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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…]
Spring is a season of new beginnings and exquisite beauty. Everything that just appeared lifeless and grey is bursting forth with new energy and color. I call it the Renaissance, because it reminds me of new birth. And for me, that’s a multi-dimensional experience.
Because so much life appears all around us, it’s easy to assume that renewal just sort of happens automatically. But nothing could be further from the truth. Springtime represents a triumph – a victory won through a fierce, even savage struggle and patient determination.
We love, for example, to see the trees or vines begin their growth for the year. But it’s easy to forget how many of those plants were pruned – some of them nearly all the way back to the ground – in order to produce maximum beauty.
Plowing is another struggle of spring. [click to continue…]
“What we have here,” said Cool Hand Luke, “is a failure to communicate.”
Sometimes the problem doesn’t lie in what we say, or even how we say it.
Sometimes the problem is in the noise surrounding the signal.
Sometimes we hide our message, hoping it blends in and doesn’t offend anybody.
Sometimes we have neglected the trust between the “sign” and the “driver,” and life has overgrown between us.
Nearly always, someone has recognized the problem, but decided that it’s not their job to fix it.
Communication isn’t just about the message. It’s also the clarity between sender and receiver.
(Photo credit: choralbari – taken while standing in the middle of a street)
Write your epitaph. That was the assignment.
I was attending a nifty goal-setting seminar, sponsored by a local business. The two presenters were carrying us through a series of exercises to help us clarify our highest priorities, so that we could prioritize our time consistently with our deepest passions. Think of it as a LifeVesting seminar where Jesus was welcome, but not necessarily the host or guest of honor.
Anyway, the presenter asked us to reply to the following:
“(Your name) was known for…”
But this was no press release or publicity sheet. I had to assume the ultimate. [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…]
It’s time to clear the air. To let the cat out of the proverbial bag. I’ve carried the secret, along with a select few other people, for long enough. Integrity demands that somebody, after 30-plus years, say something. I guess it’ll have to be me.
Okay, deep breath, here goes:
There is no Earl Trimbley.
Okay, exhale. I’ll pause here to let that sink in… I know it’s a shock. Now here, the late Paul Harvey fans (not his real name, either), is “the rest of the story.” [click to continue…]
It was, without a doubt, one of the lowest periods in my life. I was broke and jobless, living in the wake of my own failures. My whole world had turned upside down. I was torn between two directions – to stay in that part of the world that I had always considered home, or to venture out to a place I had only seen on trips to my in-laws’ house.
My wife wanted to be near her parents during that season. I wanted to live in Anywhere Else, USA. “If the world was flat,” I said, “Lubbock would be on the edge of it!”
But my world was flat. [click to continue…]
Rag. Now there’s an every-day word.
Unsophisticated, earthy, almost guttural – rags are blue-collar, made-for-dirt, hidden-from-company kind of stuff.
We all have them, but some people go to considerable lengths to deny it.
“It’s not a wash rag, dear. It’s a wash cloth.”
“Oh. Yew not from around heah, are ya’?”
That t-shirt or those shorts you’re wearing? Rags in the making.
I grew up with wash rags, shop rags, shoeshine rags, snot rags (my dad’s term), and dust rags. “Dust cloths” were the property of Yankees and people from other parts of town. [click to continue…]
“Something’s wrong with your work.” The conversation eventually landed there.
A member of the denomination’s hierarchy delivered the critical review to a faithful old pastor during a prescribed periodic evaluation.
“Only one convert has been added to your church this year, and he is only a boy,” the boss said.
Later that same day, the pastor languished alone in his study, praying with a heavy heart, when someone walked up behind him. [click to continue…]
