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Jackie Mays was a legend. Maybe not everywhere, but certainly in some of the circles we roamed in when our kids were small. And to a couple of four-year-old twin girls, Mrs. Mays was larger than life.
Sending your kids off to school for the first time is a big adjustment. Especially when they’re your oldest, and they’re the ripe old age of four. Enter Mrs. Mays. Not only was she a faithful member of our church in Birmingham, she was one of the K-4 teachers at Grace Christian School. And a legendary gift she was, to both parents and their little darlings.
“Daddy, Mrs. Mays says…”
“Daddy, that’s not how Mrs. Mays…”
In Mrs. Mays’ class they learned the basics of reading and writing and that other “r.” They learned the pledges and the Star-Spangled Banner. (Cassie used to come home with that wistful, “I just love America.”) They learned to love God’s word, and learned the gospel and about heaven and hell and the price Jesus paid to snatch us from the one to take us to the other. And they had fun learning it all.
There were no assistants, aides, or volunteers. Just one amazing woman and a room full of four-year-olds, who most days sat mesmerized or did what was expected.
I want to tell you one of her not-so-secret secrets. [click to continue…]
Perdido Key, Florida. I was in a hotel room, desperately reading my Bible, even more desperately crying out to God. Somewhere along the way I had, well, lost my way. And I couldn’t find my way back.
Back to a consistently focused walk with God.
Back to a first-love commitment to Jesus.
Back to a sense of spiritual usefulness and power.
Back to a faith that could at least move me, even when it couldn’t move mountains.
Back to the hope that somehow tomorrow could actually be better than today.
I could have told you how to find your way back to wherever you left your path. But I was lost as last year’s Easter egg when it came to me.
I heard all the things I already knew in my head. Didn’t help.
I heard all the platitudes and steps and methods I’d told others and they had told me. Ditto.
I heard all the sermons I had preached to others about coming back to Jesus, and they were profoundly useless to me.
And what I was reading in the Bible wasn’t helping much, either. I kept reading passages in psalms where David would pray things like, “Vindicate me, O God, because I have walked in my integrity.”
I didn’t have any integrity. And the last thing I needed to see in that situation was vindication. Justice either.
In desperation I silently cried out, “God! Is there a verse in there for the rest of us?”
And He showed me something that changed my life. [click to continue…]
I.
If you ever wanted to write a forever kind of song
That angels or children or the big choirs sing…
If you’ve ever wanted to rhyme with the heart
Of the One who bends the rainbow
And deserves even more than your finest praise…
Then make your music with a life of passion.
Spell it out with clearly with actions of love.
Dance in the reign of King of the ages.
Promise your steadfast, immovable service,
Then hold in His beautiful power your faithfulness.
Show the whole world His symphony in you.
II.
If you ever wanted to write a together kind of song
Of friends or family or heroes or darlings…
If you’ve ever wanted to love someone else in the music,
Yet knew that your most heartfelt expressions
Were still so short of all they deserve from you… [click to continue…]
Here comes Ed.
Here comes bad news.
Have you ever had anybody like that in your life? They love you. They’re for you. But no news is good news. And if you ever see them coming, something’s wrong. Somebody’s complaining. Somebody’s offended. Somebody’s angry. And they’re coming by to help.
Ed was that kind of guy. I once told him, “Ed, just once when you come by, let me know I’m doing something right.”
Never happened.
That said, Ed taught me a couple of very valuable lessons, one of which I repeat regularly to this day. It’s the lesson about the stinger. [click to continue…]
Live in 30 seconds.
Go Camera One.
Camera one.
Go Camera Two.
Camera two.
Cue Intro.
And five… four… three… two…
From around the world, across the nation, and up your street, we welcome you to another edition of…
(bup bup budup bup baaaaaah!)
Hanukkah Hams!
It’s been a while since our last edition, so for the uninitiated, let me catch you up. A Hanukkah Ham is sort of like Candid Camera without the “candid” or the camera. It’s a glorious celebration of people who later asked “What was I thinking?” Hanukkah Hams are named after the Greenwich Village market who did this clever ad display. And in the past we have explored drains on the brain such as airline travel, higher education, electricity, hunting laws, and Christmas.
Today we go live and on the air to the world of news, weather and sports broadcasting, where, as you probably know, anything can happen.
Live.
Like this: [click to continue…]
Remember when you wanted that whatever-it-was from Santa Claus? Or your employer? Or your spouse or parents or educators or whoever… only to get it and be disappointed?
Remember when you thought, “If I could just make this amount of money, I would be content?” And you did… and you weren’t?
Remember the time you dreamed and dreamed and dreamed some more about a meaningful goal and were disappointed? But it didn’t keep you from dreaming some more?
Remember when you didn’t have your health or didn’t have any money or didn’t have anybody and it was all you could think about? Then when health or wealth or somebody showed up, it only served to point out something else you don’t have – and now all you think about is that?
All these and more are examples of something that stirs us, motivates us, alarms us or moves us in a certain direction, but never quite allows us to rest once we get where we think we’re going.
I’m talking about your Driving Force, and yes, you have one. Maybe more than one. [click to continue…]
“Joel Andrew Wood! I call you to walk with me in Integrity, Responsibility, and Accountability, and to join me in this community of men!”
There, through a line of tiki torches and a longer gauntlet of whooping, encouraging, cheering men walked my son. For fourteen years I had been his hero. Tonight he would be mine.
As he reached the end of the double line where I was standing, I placed a special necklace around his neck that he has to this day. Then I turned him to face those men and said some of the most powerful words I have ever spoken: “Gentlemen, this is Joel Andrew Wood, my son, in whom I am well pleased.”
I have always lived with the honor of walking in my own father’s unconditional favor – even when he didn’t always approve of my choices. On this night 11 years ago, I had the greater honor of publicly declaring that same kind of blessing over my son.
A Fatherless, Manless Culture
Ours may be the only culture that has no formal point where a boy becomes a man. [click to continue…]
There’s this song I want to tell you about. I’ll get to that in a minute. First I want to tell you why I want to tell you. Or why you pass the word, purchase that ticket, read another book with that theme, or are drawn to a certain genre of storyline or TV show.
It’s all about the descants of the soul.
I don’t remember when I first noticed it or when I first mentioned it to somebody else, but it’s been a while. I began to notice that there were certain movies I found myself drawn to. No matter whether it was comedy, science fiction, intense drama or cheesy love stories, I found I was a sucker for stories where one person could make a profound difference.
It was my first discovery of the descants of the soul.
“Descant” is a musical term that in its most literal form means “a different song.” More precisely, a descant is an independent, ornamental melody sung or played above the main theme in a piece of music.
In life, it’s the story behind the story. The “song” that leaps from movies to music to conversations to dreams and has a way of knitting them all together.
A descant of the soul is an inner “melody” that sings to you – and through you to others. I have found that it’s also one of the ways that the Lord can uniquely speak to you or get your attention more quickly.
Descants of the soul are recurring themes that move us, fascinate us, and sometimes call us to action or faith or risk or change. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on April 27, 2011
in Consumers,Enlarging Your Capacity,Five LV Laws,Life Currency,Love,LV Alter-egos,LV Cycle,Pleasers,Principle of Increase,Words
Frankford and 82nd. Sitting at the light. Laura Kate (age almost-3) and I have been on an adventure. And she is about to ask me a very important question. But first, a slight rewind…
“Laura Kate, first we’ll go to the grocery store. Then we’ll go by Grammy’s office and pick up some prizes she has for you.”
“That’s an awesome plan,” she says.
In between, she learns six (count ‘em) verses of an Easter song her uncle Joel and I wrote when he wasn’t much older than she is now. Which brings us to the traffic light near our house on the way home.
“Papa,” says the voice in the back seat. “Are you growed up?”
“What did you say?” I reply. “Am I growed up?”
“Yes,” she says, very seriously.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I’m growed up.”
“Yay, Papa! You did it!”
Sometimes I wonder.
I wish it was that easy to claim maturity. Sometimes I think I’m still a kid when it comes to such things. And sometimes I feel, well, old. But there’s a difference between growing up and growing old. Peter Pan and his Lost Boys were only half right.
It’s OK to be a baby when you’re still a baby. But there comes a time when the word of God and the world of people come together to shout, “Grow up!” After addressing the Corinthians as a pack of carnal children, Paul writes to the Ephesians that “we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the head, even Christ” (Ephesians 4:15).
How do you measure your maturity? How do you know when you’re growing and when you’re floundering? Let me hasten to say that maturity isn’t found in big words or fat bank accounts, or your ability to make babies or get a job (although keeping a job may impress a few people).
In gauging your maturity level, I have found five things that act as measuring rods for progress. You are as mature as: [click to continue…]
‘Tis the season. . . to roll your eyes whenever somebody starts something with “’Tis the season!”
Anyway…
This is the season to give, give give! Toys for Tots, help for the homeless, marches for missions, and then, of course, those never-ending shopping lists.
With all the emphasis on giving, how about a nice change of pace? You’ve heard that God loves a cheerful giver. Well, guess what givers like? Cheerful receivers!
Did you know it’s possible to actually motivate someone to be thoughtful and generous, to feel good about themselves and you? It all comes when you learn the wonderful art of being a good receiver. Here are seven ways you can do that: [click to continue…]
Jackie Mays was a legend. Maybe not everywhere, but certainly in some of the circles we roamed in when our kids were small. And to a couple of four-year-old twin girls, Mrs. Mays was larger than life.
