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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…]
Joey’s feeling pretty small today. That’s what happens when you’re supposed to have the right words to say and there are no right words for a family in needless grief and pain. So Joey just hangs there, offering the ministry of presence. Hoping to offer some kind of life or lift that will help. But who will lift the lifter, and remind Joey what it’s like to stand tall and strong again?
Joey needs a carrier.
Alicia would never admit this, but she’s a living example of a Proverbs 31 woman. Greatly admired, if not revered, she never seems to sleep, and lives pedal-to-metal most of the time. She gets more work done by lunchtime than girls half her age and boys of any age do all day. But behind the success and flair, Alicia hides an ugly secret: She’s exhausted, and nearing the point of just not caring anymore. And though she has a hard time admitting she can’t do it all, she, too, needs a carrier.
Joey and Alicia are real-life examples of somebody who’s near you, or who is you, right now…
- Tired, but no end or help in sight…
- Overwhelmed, but no clarity about what to hold onto and what to let go of…
- Weepy at times for no apparent reason, or for any little cause…
- Feeling abandoned or opposed against the tide of opinions, accusations, or criticism…
- Disappointed by those once trusted, confused in the very areas that once produced confidence …
- Surrounded by pain, yet seemingly helpless to do anything about it…
All these and more are the unmistakable signs of someone – maybe you – who is calling for a carrier, whether they know it or not. [click to continue…]
“I feel like a man with three dollars in my pocket. Maybe a quart in my tank. And what astounds me is how quickly I think about spending what little I have. I get a little bit back in my soul and I start thinking about advancing the Kingdom. People that need my help. I get a little bit of God back in my tank and I start thinking about who I need to pray for. Lord have mercy” (John Eldridge)
+++++++
Hi, I’m Andy, and I’m a fumaholic.
(All: “Hi Andy!”)
I’m really glad to be here tonight to share my experience, strength and hope with you. The First Step says that “we admitted we were powerless over our fumaholism, and that our lives had become unmanageable.” So tonight I thought I would share how my life got to that place.
I’d like to start with a couple of confessions… that is okay in a place like this, isn’t it?
(Room erupts with raucous laughter) [click to continue…]
“I swear, I keep thinking, if somehow I press through, I can get where I want to go. If, of course, it doesn’t kill me or I don’t kill myself in the process.” (from my journal, July 18, 2005)
+++++++
“This is warfare,” Robin said.
“It’s God!” I snapped back, dispirited and resigned. “Let’s just go home.”
Well, there you have it. Now you know what we fight about at my house.
It was the day from hell. It started with a hard funeral – a suicide victim – at which I was to speak. My message to the grieving family and friends was to “be still – cease striving – and know that he is God.” It was on a Monday, following a very harried and stressful Sunday, in the middle of a very harried and stressful summer.
But this was the Monday when the scenery was supposed to change. With the help of my office staff, we had scheduled a trip to the mountains to write.
As in, the LifeVesting book.
Here’s a little proverbial advice, for what it’s worth: Beware of trying to change your scenery on Monday. [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 went to the Fred Flintstone School of Golf. Simple philosophy: when in doubt, hit the ball really hard. When not in doubt, hit the ball really hard.
Maybe you’ve heard that old saying about golf – “You drive for show, and putt for dough.” Suffice it to say, I’ve never made any money hitting a ball in a hole with a stick. I have, however, put on a show or two by hitting a ball off a stick.
All of that is fine and fun, so long as you’re dealing with woods and wedges. Life, however, is a different story. A mere proverb in the Gentleman’s Game is brutal reality in the real world:
It’s not how you drive, but how you arrive.
Not how you start, but how you finish. Magilla Gorilla and Fred Flintstone need not apply.
Life is filled with real and proverbial stories of people who started well, but finished poorly. Rather than leaving a heritage, with inspiring and ennobling footsteps to follow, their names and stories are relegated to footnotes and questions that begin with, “Whatever happened to…”?
It’s up to you. Will you be a driver, or an arriver? I must warn you, if you decide to go the distance, the deck is stacked against you. This is a marathon, not a dash, and you’re surrounded by gloriously mediocre runners and a grandstand full of fat critics. But you do have a Coach – the Lord Jesus, Author and Finisher of your faith. Under His direction, you’ll learn to identify these six fool makers and finish breakers: [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on November 19, 2008
in 100 Words
Here is a place where stress is absent.
Where the phone never rings, and babies never cry.
Here is a place where neatness, order, and predictability reign.
A safe place, where seldom is heard a discouraging word.
Here is a place where the “ground is level.”
Where there is no prejudice or pride.
Here is a place that remains unimpacted by the news or political scene.
Where nobody cares if you’re liberal, conservative, or anarchist.
Here is a place where there is no life.
Anywhere else, it can get pretty messy.
But God – and life – are often in the mess.
We pass a word around our office that my associate once used to describe me, and it stuck: Crispy.
He used it a few years ago when he and our office manager decided they’d seen enough of me in the state I was in and informed me that I was taking my wife on an R & R trip to the mountains. My reservations had been made, and they weren’t taking “no” for an answer.
I hope to God you have somebody who looks out for you like that. I wasn’t aware of how emotionally and physically fried I was. The sad truth about stress, crispiness, and burnout is that often others see their effects on us before we do.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve been crispy, and it probably won’t be the last. But there’s a further step that can be devastating. Burnout, in a clinical sense, means you have completely exhausted every form of energy necessary to continue. More than just losing interest (“I’m sort of burned out on jazz these days”), I’m talking about those times people go to their wells and find them completely dry. Times when people shock those who know them best by walking away from relationships, careers, or wisdom.
“Stress makes people stupid,” a management consultant once told Daniel Goldman. Burnout reveals it to the world.
So how do people get in such a state – past stress, past crispy, all the way to emotionally nuked? Let me suggest three quick and easy recipes for complete emotional, mental, or spiritual exhaustion: [click to continue…]
What do you do when you’ve done what you know to do, and what you know to do isn’t working this time? How do you explain the fact that time-tested methods for producing results, solving problems, and getting ahead just aren’t working this time? How do you plug the leaks in your economic life?
Questions like these are front and center among politicians, economists, investors, and families these days.
The problem isn’t a shortage of solutions. The problem is that that the solutions we know are supposed to work aren’t working.
We’re like a wad of sailors on a stormy sea, who keep running to opposite sides of a ship to steady it in the waves – while all the while, the hull is leaking. I’ve seen it at kitchen tables; I’ve seen it at capital buildings. Everything we do to steady the ship just draws in more water, and sailing has turned to bailing.
I wonder if anybody is asking – really asking – God.
(Aw, what does HE know?)
Plenty, it would appear. This isn’t the first time politicians and businesspeople confronted a leaky economy. [click to continue…]
(A Turning Point Story)
“Boys, if you want a watermelon, all you have to do is come knock on my door and ask. I’ll give you all the watermelons you want. But please, don’t steal my watermelons.”
You know where this is going, right?
I couldn’t help but laugh. A lot. I was on the bus with a group of men from our church coming back from a meeting, and we were discussing one of my favorite subjects: watermelon.
I suppose as long as there have been watermelon farmers, there have been watermelon thieves, and Lloyd was describing how he and his friends had done it in their younger years in Indiana. They smiled and said “yes sir” to the farmer’s request.
Later that night, they went to work.
Lloyd and his friends weren’t content just to sneak into the patch and dash away with a big, fat prize. They added insult to injury! Under the cover of darkness, they would take long, sharp knives and carefully cut a plug out of the end of the melon attached to the vine. Then they would eat the heart – the sweetest part – out of the melon and replace the plug.
The next day they’d return to the scene of the crime, climb a tree near the patch, and watch as the farmer came to check his melons. He would carefully thump the watermelon and listen for just the right sound that told him the fruit was ready. The climax came when the farmer picked up a hollow melon and discovered the plug. He would throw his cap on the ground, shake his fist in the air, and vow to kill whoever did it. Not only had he been robbed, he had been deceived as well.
Oh, we laughed.
The image of sitting in a tree trying to hold in the hilarity while someone below is losing it was very amusing. But what was funny to me one day soon became very sobering. God has a way of doing that.
[click to continue…]
Here comes Ed.
