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Took a look at the funnies the other day. To be honest, I read them for the laughter. But I noticed something else in the process. Call me sensitive, or call me curious, but I was intrigued at the ways dads are presented. If it’s true that art imitates life, we may have some big problems. With fathers. With God. With ourselves.
Who is Father? According to the comics, he is Dagwood, the family calamity. He lives to sleep, or to eat, or to deal with the occasional salesman. He’s loveable, but always a little bit late, and about one brick shy of a load.
Who is Father? [click to continue…]
Carved into the side of one of my favorite places in the world – Deer Bluff, near the family farm in Alabama…
That brings up a thought:
Ever seen something like this carved in a rock or a tree (or written on a bathroom wall or somebody’s notebook)?
J.S. + E.J. = Tru Luv 4 Ever.
Without bothering to even ask whether you ever wrote something like that, I wonder where J.S. and E.J. are now? I wonder how “tru” their “luv” is today? I wonder if “4 Ever” really meant 4 days, or 4 weeks?
Then again, who knows? J.S. and E.J. may be J.S. and E.S. today, with four kids, three pets, two cars, and a nice mortgage. Maybe there was more than just “4” in their “4 Ever.”
Forever. Yet another of those charming words we overuse and undervalue. Often said in the extremes of emotion, for many of us “forever” only means until we calm down or come up for air. And yet we do live in a world of certainties, where words like “forever” and “always” really mean something. Trouble is, because of the ways we so often water it down, sometimes we lose the force of forever when it’s the real thing. [click to continue…]
You up for a little side trip? This one rolls down Memory Lane in a church bus with papered-up windows, wide-eyed teenagers, and me in handcuffs in the back of a police car. This is the (true) story of what happens when non-planning randomizers like me actually take the time to plan something. This is the story of The Underground Project.
Once upon a time (hey, I said it was a story), I was a youth pastor in Lumberton, Mississippi. I was fairly new, and school had just let out for summer. For the folks at First Baptist Church, that meant one thing: Vacation Bible School. And I was expected to have something each night for the youth group. So I planned to do something unique and special each evening. Can’t remember which night it was for sure – I think it was Tuesday. But on the promotional information, I said very little. I just said come later – at 8:30 – for The Underground Project.
Use your imagination. Be an energetic teenager in a small, south Mississippi town in the early summer. You arrive at the church to see a painted sign attached to the chain link fence that says, Closed by Order of the State. (What’s funny about that is that the old church building actually had a bad flood/mold problem and had been ordered closed within a year or so.)
Ex-pec-tant and excited, you enter the fellowship hall, where you are asked to have a seat and wait for instructions. Then in groups of 6 or 7, you are invited into a room. There I explain that I have some important information for you. [click to continue…]
My sister and I used to make mud tea. We didn’t actually call it that, nor did we actually drink the swill, but when we were small, we’d play around outside with spare dishes. One of our concoctions invariably involved mixing a little dirt ‘n’ water to make a tasty drink. When we stirred and stirred our little elixir, the water would take on that irresistible shade of brown. When we stopped stirring, it stayed muddy. But when we gave it a rest and went off to other pursuits, the water would always be clearer when we returned. The mud would have settled to the bottom.
Your life is like that glass in our backyard. When stirred up, it gets muddy. It’s easy to become confused, distorted, foggy, fuzzy and dull. Under the pressure of circumstances, it’s harder to see issues clearly and make good, clear, meaningful decisions.
So… had any “muddy water days” lately? The phone won’t quit ringing, the baby won’t stop crying, everybody needs your help at the same time, you have major, life-changing decisions to make, you have a week’s worth of money to pay a month’s worth of bills, you spend the entire day running about 30 minutes behind, and then you turn on the radio and some clown is singing, “It’s a Beautiful Morning.”
You aren’t alone, you know. [click to continue…]
“I will recognize that this day is a gift to me. Today and every day I will take the time to encourage the encourager. I will recognize that my greatest gifts become available to others only when I offer them first to myself and to my God.” -from “The Encourager’s Creed“
“Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything.” -Psalm 46:10, The Message
+++++++++++++++++++
His innovative, radical ministry shook and shaped the town where he lived. He started a church from scratch and tossed tradition on its ear. He insisted that worship services be seeker sensitive – events that people would actually enjoy attending. His preaching was simple and plain, filled with word pictures, practical application, and charisma.
He led his people to reach out with God’s love by establishing an innovative system of literature distribution and visitation. In a matter of months his church went from mission to mega, with more than a thousand people attending his Thursday night Bible study.
He was a prayer warrior. This guy spent an hour a day just praying for the Jews! Another hour daily in general prayer and meditation. An hour and a half in breakfast and family prayers. Six hours in prayer and devotional reading on Sundays.
Oh, and then there was the revival. Returning from the Middle East, he found the town turned upside down with a fresh invasion of the Spirit. People came nightly to hear him preach the gospel. Hundreds came to Christ. Without question, he was one of the greatest Christian leaders any generation has ever witnessed.
He died in 1843.
Age – 29. [click to continue…]
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…]
(A Turning Point Story)
“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…]
by Andy Wood on September 9, 2009
in 100 Words
From a billboard in Ralls, Texas…
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.)
Communication. It’s a funny thing.
