Second period was blue. Dark blue. That was the color of our gym shorts in seventh grade. Well, at least for those who sailed down the steps at Azalea Road Junior High to greet the red shorts brigade who was returning from Coach Crenshaw and Coach Perkins’ gym class.
Always anxious for coming attractions, we’d ask the boys from first period, “What are we doing?” Sometimes it was something awesome like battle ball or football. Sometimes it was something exotic like gymnastics. But one thing was sure to send a chill up my adolescent spine:
The Obstacle Course.
I should probably mention here that my athletic ability was legendary. In my own mind. But running headlong into a class of 60 or so peers left little doubt that my gateway to glory wasn’t through athletics.
And if there was any doubt – if there was any shred of athletic dignity left in me – the Obstacle Course loomed as a reminder of the inglories that awaited. [click to continue…]
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In a slumbering, snoring world, always far away in some other place…
Dreaming of another time like tomorrow or yesterday…
Can you be the one who stays awake
To the rhythms and breathing of the here and now?
Could you stay here in this moment?
Could you rest here in His love?
In a tenacious, tight-fisted tribe of self will run riot…
Demanding life on its own terms as if it were theirs to demand…
Can you be the one who joyfully lets go
And surrenders to the sweetness of His way and truth?
Could you stay here in this moment?
Could you rest here in His love? [click to continue…]
Things looked bleak for the children in George Muller’s orphanage at Ashley Downs in England. Muller had built his ministry as a model of how God would provide for him with no specific requests for support.
But on this day, it was time for breakfast, and the cupboards were bare. There was no food in the kitchen, no money in the bank. A small girl whose father was a close friend of Muller was visiting in the home. Muller took her hand and said, “Come and see what our Father will do.”
In the dining room, long tables were set with empty plates and empty mugs. Muller gathered the children together and prayed, “Dear Father, we thank You for what You are going to give us to eat.”
Immediately, they heard a knock at the door. [click to continue…]
(Inspired by and dedicated to a great group of leaders I have had the privilege of working with over the last 12 weeks.)
It was a lonely life, but Jesse’s baby boy made the most of it. His brothers probably learned the same way he did, but had gone on to other exploits.
David? He was confined to the idiot patrol. He was his father’s shepherd. And it was there – alone with the dumbest animals on the planet – that David learned to be a leader.
He was alone when a lion came and seized a lamb from his flock. He was alone when a bear did the same. He was alone when he delivered those sheep from the valley of the shadow of death. And the passion, courage, and wisdom he gained there – alone – forged pathways of leadership in Israel that were still in place years after his death.
Goliath? That was just mop-up duty.
It’s true that leadership is on display when everybody else is looking. It’s also true that leadership is being forged when no one is. You may feel you’re in a wilderness, stuck making up silly songs to sing to the sheep. In fact, you may assume that your solitude or lack of position means you’re no leader at all.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Here are eight ways to influence an entire generation, even when nobody is looking to you as the obvious solution to their leadership needs. [click to continue…]
These days I make a trip to the bank just about every day. I’m on a first name basis with most of the tellers, which feels good. And most days it’s a pretty straightforward deal – one or two deposits, mostly business. Even a left-handed guy like me can get that right. About the worst mistake I ever made was driving around in a cluttered truck and realizing that beneath all that clutter was a deposit I forgot to make. For about a week.
Then came Friday. Four deposits. Three different accounts. And one of those was a check I’d written to myself to deposit in our personal account.
I pulled up to the window and realized I hadn’t endorsed the check I’d written to myself, so while the probie teller waited for me patiently, I paused to do that.
I’d venture to guess there was about a six-inch gap between the deposit drawer and my truck window. And somewhere in that six inches, as I reached for the drawer with a pile of bank bid-ness, that freshly-endorsed check was sucked away. Weird even for the dusty plains, the drive-through lanes had formed a wind tunnel. And the wind tunnel took my check.
My assumption: Oh. This is frustrating. I’ll have to get out of the truck and pick it up off the ground.
My reality: Y’all, it was gone. Vaporized. On its way to Amarillo, I suppose. I always fuss because Amarillo gets all the rain (out here we refer to it as “moisture”). Now they got my check. [click to continue…]
You were made to wear a crown. And you were made to give crowns away. But this is no token symbol or forgotten relic from a bygone era. It’s a choice you have every day. Either wear your crown or someone else will. And choose well who you give your crowns to.
Crowns. They’re a rare commodity in our culture, unless somebody is playing checkers, crying at the end of the beauty pageant, or eating at Burger King with the kids. Presidents, judges and governors take oaths. Congress takes your money. Modern Olympians bring home the gold, but nobody gets a head full of garland any more.
That said, we give and receive crowns all the time. Check out the dictionary for the verb form of “crown” and you’ll find language like:
- To invest with regal power; enthrone.
- To confer honor, dignity, or reward upon.
- To surmount or be the highest part of.
- To bring to completion or successful conclusion; to consummate.
Have you done any crowning lately? I daresay you have. The only question is, who is wearing the crowns you are offering? [click to continue…]
I enjoy taking pictures the same way an 8-year-old “artist” enjoys sidewalk chalk. But as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with old cameras. They remind me of some of my own heritage, and they fascinate me as I imagine where they have traveled and what they have captured on film, or lately on disk. I’ve often said to myself, maybe one day I’d like to add a few to my own old camera collection.
Well. This weekend the motive, means and opportunity all converged as we travelled to my son’s house for Easter weekend, and I came home with these 23 treasures. Most of them are in the “junk” category. But I did pick up a really old (still working) movie projector, a circa-1900 Conley wooden box camera, and a couple of Kodaks from the 1950s. [click to continue…]
Okay, let’s stretch a little and use some imagination. Suppose you received that message on your smart phone or email. Looking beyond the earthly trappings – a church house, your bedroom or office or favorite nature connection – what does the “usual time” and “usual place” for a meeting with God look like?
I daresay for most of us, me included, we become Saints in the Presence of a Busy God. We pray, we worship, and we listen to a God who’s gettin’ it done. And on our best days, we come in faith that He will actually use us to help execute His plan and that He will get some things done for us.
Anything wrong with that? Absolutely not. After all, our God has unlimited power, knowledge and presence. And He invites us to trust Him to use it and to join Him in effecting His plan – His work. See if you can relate to some of these “meeting places” with God. [click to continue…]
Who are you?
No, that’s your name. Let’s try again.
Who are you?
You’re already answering that question with what you say, how you spend your time, how you spend your money, how you relate to other people, and how your emotions are triggered. But let’s look a little deeper.
Who. Not what are you, but who? I was scrolling through LinkedIn the other day and was fascinated by the “what” language people used to describe themselves. Of course, there are the standard job titles such as Senior Loan Officer and Whatever Bank. But then there are the more creative types like, “Thinker, Writer, Philanthropist,” “Dreamer,” and “Solution Architect.”
Sorta made me want to come up with my own list. Recliner tester. Dog herder. APA Policeman (if you have to ask what APA is, never mind). I don’t think I’ll list any of those, however. There is a difference between what you do and who you are. [click to continue…]
Second period was blue. Dark blue. That was the color of our gym shorts in seventh grade. Well, at least for those who sailed down the steps at Azalea Road Junior High to greet the red shorts brigade who was returning from Coach Crenshaw and Coach Perkins’ gym class.
