One of my favorite pics of Grandpaw and Button
It was one of the many differences between us. Maybe it was generational. Maybe it had more to do with personality. I don’t know. To me it was silly at best, annoying it worst.
Corny, that’s it. It was corny.
But my dad did it without apology, and routinely yucked about it.
“This is so-and-so,” he would say, “but I call him [insert nickname here].”
To know him well enough to banter at all – which for him meant more than one conversation – usually earned you some sort of nickname.
The manager of the local bank: “I call her Cuz.”
A friend and pastor’s wife: “Here comes Trouble.”
His and Dean’s friend Dolores got a play on the pronunciation, for no apparent reason: “Doh-loh-reez.” [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on January 11, 2016
in Enlarging Your Capacity, Five LV Laws, Hoarders, Insight, Life Currency, LV Alter-egos, LV Cycle, LV Stories, Money, Principle of Increase, Time
I’m not a hoarder. Really. But I do accumulate. A lot. And that applies to just about every zone of my world.
Quick check:
- There are currently 15,993 email messages in my inbox. But that’s OK – only 7,108 of them are unread.
- When my next-door neighbor moved out a couple of months ago, she had a whole bunch of pretty good stuff she was literally giving away – said take anything I wanted. So I did. Now it’s all in my garage, and one day I’ll get around to figuring out what all I got.
- Right now I’m wearing a t-shirt I got in 2003. It’s still hole-less and relatively stainless, so it stays in the rotation, which now occupies two big drawers because one wouldn’t hold them.
- Oh, and books. Way back in the day I kept up with exactly how many I had. Suffice it to say, I lost count. Now, counting ebooks, I have three libraries in three locations. And one of my New Year’s resolutions, if I had any (which I don’t) is to actually try to read some of them.
- I have a to-do list that’s as long as your arm, but if you asked me to do something, I would most likely say yes if it were in my capacity to do it.
I could go on, but I fear that some of you who are really organized or efficient are starting to get hives, and I don’t want to cause you to stumble.
The point to all this is that I have a huge “front door” when it comes to gathering up things to do, be, and have and a naturally disorganized, balls-in-the-air approach to managing all of it.
Until I have to. Last week I had to. [click to continue…]
This is James Harrison.
He was the NFL Defensive Player of the Year in 2008.
He does pushups with a 300-pound man on his back. Lots of them.
I want him on my team.
Which team?
Whichever one needs linebackers who can do pushups with a 300-pound man lying on his back.
James has a few tattoos. One says, “PEACE” and has a cross next to it. Others are very sentimental – one for his grandmother, his sons, his mom and dad. He also has one that says “Colossians 1:16.” Here is what Colossians 1:16 says, in case you’re wondering.
“For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.”
I am NOT a tattoo dude. Not my thing. But I want James Harrison on my team.
Which team? [click to continue…]
(My dad with Great-Grandchild #9, Archer Wiley)
I’ve been simmering on this for a while, and I figured since I’m away from home this Father’s Day, this would be a good day and a good way to honor my dad. My daughter Carrie did this for me last year and reposted it again here. I also wrote this about what I learned from my Mama last year.
Regardless of the many influences and teachers I’ve been blessed by over the years, none of them has taught or influenced me more than my dad. I have mentioned often that I was blessed to have a father who actually wanted to be a dad and influenced me to want to be one. With 8 grandkids of my own now, I would say that desire has definitely passed through to another generation.
There are many practical things my dad taught me over the years, including how to drive a nail, play dominos, put on a jacket without bunching up your sleeve, ride a bicycle, and bathe the 36 different body parts that need cleaning up every day.
But what interests me most are the ideas that still speak to me today as principles. These are transferrable to almost any endeavor. I could just as well title this, “Ten Things My Dad Would Teach to Pastors,” or “Ten Things My Dad Could Teach to School Teachers.”
So here, in no certain order, are ten lessons that still speak to me most every day. I’m sure there are many more than this, but these are for starters. See if they don’t speak to you on some level, while my daddy says, “Your welcome!” [click to continue…]
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…]
Have you ever had somebody you wanted so badly to impress that you were sure to set yourself up for disaster?
Not really?
Okay, you can just laugh at my story then.
I was in my first pastorate – a lovely country church just out on the edge of a small town in southwest Alabama. People there were so kind and gracious to us. I was new and eager to impress, plus was passionate and excited about reaching people and seeing the church grow and flourish.
But this isn’t about reaching people or growing churches. It’s about chicken.
Grilling chicken, to be precise. [click to continue…]
Jim was hardly the first businessman to ever try to operate by the Golden Rule. But he was one of the few who actually put the name Golden Rule over the dry goods store he co-owned and ran in Kimmerer, Wyoming. So I suppose when your store name means, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and when you choose to live with your wife across the street from the Golden Rule store that you run, it would probably be a good idea to practice what you preach.
Fortunately, the founders of the Golden Rule chain had found in young Jim a work ethic and care for people that would make him an excellent business partner and store manager.
Simply put, Jim was a servant leader before people ever talked of such things.
All that was put to the test one night when Jim and his wife were awakened by a loud banging at his door. There stood a Chinese man who spoke no English, gesturing with great agitation, beckoning Jim to open his store.
What would you do? Point to a clock and ask the man to come back when the big hand got there and the little hand got there? Close the door and go back to bed? Call the police? [click to continue…]
It all started with that “Welcome to Mobile” sinus headache.
Ever go to bed with a mild ache that says, “You should probably address this before you get in bed?”
Yeah, about that.
I had this dull ache that turned into an evil roar at 3:30 in the morning. Sinuses. Head. Neck. Attitude. Everything was in pain.
I didn’t want to wake people up, and didn’t have a lot of options, so I tried taking a shower. That’s when my wife came in to see what was up.
Did I want some pain medicine, she asked?
Boy, did I.
Now I should mention that the “pain medicine” she referred to isn’t your basic over-the-counter pablum. This was he-man stuff… soon I’d be pain-free and loving everybody.
I should also mention that it isn’t wise to take this on an empty stomach. Bad things can happen. [click to continue…]
I never really knew that Hank Aaron was black. But I knew he was from Mobile, my home town. And, lest I forget, the Mobile Press Register would remind me daily as it tracked Aaron’s pursuit of Babe Ruth’s home run record, shattered 40 years ago today.
The Atlanta Braves moved onto my radar when I was eight years old. That’s when the franchise moved from Milwaukee to Atlanta. We started listening to Braves games on WUNI radio, where we heard guys like Milo Hamilton and Ernie Johnson – and later Pete Van Wieren and Skip Carey (my all-time favorite) – call games. Occasionally we’d watch Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean announce a TV game on the Pensacola station.
My granddaddy loved baseball.
My dad appreciated it.
I loved Henry Aaron.
He was and is a symbol to me. [click to continue…]
An imaginary story of what could have been…
Evening falls quickly in Bethany, as the sun seems to drop like a rock on the other side of the mountain, and beyond that, the Holy City of Jerusalem. And in this village – whose very name means “house of affliction,” the mood often seems to do the same.
There always seems to be something else to do in Bethany, this place of never-ending chores. This village, one of three in Israel set aside to treat the sick, is a place of care and service. Duty and devotion. Its residents usually find a sense of satisfaction there.
But not this time.
Not when duty and devotion means saying good-bye to one of its own.
One of Bethany’s most cherished servants, from a deeply respected family, has died giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. And in this House of Affliction, the hits just keep on coming.
The official time of mourning now passed, duty calls, and the people of Bethany, still reeling, must man their stations. And as 12-year-old Martha trudges through her evening chores – something she once relished doing with her Mama – no one feels the unfairness of it all more than she. [click to continue…]
