My sister and I used to make mud tea. We didn’t actually call it that, nor did we actually drink the swill, but when we were small, we’d play around outside with spare dishes. One of our concoctions invariably involved mixing a little dirt ‘n’ water to make a tasty drink. When we stirred and stirred our little elixir, the water would take on that irresistible shade of brown. When we stopped stirring, it stayed muddy. But when we gave it a rest and went off to other pursuits, the water would always be clearer when we returned. The mud would have settled to the bottom.
Your life is like that glass in our backyard. When stirred up, it gets muddy. It’s easy to become confused, distorted, foggy, fuzzy and dull. Under the pressure of circumstances, it’s harder to see issues clearly and make good, clear, meaningful decisions.
So… had any “muddy water days” lately? The phone won’t quit ringing, the baby won’t stop crying, everybody needs your help at the same time, you have major, life-changing decisions to make, you have a week’s worth of money to pay a month’s worth of bills, you spend the entire day running about 30 minutes behind, and then you turn on the radio and some clown is singing, “It’s a Beautiful Morning.”
You aren’t alone, you know. [click to continue…]
“I will recognize that this day is a gift to me. Today and every day I will take the time to encourage the encourager. I will recognize that my greatest gifts become available to others only when I offer them first to myself and to my God.” -from “The Encourager’s Creed“
“Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything.” -Psalm 46:10, The Message
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His innovative, radical ministry shook and shaped the town where he lived. He started a church from scratch and tossed tradition on its ear. He insisted that worship services be seeker sensitive – events that people would actually enjoy attending. His preaching was simple and plain, filled with word pictures, practical application, and charisma.
He led his people to reach out with God’s love by establishing an innovative system of literature distribution and visitation. In a matter of months his church went from mission to mega, with more than a thousand people attending his Thursday night Bible study.
He was a prayer warrior. This guy spent an hour a day just praying for the Jews! Another hour daily in general prayer and meditation. An hour and a half in breakfast and family prayers. Six hours in prayer and devotional reading on Sundays.
Oh, and then there was the revival. Returning from the Middle East, he found the town turned upside down with a fresh invasion of the Spirit. People came nightly to hear him preach the gospel. Hundreds came to Christ. Without question, he was one of the greatest Christian leaders any generation has ever witnessed.
He died in 1843.
Age – 29. [click to continue…]
Doc Johns wasn’t a doctor; he was a pharmacist. But ever since Bo Brannon ripped his eyelid on a pretty mean briar while playing Capture the Flag at night on an old lake bed and proceeded to bleed like a stuck pig, Marion J. Johns became known to us as “Doc.” As Bo was howling at the invisible moon, sure that life as he knew it was over, somebody in the Boy Scout troop said, “Let’s take him to Jeff’s dad… he’s a doctor!”
So Doc it was. Bo lived; his gaping wound by night was just a pretty ugly scratch by day. And Doc Johns – then the Assistant Scoutmaster, had a new name. [click to continue…]
I went to the Fred Flintstone School of Golf. Simple philosophy: when in doubt, hit the ball really hard. When not in doubt, hit the ball really hard.
Maybe you’ve heard that old saying about golf – “You drive for show, and putt for dough.” Suffice it to say, I’ve never made any money hitting a ball in a hole with a stick. I have, however, put on a show or two by hitting a ball off a stick.
All of that is fine and fun, so long as you’re dealing with woods and wedges. Life, however, is a different story. A mere proverb in the Gentleman’s Game is brutal reality in the real world:
It’s not how you drive, but how you arrive.
Not how you start, but how you finish. Magilla Gorilla and Fred Flintstone need not apply.
Life is filled with real and proverbial stories of people who started well, but finished poorly. Rather than leaving a heritage, with inspiring and ennobling footsteps to follow, their names and stories are relegated to footnotes and questions that begin with, “Whatever happened to…”?
It’s up to you. Will you be a driver, or an arriver? I must warn you, if you decide to go the distance, the deck is stacked against you. This is a marathon, not a dash, and you’re surrounded by gloriously mediocre runners and a grandstand full of fat critics. But you do have a Coach – the Lord Jesus, Author and Finisher of your faith. Under His direction, you’ll learn to identify these six fool makers and finish breakers: [click to continue…]
Remember the story Aesop told about the goose and the golden egg? The implications and applications are powerful, so let’s take another look.
The fable is about a poor farmer who one day discovered in the nest of his pet goose a glittering golden egg. At first, he thought it must be some kind of trick. But as he started to throw the egg aside, he had second thoughts and took it in to be appraised instead.
The egg was pure gold! The farmer couldn’t believe his good fortune. He became even more incredulous the following day when the experience was repeated. Day after day, he awakened to rush to the nest and find another golden egg. He became fabulously wealthy; it all seemed too good to be true.
But with his increasing wealth came greed and impatience. [click to continue…]
Behind the home my dad grew up in, and lives in today, my grandfather built a smokehouse around 78 years ago. Every winter, when the weather got extremely cold, my grandparents, my dad and his siblings, and their farm hands would kill 10-12 hogs – 3-4 at a time. I’ll spare you the details (you can thank me later).
My grandmother’s job was to smoke the meat. After the meat had been salted down for 21 days, she would take it out, dip it into warm water to get the salt out of it, then hang it in the smokehouse on poles. She would smoke the meat really slowly for two weeks, keeping the green wood barely smoldering. She wouldn’t let the fire blaze up or have any heat to it. She kept it going just enough to cure the meat and give it that good smoked flavor.
Here’s how she described life with the smokehouse: [click to continue…]
During the American Civil War, General William T. Sherman was driving his troops through Georgia on his decisive march to the sea. He had left a small contingent of men behind in a fort on Kennesaw Mountain to guard the rations. General John Bell Hood of Texas attacked the fort, and a fierce battle followed. One-third of the men were killed or wounded, and J. M. Corse, the general in command, was severely injured in the fighting.
Just as he was about to hoist up the white flag and surrender, a message came through the signal corps set up on a chain of mountains. General Sherman was within 15 miles of the fort and had sent the message: “Hold fast. We are coming.” Those few words so encouraged the defenders that they held on and kept the fort from falling into the hands of their attackers.
You and I are a little like that contingent of Union soldiers. We’re part of a victorious army that has been left for a season to be stewards of the resources of our Commander-in-Chief.
And we’re under attack. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on April 17, 2009
in Allocating Your Resources, Consumers, Enlarging Your Capacity, Executing Your Plan, Exploring the Possibilities, Five LV Laws, Following Your Passion, Gamblers, Hoarders, Life Currency, Love, LV Alter-egos, LV Cycle, Money, Pleasers, Principle of Abundance, Protecting Your Investment, Waiting
This week a friend sent me a poignant and compelling image that describes what it’s like to live in a climate or with a spirit of fear. But the image is so strong, I think it describes anybody who feels as though they are in a no-win situation.
I feel like a grasshopper on the ocean hanging onto a leaf. I cling to the leaf to keep from drowning. If I eat the leaf to keep from starving, I lose my life preserver, and drown.
I’ll tell you later what he learned in the process. But can you relate? [click to continue…]
I have a confession to make. I can’t pass a mirror without looking at it. Call me weird, call me vain, just don’t call me when a mirror is close by. I probably won’t hear you.
Sometimes I primp. Sometimes I frown. Sometimes I actually impress myself and sometimes I just sigh. But whatever the reaction, it won’t cure me of wanting to take another look next time.
I have a hunch that I’m not alone. A lot of people spend a lot of time looking at themselves in the looking glass. Mirrors are an important part of our culture. Some people cover their walls at home with them. Michael Jackson once recorded a song about it. And where would we be without that fairy-tale question, “Mirror, Mirror on the wall…?”
Did you know that mirrors can lie? [click to continue…]
Last week at a yet-to-be-revealed location, the President of the United States was assassinated.
Don’t rush to your local paper – you won’t find any mention of it in the press. Many people believe it was a conspiracy, but there will be no arrests. Nor will you hear of trials, sentences, or executions. And lest I start an ugly rumor, I’m not talking about President Bush, or President-elect Obama. This president didn’t actually make it to the White House, or Congress, or even a voting booth before he was cut down.
Fact is, he never made it to the nursery.
The President wasn’t alone. Also killed last week were six federal judges, thirteen members of Congress, two state governors, thirty-one legislators, and more than a hundred teachers at various levels. Figure a dozen or so preachers into the mix, but they don’t count. Add to it almost a thousand nameless welfare recipients, a couple hundred various professionals, and some amazing artists and musicians.
All dead. The killings were executed(!) flawlessly.
All defenseless. No one had time to call the police, send for Secret Security agents, or even pull a weapon. One or two might have raised a fist in self-defense. Not much help, though. [click to continue…]