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For Sale: Parachute. Only used once, never opened, small stain.
You and I were created in a stainless image. Our first parents appeared on the outside as what they were on the inside – innocent in the likeness of their Creator.
Then came the Stain.
Soiled and discolored, we instinctively knew something was wrong. We tried soaking it out and scrubbing it out. But the Stain never went away. Like silver is discolored simply by exposure to the air, we were forever tarnished by the choices we made, and those made upon us:
Passion stains. Anger stains. Gluttony stains. Pride stains. Fear stains. Rejection stains. Deception stains.
Pick a role, we’ve tried it out. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on June 26, 2009
in Spoofs
Our buddy Tim Hawkins is back with a new DVD, “I’m No Rockstar” – a 90-minute combination of stand-up, acoustic guitar comedy, and “rock star moments.” You can order it, along with his other awesome stuff, here. Meanwhile, here’s a hilarious tribute to the place where cows encourage you to “Eat Mor Chikin.”
“The time is coming and is already here when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth. The Father is looking for anyone who will worship him that way” (John 4:23)
For centuries Christians have broken fellowship and broken God’s heart in the name of worship. We have argued over form, anguished over the opinions of others, and attacked those who looked or acted differently. Meanwhile in Heaven, the search goes on…
When you can sit at the feet of Jesus and rivet your attention to him, even when life is incredibly distracting around you… [click to continue…]
Okay, you students of all things gloriously stupid! Time for another round of Hanukkah Hams. In case you’ve missed previous episodes, a Hanukkah Ham is a reminder of what can happen when unlicensed people are left free to drive an imagination without supervision.
What better place to discover colossal displays of “what-were-you-thinking” than in the hallowed halls of academia? I once had a college professor that said, “College is the only place where people don’t want to get their money’s worth.” See if these true stories, drawn from the actual testimonies of college professors, don’t restore your hope in the future of America.
Remember, friends – these people will be managing your nursing home. Or running your country. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on June 19, 2009
in Allocating Your Resources,Consumers,Enlarging Your Capacity,Five LV Laws,Insight,Life Currency,Love,LV Alter-egos,LV Cycle,LV Stories,Money,Principle of Increase,Principle of Legacy
Things got a little weird that day at the Taco Bell in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. A customer tried to pass two 1928 five-dollar bills as cash to pay for his meal. The clerks had never seen such old money before, presumed it to be counterfeit, and called the police. Here’s the sad part – as currency, the cash was legit. As collectors’ items, they had to be worth way more than a bean burrito combo or a chalupa.
What a waste, right? Right up there with Esau, selling his birthright for a bowl of peas. Or the prodigal son, wasting his inheritance on a never-ending party.
But another part of my brain wants to defend our fast food shopper. After all, maybe he was hungry, and that was the only cash he had. Maybe he had no idea what he had! I’ve learned that if you don’t know the value of what you possess, it really doesn’t matter to you what you waste it on. Esau and the prodigal learned that, too – the hard way.
Anyway, what’s so different about the taco king? [click to continue…]
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; (Isaiah 61:1, ESV)
There’s something you should know, though I’m not very proud to say it.
I’m an ex-con.
Ex-convict? No.
Ex-condemned? You betcha.
Ex-consequences? Uh huh.
Ex-con man? ‘Fraid so.
I lived on the wrong side of a legal system for a long time, and wound up in prison. But don’t go looking for my name in some Federal or state criminal records. I haven’t messed with Texas that much. [click to continue…]
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…]
If only I could love them enough…
To unfeel her pain
To unmake his choices
To unmedicate her sickness
To unreap his consequences
Surely there’s a way…
To fill a bottomless void
To fix brokenness-in-motion
To free him from self-made prisons
To find for her what keeps getting lost
To forgive for him what he can’t forgive himself
Short of that, I must…
Admit how powerless I am
Believe in a Redeemer more gracious and alive than I
Turn it over, turn it over, turn it over,
And (hardest of all)…
Leave it.
Leave it.
Leave it in His hands.
It’s the ultimate test, and I’ve blown it. Often. Thank God He’s let me live to go one more round or two, maybe to get it right next time.
In a world awash with the expectation of push-button success and results, what do you do when you’ve done everything you know to do, and you still haven’t seen what you expect – what you long for and expect to see? [click to continue…]
A couple of weeks ago I asked an associate to pick me up me a cup of coffee when he went out for an afternoon break. He did. Since I take cream and sugar in my coffee, I looked all over the church for some form of sugar to put in it, and couldn’t find any anywhere. Even though there were at least three people who could have helped solve the problem, I didn’t ask for help. I just poured out the coffee. It felt better to feel sorry for myself than it did to solve the problem.
Self-pity stinks.
I wish I could tell you that this was the first time I had ever felt sorry for myself, but I’m sure you’d know better. Truth is, at times I’m something of an artist at it. Given the right mood, the right circumstances, and just the right amount of self-absorption, I can not only feel sorry for myself, I can influence you to do something to “make” me feel that way.
Like the time in Mrs. Trimble’s class in fourth grade when I kept whining and crying, “Nobody likes me. Nobody!” [click to continue…]
