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As long as people have searched for direction, worshipped their Creator, and looked for language to express their passion and warmth, we have returned again and again to stand by the fire.
The fire was an agent of God’s guidance and an ongoing expression of worship in the days of the tabernacle. And we kept returning to stand by the fire.
A refiner and cleansing agent of the hearts of men, the fire was a symbol of God’s hatred for sin and an affirmation for the prophets who spoke His truth. And again and again, we kept returning to stand by the fire.
The fire was a weapon of God’s voice, a light in the darkness, and an expression of hospitality and welcome. And from the dark places and lonely spaces, still we kept coming to stand by the fire.
The fire revealed a passion for God’s word in our bones, the baptism of the believer, the instrument of God’s testing, and the piercing gaze of the risen Christ. And out of desperation or terror, love or longing, still we kept coming to stand by the fire.
And even today the Spirit and Bride invite you to come. To be warmed and convicted and cleansed and restored and pure as you stand by the fire. [click to continue…]
When I’ve lost the fire of passion and power and feel reduced to ashes and embers, will You be the Fire that burns in my soul?
When you’ve lost the fire of passion and power and feel reduced to ashes and embers, I’ll be the Fire that burns in your soul. I still love you. And I’m still here.
When I’m standing alone in a crowded room and feel unnoticed… forgotten… alone… will You be the Truth that reminds me I’m not?
When you’re standing alone in a crowded room and feel unnoticed… forgotten… alone… I’ll be the Truth that reminds you you’re not. I still love you. And I’m still here. [click to continue…]
This is raw – straight from my journal and unedited, except for a few explanatory items in brackets. It was written on September 11, 2001. At the time I was traveling with Resource Services, Inc. as a church capital stewardship consultant.
This morning my phone woke me up in the Albany, NY hotel where I was staying. It was Robin, making sure I was all right. She said the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane in an act of terrorism. I turned on the TV and was transfixed by the images of what I saw. Two planes, one hitting each tower. Then the subsequent collapse of both buildings. Then the news that the Pentagon had suffered a similar fate from another airplane.
How do I begin to describe the horror, the fear, the fascination, and the numbness I felt? Then my cell phone began to ring. First, Amy Shillings from RSI. Then Connie Smith. Then Mother and Daddy. Then Robin again. Then Daddy again. All making sure I was OK.
I finally decided at about 11:00 to get out for a while. The beautiful, clear sky of September in upstate New York belied the scene of billowing smoke and debris that was taking place a couple of hours’ drive south of here.
I met a black man, Anthony, on the hotel elevator. He wanted to know if I was going toward the mall. “Come on,” I said. I’ll take you where you need to go.” Anthony was en route from one girlfriend to another. No kidding. Then later would catch the bus for a two-hour ride back home. To his fiance.
I dropped Anthony off at the mall, and, still in the parking lot, decided to check my voice mail. I heard the calls from [RSI CEO] Carl Hefton, [RSI President] Bill Wilson, and others – expressing care and support, encouraging us to do what we felt we needed to do, informing us that the travel office was prepared to assist in any way we needed. I felt loved. Cared for. For once, not alone. And there in the mall parking lot, I just cried like a baby. [click to continue…]
I have a friend who doesn’t do change well. I have another who aches for it. Strangely enough, they both find themselves routinely responding in the same ways.
Both are fiercely loyal, probably to a fault. They will cling to relationships, to institutions, even to ideas long past what most people would consider healthy or normal.
Both are very deliberate in the ways they go about making decisions – to the point that life sometimes barges in and makes the decision for them.
Both have dreams that seem to escape them while they wait for the circumstances to improve… which they never seem to do.
Interestingly enough, both are people of great faith. These are not casual Christians. They are heart-deep in a pursuit of God’s best for their lives.
They also have their differences. One pushes himself to grow, to stretch, to improve – only to find out the ladder he was climbing was leaning against a bombed out building. The other refuses to consider that if she keeps doing the same things, she’s likely to get the same results.
One will analyze a situation to death without ever taking action, then analyze what happened when the action took him. The other will react to situations on the basis of emotions, but typically they’re feelings of fear or regret.
Meanwhile, the winds of change just keep on howling. To one it feels like a blowing rain. To the other it feels like a mocking tormentor. [click to continue…]
This is awkward. But I want to tell you about an experience I had a long time ago, when I was young and stupid (as opposed to middle-aged and ill-advised).
I was in a season in my life when I had lost nearly everything. I don’t mean that poetically. I mean, everything.
Job… fired.
Career… lost.
Health… busted.
Friends… nearly all vacated.
Marriage… destroyed.
Kids… gone.
Integrity and credibility… a bad joke.
Finances… bankrupt.
Sanity… toast.
I was a shell of a man, crushed under the weight of stupid choices, addictive behavior, and shame. I would sit and, without realizing it, rock back and forth. (Braves fans, remember how Leo Mazzone, the former pitching coach would rock on the bench? Yeah, that was me and worse.)
On this particular day, I was sitting in a hospital day room when somebody stuck his head in the door. “Anybody here named Andy Wood?” he asked. [click to continue…]
On a county road in rural Alabama, in the heart of peanut country a long time ago, a unique, once-in-a-lifetime gathering of people took place. It was about this time of year. And I happened to be there.
It was a meeting of the Royal Priests of Balkum. And I had been asked to address them.
Let me hasten to say that there wasn’t much about those in attendance that day that looked particularly royal. Priestly either, for that matter. There were some farmers, a few teachers, lots of retirees, some pastors, some homemakers, a missionary or two.
The program actually said “Henry County Baptist Association.” The sign outside said, “Balkum Baptist Church.” And I had been asked to speak on an assigned subject: the priesthood of the believer.
They didn’t hear me groan. But groan I did. The “doctrinal sermon” they called it. And this year’s doctrinal theme had become a denominational hot potato.
But duty called, and the Baptists of Henry County awaited.
And so did the Lord.
He was waiting on me to learn a priceless lesson. [click to continue…]
Our granddaughter, Laura Kate, with Elmo’s help, is learning about holes. The square hole, the round hole. The star-shaped hole, the rectangle hole. She’s learning to put the square piece in the square hole, and Elmo tells her how awesome she is.
At 20 months, that’s pretty good. Before long, she will graduate from Elmo and his octogons and stars. And she will discover new holes to fill. Deeper holes. One downright abyss. And many more complex shapes.
Who Said That?
There’s this quote that’s been ascribed to all kinds of people over the years. I’ve heard that Billy Graham said it. Then Augustine. Or maybe C. S. Lewis. But most popularly, Blaise Pascal. The quote reads, [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…]
Tense Truth: God promises a life of genuine security for His children. But those who seek security by hiding behind what is “safe” have no security at all. Security only comes as a result of bold obedience and courageous faith.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Want to experience real security? Live dangerously. Seriously.
No, I don’t mean being a reckless gambler. But I do mean living with purposeful boldness and courageous faith.
Who was the guy who talked about the Lord being his shepherd, or who said with such confidence,
“The Lord is my light and my salvation—so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble?” (Psalm 27:1)?
It was David, the giant killer. A simple look at his life, especially the younger years, reveals a life constantly protected, and amazingly powerful. A closer look also reveals that he seemed to skip from one dangerous situation to the next. He didn’t always go looking for trouble, but he never backed down from it, either.
Contrast that with somebody who so focuses on risk avoidance that they never really live. Like the guy (true story) who left California to avoid earthquakes and settled in Ohio – where his house was promptly leveled by a tornado. Or the wealthy Australian who foresaw global trouble brewing in the 1930s and decided to move to a safe place. So he settled on a tiny island called Guadalcanal!
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As long as people have searched for direction, worshipped their Creator, and looked for language to express their passion and warmth, we have returned again and again to stand by the fire.
