by Andy Wood on September 2, 2009
OK, so there’s this guy who’s asking his brother-in-law for a major favor. This isn’t like lending a wheelbarrow or babysitting the kids for a weekend. This order’s pretty tall. As in,
Could you leave your family?
Oh, and your country, too?
And help me babysit my family of three million?
Hey, what’s a family for?
And get this – all indications are that that the brother-in-law did it.
Curious yet? I sure would be, for several reasons: [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on October 13, 2008
(A spiritual leadership fable.)
Hi, I’m Josh. Pleased to meet you.
Hi, Josh. I’m Andy. So tell me about yourself.
I’m a poker.
A what?
A poker.
You mean, like a poker player?
No. I mean, like a poker in your fireplace.
You’re a poker?
Yep. Poker.
Okay, I’m steppin’ out a little here, Josh. What does a poker do?
Pokes.
(Should’ve seen that coming.) Okaaay. Pokes what?
I poke people.
Seriously?
Yep.
You just walk up to them and poke them with your finger?
Naw, not like that. That’s creepy.
Ya think?
I do for people what a poker does for your fireplace. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on September 8, 2008
A couple of weeks ago David Hayward, a pastor and gifted artist/cartoonist, posted this picture on his blog site, in a post titled “How I’m feeling about the church lately.”
(Used by permission)
I can relate. For more than 30 years, it has been my privilege, my headache, my joy, and my nightmare to work with broken people or broken churches. Prior to launching Turning Point Community Church in 2003, three of the four churches where I was senior pastor had experienced major divisions, open conflicts, forced termination of my predecessor, or some other kind of grief or pain. Some had lived with the crud for so long, they’d arrived at the conclusion that this was somehow supposed to be normal. “I’m sure it’s like this everywhere,” they’d intone. “Oh, no it isn’t!” I’d scream inside, all the while smiling on the outside.
The brokenness isn’t limited to the organization. David’s cartoon reminded me of something we used to proclaim loudly here. Underneath the doorway leading into our rented facility, our church used to hang a banner that represented a passion and sense of calling for us. Every Sunday, every worshipper at Turning Point walked under its message:
A Place to Begin Again.
I roughly estimated that for a long season, 80 percent of the people who arrived at Turning Point for the first time came here to heal. Some came from broken marriages; others from broken lives of addictions or economic messes. Many came bleeding from the most insidious wound of all – the church wound. [click to continue…]