The earliest known drawings of you-know-who. From the Walt Disney Family Museum in San Francisco
Suppose you could travel back in time and witness some event as it happened. What would you like to see firsthand?
My family and I played that “what if” game on a trip a few years ago. There were the obvious answers, of course, – to see the Red Sea divided into two walls of water, the resurrection or ascension of Jesus, to hear Lincoln’s Gettysburg address.
But lately I’ve been working on another list, because it speaks not just to the past, but to my future and yours.
If I could be a fly on history’s wall, here are some things I’d like to see, in no certain order:
I’d love to see Walt Disney show his wife sketch of a cartoon mouse he drew on the train ride home – one he called “Mortimer.” Lillian had a better idea. “Call him Mickey,” she said.
I’d love to see Oprah Winfrey’s first screen test.
I’d love to hear Billy Graham the first time he ever stood to preach.
I’d love to see Norman Vincent Peale’s wife, Ruth, mail his book manuscript – still in the trash can – to yet another publisher because he forbid her to take it out of the trash. (The book was The Power of Positive Thinking. It sold 30 million copies.) [click to continue…]
It’s time to come clean. It’s time to break 30 years of silence, to lay the rumors to rest and answer the burning question that has followed me since the early 80s. And I decided that rather than have all the drama of a press conference or something, you should be the official witness.
What’s that? No, sorry, I don’t have the original formula to Coca Cola. No, I don’t know what happened to D.B. Cooper.
What I’m going to finally tell the world is why I chose David Garland as my Hebrew professor.
I know, I know. This is big. But I’ve given it some thought, and I have my reasons for sharing it now, and in this format. Stay with me, okay?
Dr. Garland was a distinguished and beloved Old Testament and Hebrew professor at Southwestern Seminary from 1958 to 1991. But I didn’t pick him because of his Old Testament or Hebrew wisdom. [click to continue…]
In a perfect world motivation by leaders would be unnecessary. Everybody would carry their own motivational weight, and the leaders would become traffic cops.
In an almost-perfect world, motivation would be the stuff of crock pots. Slow. Simmering. Relational. A view toward the long haul.
But there come those times when you as a leader (and everybody leads somebody) don’t have the luxury of icebreakers, quiet talks by the seashore, or weekend group retreats laden with teambuilding exercises. You need action. Now!
Nothing can create a sense of desperation faster than staring at a date with destiny with an unprepared or unmotivated team or organization. Nothing can make you throw a shoe or howl at the moon quicker than a group of constituents that just don’t seem to get it. Pick your metaphor – the ship’s going down, the iron is hot, the Egyptians are coming, the boat’s leaving the dock – when the people we lead have to take massive action quickly, this is no time for a support group or a policy discussion.
They called their hangout at Chip’s place the Land of O.Z. Not because there were witches, wizards, or munchkins there, but because whenever Chip, Blake and Tony got together, the ideas would start flying. And they were living in the Opportunity Zone.
The three friends met in the dorm at their university, and were all business majors. And they were dreamers. Entrepreneurial types, always looking for the next big idea or opportunity.
In the Land of O.Z., no idea was considered taboo. These friends would dream and scheme, design and research, test and toss away ideas before breakfast was done. They even tried one or two, mostly for fun. Not much happened.
Their big opportunity came when they anticipated the emergence of smart phones and the apps that drove them. This would be their surefire thing – what the Internet boom (and bust) had meant to the 1990s. They would establish a software design company that specialized in apps for iPhones.
A year later, Wizard of Apps was more or less history, and the friends-for-life had moved on.
Quick Question: What do the people you lead (and you do lead somebody) do when trouble shows up?
Quick Answer: They do what you lead them to do.
More Thoughtful Question: Do the people you lead (and you do lead somebody) run for the hills or cower in fear at the first sign of trouble, or do they courageously rise up to the challenge?
More Thoughtful Answer: They do what you lead them to do. Not necessarily what tell them to do or manipulate them to do. What you lead them to do.
That reminds me of a story. True story. About a guy named Eli. Now Eli was a soldier, and being a soldier, he had a Commander-in-Chief. And the reason Eli’s Commander-in-Chief was the Commander-in-Chief was because he was the biggest dude in all the land.
You know what the problem is with making the biggest dude in all the land the Commander-in-Chief? Sooner or later he’s gonna run into a bigger dude. And that’s what happened. Eli’s boss went quaking in his boots to the rear of the line because he was staring down the barrel of an overwhelming challenge.
So you know what Eli did? He quaked in his boots too. I’m talking, Give up now. Better fled than dead.
One day later – one day! – that’s Eli with his shield up, his sword drawn, charging headlong into the enemy’s camp and taking no prisoners. What made the difference? [click to continue…]
Okay I need your feedback. Now. Humor me, it’s easy. Scroll down to the comments section. Or click on the article title if you’re reading this on the feed or email, then scroll down to comments.
When you get there, give me your first response to this question.
Think of someone who is in a leadership position over your life – work, church, nonprofit, political. How does that leader most often make you feel?
One word answers are fine. Diatribes are fine. Rants are fine. Gushing is allowed, too. First names are OK. Give your answer, then click “submit” and come back to the top.
Jackie Mays was a legend. Maybe not everywhere, but certainly in some of the circles we roamed in when our kids were small. And to a couple of four-year-old twin girls, Mrs. Mays was larger than life.
Sending your kids off to school for the first time is a big adjustment. Especially when they’re your oldest, and they’re the ripe old age of four. Enter Mrs. Mays. Not only was she a faithful member of our church in Birmingham, she was one of the K-4 teachers at Grace Christian School. And a legendary gift she was, to both parents and their little darlings.
“Daddy, Mrs. Mays says…”
“Daddy, that’s not how Mrs. Mays…”
In Mrs. Mays’ class they learned the basics of reading and writing and that other “r.” They learned the pledges and the Star-Spangled Banner. (Cassie used to come home with that wistful, “I just love America.”) They learned to love God’s word, and learned the gospel and about heaven and hell and the price Jesus paid to snatch us from the one to take us to the other. And they had fun learning it all.
There were no assistants, aides, or volunteers. Just one amazing woman and a room full of four-year-olds, who most days sat mesmerized or did what was expected.
The other day I turned left out of a parking lot and started heading south on Avenue Q, between 19th and 34th Streets in Lubbock, where I live. If you’re not familiar with that stretch of road, it’s a seven-lane thoroughfare, with three lanes each heading south and north, and a turn lane. Big. Wide. Sprawling. Busy.
It was in the afternoon, around 3:00 or so. I was talking on the phone with Joel, my son. Traffic was busy enough, but not nuts. I was in the middle lane, with cars pretty much all around me – left and right, front and back. I was probably about a quarter mile from the 34th Street intersection when the strangest thing began to happen.
