I had a head-on collision with the facts this week. Must not have been wearing a seat belt. Brain belt, either. The sad truth is, I took in the sights and the sounds, the data and the details, and accepted them at fake value. (Hmmm. If I keep this up, maybe I should get a job in journalism. But I digress….)
Make no mistake about it – facts are important. If your baby has a 102-degree fever, you’re $68.32 in the hole at the bank, or Congress is about to mortgage your great-grandchildren, that is meaningful information. The problem isn’t a shortage of information, and the solution isn’t to bury our heads in the sand. What matters is what we do with the information we have.
Still in something akin to panic mode, I got a gentle news flash from the Lord: [click to continue…]
Okay, all you Facers, Spacers, and Twitter Chasers! Have you had this little thrill yet? You’re tooling and tweeting through Virtual Disneyworld, smiling and waving at the world… and then you see her (or him).
Your blood runs cold.
The Rolaids are calling.
You do a quick peek into their world, hoping to find some sort of misery. The agony of their defeat will mean the thrill of your victory.
Bottom line: you just don’t like ‘em.
But wouldn’t you know it? That arrogant ass or deceiving cheater from your past is living sublimely. No worries or cares, it seems. And there it is… swelling up in all its greenness and meanness, beneath the veneer of your niceness and – dare I say it? – godliness.
Not a social networker? Let’s start from this angle.
Trust your first instincts. You and I are talking, and somewhere in the conversation I look at you and say, very kindly and sincerely, [click to continue…]
Last week I was having a “what do I do” conversation with a youth pastor in another city. Seems he found himself at an impasse with his boss – the senior pastor of the church – over what leadership was supposed to look like. His take on it: the “leader” isn’t leading anybody. Not him, not the others involved in the problem. Nobody.
A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a frustrated children’s pastor about a supervisor who was repeatedly letting important details fall through the cracks. It got so bad, the entire church leadership team was hindered in getting their work done.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve counseled or consulted with employees or constituents – inside and outside Church World – who are crying out for visionary, heart-based leadership. All they get instead are insecure emperors, oilers of the machinery, or absent-minded trips down memory lane.
Whenever I hear yet another story of position holders who are failing the people they’re supposed to be leading, I have two knee-jerk reactions. First, I want to take up the constituents’ offense. I want to bark and growl and roll my eyes and look incredulously and fuss and fume. Second, I wonder if anybody could issue the same complaint about me if they were completely honest.
Just for laughs, why don’t we stick out necks out and try on an idea. Leadership failures aren’t the result of somebody setting out to ruin an organization or to make your life or work miserable. (Hey, I said “try it on”… if it doesn’t fit, we can fuss and fume some more later.) Assuming that’s true, then, where do we go wrong? How do leaders begin to suck the life out of people or organizations? Here are 10 things to watch for: [click to continue…]
“So I guess you’ll write something about this in your article,” my dad said.
“Probably,” was my reply. Probably, indeed. I don’t know what you do with your fish stories, but mine wound up in the freezer. And somewhere in heaven, Jonah must have been smiling.
Long ago now – about 15 years – I took the kids fishing. This trip was a lot more fun previous ones because they were able to bait their own hooks. All totaled, they caught 18 fish, and loved every minute of it. I just caught one. But I had no complaints.
“Asking to be caught.” That was my interpretation of what Daddy called “guarding his nest.” I called him Big Boy, and for good reason. He was the biggest bass I had ever seen in all my years fishing the family pond. And what was most amazing was that I actually saw him! Hovering in the water there, about three feet from the dam, he just stayed in one position.
Silently, breathlessly, I flirted with Big Boy for an hour. [click to continue…]
Okay, I get it. Dickens County (pop. 2,762) is hiring at the local correctional facility in Spur (pop. 1,088).
But is it just me?
Or is there sometimes more than one way to read an invitation?
Wanna join our family? Just keep drinking and driving, Otis. Or just knock your wife around or knock off that store.
We’re an equal opportunity… employer… with benefits. We offer three squares a day, with health and dental as needed. (Or we’ll at least get the local vet to pull that bad tooth.)
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job’s a hassle and kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you”
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me
-Harry Chapin, “Cat’s in the Cradle”
He’s an old man now. His physical vision is virtually gone; his heartbeat will soon follow. His spiritual vision? That’s another story. It’s still bright and filled with fire and hope. But it’s a vision that now sees through the eyes of other men. He has no children of his own, but does have a relationship with a man who may as well be. He’s one of those blessed individuals who knows his time is up, and who faces eternity with no regrets. And now he writes the man he calls his son in the faith. His future looks bright; he can only pray the same for Tim.
Stand steady, and don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Bring others to Christ. Leave nothing undone that you ought to do. I say this because I won’t be around to help you very much longer. My time has almost run out. Very soon now I will be on my way to heaven. I have fought long and hard for my Lord, and through it all I have kept true to him. And now the time has come for me to stop fighting and rest (2 Timothy 4:5-7, LB).
A decade before I became a father myself, Harry Chapin sucker-slapped dads everywhere. [click to continue…]
“I promise.” Has a certain charm, doesn’t it? Power, too! Were there no promises, business or trade in the world would not exist. Without promises, you would never experience friendship. There would be no families, no churches, no faith if there were no promises. Think of what your life would be like without the promises that have been made to you.
“And I believe you.” Imagine what that does to the one making the promise. The encouragement to faithfulness! The linking of two hearts! The formation of a solid friendship! The birth of a profitable business relationship! In Bible terms, we call it, “faith.” In the real world, we can’t live without it.
Much of our lives are spent making, breaking, and keeping promises. When we’re not doing that, we’re probably in the process of believing or doubting the promises others have made to us. Think about it: [click to continue…]
OK, so there’s this guy who’s asking his brother-in-law for a major favor. This isn’t like lending a wheelbarrow or babysitting the kids for a weekend. This order’s pretty tall. As in,
Could you leave your family?
Oh, and your country, too?
And help me babysit my family of three million?
Hey, what’s a family for?
And get this – all indications are that that the brother-in-law did it.
Instinctively, we crave knowing that if we reach, somebody will come to pick us up.
Babies grow up, but this desire never leaves.
We learn to mask it, but the question remains.
Many of us learn to be the ones who pick up and hold. But inevitably, even for pastors and nurses, parents and life-nannies, life takes us back to that First Question: If I hold up my arms, will somebody – ANYBODY – pick me up?
Be the “yes” to somebody’s First Question. Tomorrow, it may be you who’s doing the reaching.
I had a head-on collision with the facts this week. Must not have been wearing a seat belt. Brain belt, either. The sad truth is, I took in the sights and the sounds, the data and the details, and accepted them at fake value. (Hmmm. If I keep this up, maybe I should get a job in journalism. But I digress….)
Okay, all you Facers, Spacers, and Twitter Chasers! Have you had this little thrill yet? You’re tooling and tweeting through Virtual Disneyworld, smiling and waving at the world… and then you see her (or him).
Last week I was having a “what do I do” conversation with a youth pastor in another city. Seems he found himself at an impasse with his boss – the senior pastor of the church – over what leadership was supposed to look like. His take on it: the “leader” isn’t leading anybody. Not him, not the others involved in the problem. Nobody.
“So I guess you’ll write something about this in your article,” my dad said. 
From a billboard in Ralls, Texas…
He’s an old man now. His physical vision is virtually gone; his heartbeat will soon follow. His spiritual vision? That’s another story. It’s still bright and filled with fire and hope. But it’s a vision that now sees through the eyes of other men. He has no children of his own, but does have a relationship with a man who may as well be. He’s one of those blessed individuals who knows his time is up, and who faces eternity with no regrets. And now he writes the man he calls his son in the faith. His future looks bright; he can only pray the same for Tim. 
“I promise.” Has a certain charm, doesn’t it? Power, too! Were there no promises, business or trade in the world would not exist. Without promises, you would never experience friendship. There would be no families, no churches, no faith if there were no promises. Think of what your life would be like without the promises that have been made to you.
OK, so there’s this guy who’s asking his brother-in-law for a major favor. This isn’t like lending a wheelbarrow or babysitting the kids for a weekend. This order’s pretty tall. As in,
Every baby enters this world reaching out or up.