It’s one of the loneliest of all encounters,
The most agonizing of all relationships,
Where it seems as though the very air you breathe
Pushes hard against you as you try to move forward.
Yet move you must.
The calling is too strong…
The need is too great…
Press on …
Press on against the wind. [click to continue…]
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(Sort-of-random thoughts after an oddly-shaped holiday season, complete with the Princess and her seven miniature companions… oh, and that reminds me… a trip to Disney, along with other uncertainties of life.)
Nearly every New Year’s night during my growing up years, I would find myself howling at the moon or somebody because of the insanity that was the college football bowl setup. Finally I have seen with my eyes what for years I had only seen in my dreams – a true semblance of a playoff. My team didn’t win. But it had a chance to compete, and that’s all anybody can ask for (unless you’re TCU, but I digress…).
Did you feel the earth rumble from all the photos taken at the Detroit auto show? Have you picked out your favorite auto eye-candy yet? The whole idea of a “concept car” fascinates me… slick looking ideas that get people all excited, only to be told they’ll never actually see that vehicle.
I started to get all huffy and offended, until I realized that the world I move in has its own version – the “concept Christian.” Sleek and slick, shiny and sexy-for-Jesus. But it is only in concept showrooms. How to get it into “real production” remains a mystery. [click to continue…]
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This is about a Father with four sons…
A Sailor.
A Driver.
A Flyer.
A Walker.
The Father provided richly for each of his sons. He gave them a home in which to flourish. He provided resources upon which to build their futures. He even saw to it that each was uniquely equipped and trained to succeed, according to his own natural bent.
Yet despite their obvious advantages, each son seemed convinced that there was more to life than living under the watchful, seemingly all-knowing gaze of his Father. Each seemed determined to find fulfillment on his own terms. And despite the obvious objections of the Father, each chose to go his own way. [click to continue…]
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As you celebrate in the silent night or the joyful noise that is your Christmas, I joyfully lift my prayer to the Father of lights on your behalf – praying that you would discover the unique inspiration that comes from knowing what an inspiration to others you can be.
I pray that on this day you would find your way to the Chamber of your Beloved, to rediscover the awakened intimacy that comes from having your soul restored, realizing again the central message of Christmas, that you are completely loved.
I pray that in the coming year, when you engage with the terrible and the trivial in this world, that when others are desperately looking for the light of truth and hope, they find it burning brightly still in you.
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I have always loved horses.
Ever since I looped one of Mama’s belts for a stirrup and mounted the arm of our couch, using a bent coat hanger for a cowboy hat (we wuz broke back then), I have loved horses.
Ever since the days of Trigger and Silver, “My Friend Flicka,” and Black Beauty, I have loved horses. I love the faithfulness of their companionship. I love the elegant beauty they demonstrate when they race. I love their strength and power, which remains to this day the standard by which mechanical engines are measured.
Even now, horses turn my head and, if it’s available, my camera. They’re just magnificent animals.
That said, I’ve rarely ever actually ridden a horse. Only galloped once – thought I was sure to take the dirt nap, or at least have dirt for dinner. [click to continue…]
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What stockings there are in this house are hung, and most all of the Christmas decorations are out and up for this most unusual of Christmases – one in which we are anticipating the birth of a grandson.
In the kitchen alone, the candles and stuffed carolers next to the miniature street lamp sing in inaudible celebration that it’s Christmas. Five trees of some size or shape adorn the china hutch and island. Candles and ribbons grace the table, and the Santa hat makes a nice addition to the ceramic pig that keeps watch over all things kitchen. A stuffed snowman (that lights up, of course) perches on a chair in the corner. And a healthy collection of Santa-and-the-Missus salt and pepper shakers give new meaning to that cliché of all Christmas clichés – ‘Tis the season.
But what most catches my eye is a little string of letters hanging down from the upper cabinet, next to the stuffed snowman. Those four letters spell the word, H-O-P-E.
Isn’t that the renewable resource that is Christmas – the celebration of the birth of the Hope of the Ages? That however sorry or desperate the world looks (have you read the news lately?), there still is hope?
We live in an age where linkin’ stinkin’ thinkin’ together has become an art form, and the cynics seem to be winning. But this Christmas can be a reminder to me and to you that we’re not done hoping. [click to continue…]
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Maybe it’s because I had another birthday yesterday, or maybe it’s because that birthday was also Election Day. Maybe it’s because I work with a school whose mission reads, in part, to “cherish character.” But lately I’ve had character on the brain.
Character in leadership.
Character development.
Character habits.
Dr. King envisioned a day when Americans would be judged “solely by the content of their character.” Our answer to that culturally is to try and not judge anybody at all. That is, until the tide of public opinion breaks the dam of political correctness. Or the electorate gets a belly full of whoever the incumbent is. Or the arrogant, narcissistic preacher or politician or boss-person overestimates their awesomeness one time too many.
In spite of our fascination with techniques, charisma, methods, or technology, people of influence still have to deal with the Character Connection.
You have to deal with it when you look in the mirror, when nobody else is looking.
You have to deal with it when you’re on the pedestal, when everybody’s cheering.
You have to do it in the outhouse, when everybody’s jeering, or they have forgotten you.
In spite of our efforts to prove otherwise (and we’ve had some pretty spectacular efforts), character earns the politician the right to legislate and pontificate. Character earns the right for the preacher to articulate truth. Character earns the business leader the right to profit in the marketplace of both money and ideas.
And a loss of character can undermine them all.
There are lots of ideas – good ideas – about what forms and sustains character when it comes to leadership. [click to continue…]
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Time and time again you’re the one who shows up when somebody needs you to.
Sometimes you bring your words with you, sometimes no words at all – just the enduring companionship of a faithful friend.
But who shows up for you when you’re the one who’s aching for the presence of another?
Jesus, that’s who. And in this case, me… because He wanted me to remind you, He’s always there.
You’re the one they turn to for their own self-understanding.
Like a human mirror or road map, you help others make sense of the terrain or the terrible, the magic or the mystifying of their lives.
But who holds up the mirror or points the way for you when the way seems baffling or impossible?
Jesus, that’s who. And in this case, me… because He wanted me to remind you, He’s always there.
Alone is just a figment of a blind imagination.
Lost is just the devil’s panic button of despair.
So when you need reminders of your hope and destination,
Hear the Spirit’s whisper that your Friend is Always There.
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The headlines are curious today, after weeks of holding us hostage over a disease that Americans steadfastly wish to remain somebody else’s problem. “COMPASSION URGED IN DALLAS AS EBOLA MONITORING ENDS” says the USA Today headline.
Who is this compassion aimed for?
People who don’t have the disease.
So why do they need compassion?
Because at one time we were afraid they may have it.
But after 21 days of having their lives quarantined while the politicians, media, talk radio and social media had everybody in a frenzy, now the science says, they don’t have it. Meanwhile, two nurses who were doing their jobs caring for the one person who has died from the disease in the U.S. now are fighting the virus, and we pray for their healing and recovery.
In the meantime, Dallas, please be kind to people you may otherwise want to avoid like the you-know-what. It’s the American thing to do. [click to continue…]
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Into every life there come those moments that cut new paths – awkward, ugly paths – across our landscape. Shadow experiences that block the warmth of the sun’s rays and leave us in a dark spot – or leave dark spots on us.
Most of these shadow moments are fleeting. Just as the sun stays in motion across the sky and recasts the shadows on the ground, life moves on and the light returns to our lives.
But sometimes the Shadow has a life and mind of its own. Sometimes it simply refuses to leave, and we’re left with the scars and the questions and the daytime darkness that threaten to block our sun forever. Sometimes, regardless of the truths we know or the time gone by, it just seems that the Shadow’s always there.
When the Shadow’s always there, if feels as though you have your own personal cloud suspended right over you, while the rest of the world basks in the sunshine. It’s easy to worry that you’re everybody’s else’s downer… when the Shadow’s always there. [click to continue…]
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