmer or Justine Sacco.
But what if I were to tell you that it’s possible to have global impact – the long-term kind, way past your local address and far past your own lifetime – without being a celebrity or even well-known? What if it were possible to shake the earth with potential without ever holding a microphone or appearing in the media? What if I told you that even when you felt swatted away like a gnat by the elites, you could still make history?
This is for those who are looking for a hero without a stage, press conference, or package to sell. This is for those who may have resigned themselves to obscurity at best, or chronic rejection at worst. This is for the ordinary guy with average intelligence or the woman who has a cause (or calling), but no one to recognize their genius or talent.
I want to introduce you to the first “power couple” in the New Testament. But let me hasten to say that these two never conducted a massive missionary campaign, started a church, wrote a book of the Bible, or even said anything that was written down for future generations. They appear to be walking wallflowers. And yet the most famous Christian of his day said something about them that he never said of anyone else. [click to continue…]
(A Brief Conversation about symbols and change and heritage and hate and other awkward things…)
What’s wrong with it? It represents who I am.
It also represents some things you don’t want to be.
It’s my heritage!
Some would say it’s hatred. [click to continue…]