Picture a couple of goldfish in a cartoon. Only instead of a fishbowl, they’re holed up in a blender. One looks to the other and says, “The stress here is killing me!”
We had that cartoon at a place I used to work.
We also had that kind of stress. We never quite knew when somebody might show up and punch “Puree.”
Morale was hard to come by in that environment because we presented one set of values to the public, but lived by a different set behind the office doors. Information was available only on a “need to know” basis, and most people, most of the time, didn’t “need to know.” Accountability ran down a one-way street. Underlings were accountable for everything, including their email accounts and their bank accounts, while “leaders” answered to no one.
Oh… did I mention that this was a church? [click to continue…]
Years ago Ken Medema told the story of an experience he had at a youth function in Atlanta. He had been invited to play for a youth party after church one night, and he entertained the kids with some of his old 50s love songs. After his part was over, somebody fired up the record player (yes, record player) and started playing some other music, and these church kids started to dance.
Ken remained off to the side; he had been raised in a home that forbade dancing.
Soon, however, what he called “this wallflower of a girl” approached him shyly and asked, “Would you like to dance?”
I should mention at this point that Ken is completely blind. He was horrified at the thought of being laughed out of the room for trying something so completely risky and foreign to him, and he tried to beg off.
But Miss Wallflower wasn’t taking no for an answer. [click to continue…]
Have you ever been in a situation where somebody hated you just for showing up? Maybe you did something really stupid or offensive. Maybe they hate everybody who shows up. Maybe they’re picking up somebody else’s offense or acting out long-held prejudices. Regardless of what set it off, the bottom line is, they don’t like you.
And what’s not to like, right?
Everybody with any intelligence can see how awesome you are. And yet some arrogant bozo (or bozette) won’t give you the time of day. Or worse, is outwardly hostile.
What do you do?
Do you out-hostile them? Or practice your own version of the Cold War?
Do you fire up your iPod with your favorite Willie Whiner and His All-Reject Orchestra tunes and have a pity party?
Do you ask God to whup ‘em or smite ‘em?
Or do you use this as an occasion to facilitate growth, understanding, renewal, and – dare I say it? – respect and friendship? [click to continue…]
Imagine a giant stadium, and you’re in it.
As in, on the field.
You’re engaged in a contest that will test every fiber of your strength, will, endurance, and confidence. Sometimes you’re on defense, and the task is to stand your ground against an opponent that has considerable resources. Sometimes you’re on offense, and the task is to recapture lost ground or gain new ground as you outwit, outmaneuver, or overpower your enemy.
Let’s just go ahead and dispense with the obvious. I like you and everything. But left to your own game plan or abilities, you’re cosmic road kill. Dead meat with all the trimmings.
You. Can’t. Win. This.
Heck, you won’t even make the uniforms look pretty.
Oh, and did I mention… this is no game. This is your life. The visible and the invisible. The temporal and the eternal. The private and the very public. The “spiritual” and the “secular” (as if there is any distinction).
Fortunately, you do have some weapons at your disposal that are mighty through God. And there is a pathway – a strategy that leads to prevailing strength and power. [click to continue…]
Ronnie Blair spent a lifetime waiting for the perfect moment. And he never seemed to find it.
He waited to ask Lisa Crane to the Senior Prom. Ricky Styles beat him it to it. Now they’re married with two kids and a third one on the way.
He waited to apply for the college scholarship from his father’s employer; didn’t want to appear too eager, he said. He missed the deadline.
He waited for the perfect job to present itself upon graduation, and in the process passed up three good choices. He wound up taking an entry-level hourly position not even in his field.
He waited for the perfect time to ask Leanne Wilson to marry him, and to her it seemed as though he was afraid of commitment. They wound up possibly the only couple in town who got engaged as the result of an argument.
In Ronnie’s life, the pattern was always the same. [click to continue…]
Grab a pen and a legal pad. You’ve got some writing to do, and you get one chance to get this right. Soon your number’s going to be called, and there’ll be no more letters, no more encouraging, no more leading…
…no more living.
Everything you have worked for on this side of eternity is hanging in the balance. And the guy you’ve picked as your successor – your standard bearer?
He’s AWOL.
Some people, when they burn out, act out. This guy burned out, and hid out.
And you have one chance to light a fire under him before somebody, well, lights a fire under you, so to speak. What would you say? How would you say it? Is this a time for force or finesse? Rah-rah or sob-sob? [click to continue…]
The other day I found a smoking gun. And it’s still smoking.
It’s the greatest test of your character, hands down. Other than pride, it’s the most deceptive phenomenon we humans encounter because it takes so many hidden forms.
It’s the deceptive driver behind many of the ways we think, act, or speak. It’s often the reason we give up in the face of pressure, avoid caring for certain people, or keep a long memory of others’ offenses. It drives us to compare ourselves with others, point out others’ faults and weaknesses, or brag about ourselves to impress people. It leads us to lie to protect ourselves, assume the worst about the future, or treat people with suspicion or jealousy or just plain rudeness.
Yes, I’m talking about fear. And it can lead to some galactically stupid choices. I’ve had mine. You’ve probably had yours. Let’s pick on somebody else. [click to continue…]
Years ago a group of scientists determined that the minerals and chemicals within our bodies were worth about $.99. Factor in inflation, and that’s probably somewhere around $3.50 or so today.
Viewed in another way, however, somebody estimated that the energy production of the human body, based upon the number of atoms within a 150-pound person, could generate enough atomic energy to be valued at $85 billion.
A hundred and fifty pounds, huh? That would make me worth, hmmm… well, never mind.
The lesson here? Don’t let a scientist try to figure out how much you’re worth!
While you’re at it, don’t build your value on what anybody else tells you.
Not the guys and dolls in Coolvillle.
Not your teachers, important as they are (remember the infamous fourth-grade teacher who send Thomas Edison home, saying he was too stupid to learn?).
Not even the people who love you most, and here’s why: The more you are loved by somebody, the more you tend to expect unconditional approval from them. When they do express frustration or disapproval, it weighs a whole lot more on your heart. I once met a 56-year-old woman who said, “Andy, just once I wish I could hear my [78-year-old] mother say I’d done something right.”
So where do you look to find your value? Here’s a suggestion: [click to continue…]
It takes time and intention, this Soul-Anchoring Moment,
And a willingness to wait for those fleeting experiences
That are tomorrow’s soul roots.
(Did I mention a willingness to wait?)
A Soul-Anchoring Moment…
Maybe it’s the possibility of holding all of your scattered grandchildren in one day.
Or a chance to hear again the sounds common to your birthplace
And sigh with satisfaction at the most trivial and most special of memories. [click to continue…]
You probably never knew Lillian Hearst. But she sent you a gift, and I wanted to share it with you. It won’t be necessary to send a thank-you note – just pay it forward by sharing her gift with someone else. Oh, and of course, use the gift yourself.
Lillian lived to be 92 years old. I was honored to serve for a time as her pastor. She was highly respected in our community – a “lady of the old school,” with a heart for people and a love for the Lord.
A few days after her funeral, I was visiting at the Magnolia Retirement Center, where Lillian lived. There someone told me that for as long as they had known her, up until the time of the stroke that ultimately took her life, Mrs. Hearst always had something planned to do the next day. There was always tomorrow – something to look forward to, something to prepare for, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. It sounds rather simple, but it struck me as very profound. Maybe that’s one of the reasons Mrs. Hearst lived so long.
Tomorrow. What a charming word! [click to continue…]
Picture a couple of goldfish in a cartoon. Only instead of a fishbowl, they’re holed up in a blender. One looks to the other and says, “The stress here is killing me!”
