“Sure I may be tuckered, and I may give out, but I won’t give IN!” (Molly Brown, from “The Unsinkable Molly Brown”)
We spend a lot of time thinking about sinking.
In the mental and spiritual circles I travel in, we focus a lot on discouragement, sadness, grief and such. The most-read article I have written this year is titled, “The Sinking Soul.”
And for good reason. We live in a broken world. Jesus came to heal the brokenhearted. A significant part of the New Testament was written to people who face severe, mind-numbing hostility and pain. And left to our own devices, the devil has sinking souls for breakfast.
But maybe it’s time for a different look. [click to continue…]
What turned my head was the sign for Aunt Beaut’s pan-fried chicken.
Why is it when God wants to get my attention, the easiest way to do it involves chicken? My belt really is a leather fence around a chicken graveyard.
Anyway, last week we were in downtown Charlotte on vacation. And there on the corner of West Trade and Tryon Street was the King’s Kitchen. Open for lunch or dinner, the restaurant trumpets “New Local Southern Cuisine.”
They had me at “Southern.”
True, I can get fried chicken anywhere. But when was the last time you went into a restaurant that had collard greens, cream corn, and butter beans all on the menu for lunch?
So I staked the place out, and the next day my wife and I walked the block from our hotel to sample the King’s Kitchen for lunch.
I immediately knew something was different about this place when I read the quotation on the wall just inside the door [click to continue…]
News flash! As a culture, we don’t wait well.
That’s why, in the previous post, I mentioned that it’s easy to get into trouble when we’re in those waiting seasons. (In theory, of course… not that I have ever actually gotten so impatient that somebody in a uniform decided it was time to have a little chat… but I’m sure you know somebody like that.)
One of the problems we have with waiting is that we don’t know how. We think of waiting as the kind of thing you do in a bureaucrat’s line or a doctor’s office (now you know why they call them “patients”).
In the Bible, James offers a different idea. And when I read this during a particularly hard waiting season, it really got my attention:
“The farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it, until it gets the early and late rains. You too be patient; strengthen your hearts…” (James 5:7-8).
I happen to live in the middle of the largest contiguous cotton-growing region in the world. My neighbors know a thing or two about waiting on a harvest. Their livelihood depends on it. And believe me, you won’t find a busier bunch. [click to continue…]
(The Law of the Nail, Part 2)
In the previous post I introduced you to The Law of the Nail. A corollary to the Law of the Hammer (“If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail”), the Law of the Nail says,
If you are a nail, and especially if you’ve been pounded a time or two, everything (and everybody) looks like a hammer.
That’s even true when you’re a light bulb, not a hammer. Just watch the video:
Everybody gets banged up by people or by life sooner or later. But sometimes we are faced with situations in which we must work with, lead, or love people who, in nail terminology, are really bent up.
Because you are on the same planet, much less in the same building or room, they don’t trust you. Doesn’t matter whether you have earned their mistrust or not. They perceive, speak, and reason through their woundedness. And as far as they’re concerned, you’re just another hammer, waiting for your chance to pound away at them.
So what do you do with these people? Make their fears come true? Write them off? Get offended? Ignore them?
I’d like to suggest that you have an opportunity to both get the job done (whatever “the job” is) and be an instrument of healing. Here are some ideas: [click to continue…]
I hated Ann Finch.
Three times she sent me to the principal’s office, and two of those times I emerged with a butt-on-fire.
One time she made me stay after school in an Ann-imposed detention. I lied to my mother and told her I needed to stay late because of band. When she picked me up, who should be walking out of the building but Miss Finch? She tattled on me, and then it was double trouble.
Once I ended the grading period with an 89.4 average. She gave me a “B” for the quarter. One lousy stinking tenth of a point! Too bad. She wouldn’t budge.
I liked Ann Finch.
Probably for the wrong reasons, but I liked her nonetheless. She was so easy to pick on. [click to continue…]
I want to take you to a place where, frankly, we aren’t invited. For just a minute, let’s be one of “those” people we often gripe about – those rubberneckers on the highway, who seem fascinated with somebody else’s messes.
In this case, we’re creeping up to a closed bedroom door, where on the other side, we can hear muffled sobs.
A man’s sobs.
A few days ago, somebody from home had rocked his world. The news was bad, and every ounce of optimism he once had was crushed.
You should have been here yesterday. He was really blubbering then. And he will be again tomorrow. Fasting, too. And praying. Lots of praying.
But as he cries and prays and cries and fasts and cries some more, something happens. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on October 28, 2009
in Ability,Consumers,Exploring the Possibilities,Five LV Laws,Hoarders,LV Alter-egos,LV Cycle,Life Currency,Pleasers,Principle of Abundance
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks for the pleasures God has designed for me to enjoy,
But no longer will I allow my life to be driven by the pursuit of pleasure.
I will no longer sacrifice joy on the altar of happiness.
I will never again measure my success by my ability to escape pain.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks for the material blessings God entrusts to me,
But no longer will I associate money with happiness.
Never again will I believe the lie that gain is godliness,
Or that my worth is measured by what I own.
From this day forward, I will use things and love people,
Not the other way around.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks to God for the ways
I can be a blessing to others.
I will accept with humility
The words of gratitude and honor I receive from others.
But I will never again live to please other men.
Today I choose to get off the pedestal,
Knowing that I don=t have to live in the gutter to do so.
I will find my honor in being no more than a man,
But no less than a child of God.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
And instead, I reach for the stars.
I will spend my life in pursuit of my God-given destiny.
By His grace I will fulfill the purpose for which
I was created and redeemed by Christ.
By His love I will touch the lives of those He died for.
And by His power
I will span the breech between time and eternity.
From this day forward,
I will seek dreams as big as the heart of my God
And visions as great as the need of this world.
And though through human failure
I may never see all those dreams come true,
When I stand to face my Lord and my God,
I pray He will see a heart determined to do exploits for His glory.
Vision hurts.
Don’t believe me? Try dreaming about something that is exciting and important to you, only to be disappointed. But the alternative to vision isn’t much better. Instead of dreaming, you could play it safe. Be complacent. Wish for nothing and hit it every time.
Doesn’t sound like much of a choice, does it? Heartache or boredom. Tightrope with no net or treadmill with no hope. How do you make peace with your dreams? How do you keep from hating the whole process? How can you avoid “optiphobia” – the fear of vision?
Start with a little perspective. [click to continue…]
There are two places from which to dream – a place of frustration, or a place of contentment. Each has its own perspective and advantages.
Dreaming from a place of frustration is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever change. Dreaming from a place of contentment is necessary, because without it, nothing would ever remain rooted where it should be.
Dreaming from a place of frustration arms us with hope. Dreaming from a place of contentment coils us in faith.
Dreaming from a place of frustration helps define our boundaries. Dreaming from a place of contentment helps raise our standards.
Dreaming from a place of frustration makes us desperate enough to act. Dreaming from a place of contentment makes us patient enough to wait.
Dreaming from a place of frustration leverages anger into something positive. Dreaming from a place of contentment leverages gratitude into something active.
Each complements the other, and both are necessary.
If you only dream out of frustration, then almost any change will do. Dreams then lead to impulsiveness.
If you dream only out of contentment, then almost any change is suspect. Dreams then lead to complacency.
Stand in different places when you dream. Your health and balance demand it. But dream nonetheless, no matter where you stand. Don’t let your circumstances frame your dreams. Insist that your dreams frame your circumstances.
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will not content myself with yesterday’s progress.
I have seen my share of victories; I’ve won some battles, and maybe even a war or two.
But there are new victories to be won, and yesterday’s dreams will never achieve them.
When my greatest challenges are boredom and fatigue, I will rest in the womb of a new vision, and call forth even greater measures of faith and courage.
It’s time to dream again.
And in doing so, I will see beyond the road blocks and crashes. [click to continue…]
We spend a lot of time thinking about sinking. 
