It was a typical piece of junk mail – the next great offer, the last of the big bargains, real savings on my long distance, or something like that. Just before it sailed off into File-13 history, something at the bottom of the page caught my eye. It said: “Four things that you can never get back… the spoken word… your past life… wasted time… and neglected opportunity.”
Never has something so close to oblivion been so profound. So much of our lives are like the ebb and flow of the tides. So much comes and goes, only to come back again. But there are those other parts of our lives that are like a shooting star – they don’t come back. Other things may come that look similar, but that’s only a matter of appearance. Fact is, there are four things you can never get back. [click to continue…]
Some of the rules have changed.
- Time Magazine, in it’s provocative “Ten Ideas Changing the World Right Now,” reports that having a job is cool again. Rather than regarding employment as a necessary evil to be escaped as soon as possible, jobs are now considered an asset. (Nothing like losing something to recognize its worth, I guess).
- Someone just told me about his father, who for eight years tried to make a go of his home-based business and now, in his 60s, realizes the need for an employer. He’s finding it difficult.
- My favorite job/career-hunting book, What Color is Your Parachute?, which has been updated annually since 1970, was back on the best-seller list in December.
So with the new demand for paying day-jobs and the shortening supply, I thought it might be helpful offer some strategies for improving your chances. [click to continue…]
Interested in getting a head start on your firewood for next winter? I once heard of a unique way to drop a tree. It seems some villagers in the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific have learned how to conquer the really big ones. If a tree is too large to be felled with an ax, the natives cut it down by yelling at it. (I’m not making this up. I read it in a book, so it must be true.) Just at dawn these woodsmen with special powers sneak up on a tree and suddenly scream at it at the top of their lungs. They do this every day for 30 days, and the tree dies and falls over. The theory is that yelling kills the spirit of the tree. According to the villagers, it always works.
Felling by yelling. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Crazy enough to be true.
I’ll have to admit, though, I’ve never seen it happen. I’ve never yelled at a tree (and I wouldn’t tell you if I had). Not for thirty days. Not for one day. Furthermore, I’ve never seen anyone else yell at a tree. So I can’t say by experience that hollering works on trees.
But it does work on kids. I have seen that happen.
Works on spouses, too.
Some people yell at their cars or their washing machine, and it doesn’t seem to do much good. But I’ve seen it drop a few pastors. And I’ve seen it kill the spirit of a friend or two as well. [click to continue…]
This is about the difference between creeds and deeds. Action and diction. Your words and your walk.
I’m assuming if you’re reading this that you want to be known and respected as a man or woman of truth. That may be a big assumption, of course, since it’s possible that you went to bed last night with the happy memory of somebody you conned.
But if you’re a believer, God has placed a desire in your heart to please Him, and truth is one of the things that does that. So is love. So it’s no surprise that the Bible describes spiritual maturity as the fine art of “speaking the truth in love.”
And it is a fine art. What do you do when words and wishes collide? What do you say when your honest thoughts and feelings aren’t very loving?
Years ago I was sitting in a therapy group, where a couple of people were talking about their “inner child” and their “inner adolescent.” It was a poignant discussion by some people who were sincerely seeking healing and growth. But I couldn’t help but think, “My problem isn’t my inner child, or my inner adolescent. My problem is with my inner jackass.”
I figured it would be better to stay quiet. Love? Maybe. Self-protection? No doubt about it. I said it best when I said nothing at all.
The greatest love tends to show up in the fewest words. [click to continue…]
I make my living with words. Because of that, like a great cook always on the lookout for new recipes, it’s always fun to me to hear of a new way of expressing ideas. Sometimes it’s clever and revealing; at other times it’s just dang funny.
More than anything else, however, having an updated arsenal of new vocab can give you lots of cool points at places where people gather to talk about stuff – places like water coolers, school gyms, or church foyers.
So in a humble attempt to help you exude coolness and impressiveness in your conversations, here are a few words you can toss into your next conversation. Of course, as with any new or strenuous activity, we at LifeVesting suggest you consult with a physician. Or at least practice in a mirror.
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Somewhere up in heaven, Aunt Ruth is probably hooting. I know she would be if she were still around here.
Aunt Ruth (who was neither my aunt, nor was she named “Ruth”) used to love to catch preachers with their foot in their mouth; it was something of a hobby to her. Nothing could penetrate her sometimes-sharp exterior and produce uncontrollable laughter like hearing that a prim and proper “man of God” had just said something stupid. And she was cruel with it! One little snafu from you-know-who, and I’d hear about it for weeks. And between guffaws, as she would gasp for air, she’d always sound the same warning. If I spelled it the way she said it, it would read like this:
“You gotta watch them woids!”
Rather than get offended, I played along. We often entertained each other with stories we’d heard of other preachers. Like the time a preacher friend of mine said three times in a sermon, “I’m praying that God would make our church a cesspool of His love! A cesspool of His grace! A cesspool of his power!”
He was thinking artesian well. But that’s not what his folks were smelling at the moment.
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(A Turning Point Story)
“I never thought the doors of a church would be locked,” said Danny Kincaid. But locked they were. So Danny spent the night on the church bus. It was the only place he could find to put a roof over his head.
Danny was in his early 20s; I was in my early college years. I met Danny after some other people (who weren’t exactly thrilled about his accommodations) met him first. They introduced him to our youth pastor, who led Danny to faith in Christ. He also offered Danny a place to stay – his own home – until he could get on his feet. That’s where I came in. I was a youth ministry intern, and got to know Danny as he hung out with Willard and the rest of us. Way too old for the youth group, Danny was a fixture around the youth staff as we practiced a version of “discipleship by hanging out.”
One day Danny and I were driving around town looking for him a job and place to live, and he told me a story that haunts me to this day. When he was very young, through a series of circumstances beyond his control, he came to live with his grandparents. I don’t remember why. Maybe it was a divorce. Maybe his parents died. At any rate, Danny wound up growing up in South Carolina with a grandmother he still referred to as “Mommy.”
As Danny became a teenager, he went through the typical rebellious stages that most adolescents encounter – made all the more extreme because his generation gap was times-two. He had a temper. And a mouth. And he knew how to flex both.
One day Danny and Mommy got into an argument, and it got pretty heated. She said some things. He said some things. They got madder and madder. Finally, Danny screamed out, “I wish you were dead!” And he stormed out of their mobile home and slammed the door.
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A Turning Point Story
This is for all you jocks, coach dads, and soccer moms out there who never were in the band or had a kid in one. Other than my year of football futility, the primary point of my non-academic energy was spent in the band. And during football season, I got to wear the fuzzy hat. Yep, I was the drum major – the band’s field director during my junior and senior year.
The high point of marching season was traveling to either the Florida or Mississippi coast to participate in a regional band contest. Can you imagine the energy, the excitement that fills a stadium when more than 30 bands gather and perform, with no football team in sight for miles? Unlike football games, where half the crowd heads for the concession stands, at a contest people in the stands cheer loudly for every slick move, every powerful burst through the line. And did I mention that there isn’t a football team in sight?
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Recession. It’s the word on everybody’s mind these days. Congress, in an election year, is scrambling to give people some of their money back in order to avoid it (which begs the obvious question…). All the media, the experts, and the average Joes are all talking about some aspect of it. Somebody did a poll a couple of days ago, and it seems the average American believes if we’d just get out of Iraq, the recession would get better. Uh, OK, I guess.
What most of us are interested in is, can I keep what’s happening in a national and global economy from happening to me? Yes! But first it’s important to understand that economists are measuring only one thing.
What to recession-proof your life? Get a bigger definition of the word, “economy.” Try this one as I first heard it from Jack Taylor: Economy is the exchange of all the commodities of life.
If you’re finding yourself a bit short on cash, or if you’re worried about it, why not try a different kind of currency? Here are seven ways you can be wealthy, with or without money:
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