You are dead. Don’t worry too much about it because I’m dead, too.
Jesus left the land of the living to show us how to join him there. That’s what Christmas celebrates: Jesus leaving the land of the living, coming to earth, and showing us the way (actually acting as the Way) to the land of the living. So, right now, you are actually dead.
Are you confused yet? I am, too. However, one recent morning I had a moment of clarity. I focus so much of my life on living fully, being alive, making the most of my days, and so on. This is good. However, what if life is about more than now? What if right now is just the appetizer?
I make life about me so often. Sure I sprinkle in some God and good deeds periodically, but really it’s about me. However, what if I’m really just this little infant soul that’s slowly waking up? Having trust in Jesus’ ability to cleanse me from my sins and bring me into relationship with God, I do believe I’m alive. But I still feel so dead.
What if this life is really just preparing me for the true awakening that will come at the end of this life? I always look at Jesus’ crucifixion with great sorrow, but ultimately it led to amazing joy – probably for Him as much as for mankind. He woke up again. He reunited with His Father and made a way for me and you to do the same.
If that’s all true, why am I sitting here on my butt letting my life waste away? Why don’t I get up and do something awesome? Why don’t I act like I’m this infant about to be born into an amazing world and right now I get the opportunity to knowingly prepare myself? I get to choose to hiccup to build my lungs and to push against the uterine wall to strengthen and prepare myself for the great adventure that will come.
Perhaps a tragedy and sacrifice we overlook in the Jesus story is Jesus essentially dying just to take on flesh and become a man. As I type with Christmas music in the background, I’m lost in a whole new wonder of who this God-Man actually was and the amazing thing He did so I could have relationship with Him.
Are you alive yet?
Friday, December 11, 2009
Christmas Confusion
I am confused by Christmas. Maybe not all of Christmas, but definitely by the glitz and glam of American-commercialized Christmas. I know there’s a group of us every year asking, “What, really, is Christmas about?” This year brings the same echoing question to my mind.
In years past, my wife and I have attempted to get past the commercialism of the traditional American Christmas. We’ve urged our families to make gifts for one another rather than purchasing. When that didn’t pan out in the long term, we’ve attempted to be more intentional about our Christmas gift purchases. We’ve bought gifts such as TOMS shoes or donated money to great organizations in honor of a specific family
member.
This year I’m wondering what the balance is in participating in Christmas celebration with my family while simultaneously honoring God and serving those for whom life is a daily struggle of survival and Christmas is a far away dream in another world.
Working at a group home (I’m a chaplain at a home for abused and neglected children) can be an easy out to my troubling thoughts. It’s easy to simply tell myself that since I work with abused and neglected children I’m doing my part and I should just live the rest of my life however I want since I do my duty of service in the daily of 9 to 5. Honestly, this is tempting. Why not just float through Christmas lavishing impressive gifts upon family and friends with a clean conscience? But something inside won’t let me.
So what do I do with my struggle? I think I’m facing the reality that my struggle is a good one. Sometimes I might make frivolous choices in Christmas celebration, but my Christmas struggle helps keep me honest. In my typical celebration with family and friends I will continue to seek making an impact by the ways I spend my holiday time. I will invest more deeply in significant relationships around me (both with the kids I work with and close friends and family). I will continue to be a voice through my spending habits by purchasing products that make a tangible difference - like slave-trade free products.
Part of my job where I work is to oversee volunteer activities for our organization. At Christmas time I see many people who show up at our group home with a gift they’re donating and want to give it directly to the kid it’s for. Initially this sounds noble. I just want to see the joy the kid receives from my gift. But really, this type of giving is all about the person bestowing the gift. They are seeking a feeling. They want to feel warm and fuzzy inside and “these poor, abused children” are simply their avenue to obtain their “Christmas feeling.” I’m attempting to not be that person.
Now please don’t hear me wrong, we need donations and appreciate every gift and dollar donated. Every donation makes an impact. However, I’d love to see to that spirit of giving last beyond December 25th. I encourage those donating to such causes to make a commitment to be involved in the long term – not just in the Christmas season.
Likewise, part of my attempt to reject apathy this Christmas is to look for long term ways that I can make an impact. I’m sick of living a life where I’m simply seeking a warm, fuzzy feeling in exchange for the dignity of a fellow brother or sister via the façade of charity.
So my answer to the actual proposed question comes down to this: relationships. My rejection of apathy this Christmas is to focus on deepening relationships; both with those whom I love and whom God has called me to serve. I hope this will make an impact that last longer than the Christmas leftovers.
In years past, my wife and I have attempted to get past the commercialism of the traditional American Christmas. We’ve urged our families to make gifts for one another rather than purchasing. When that didn’t pan out in the long term, we’ve attempted to be more intentional about our Christmas gift purchases. We’ve bought gifts such as TOMS shoes or donated money to great organizations in honor of a specific family
member.
This year I’m wondering what the balance is in participating in Christmas celebration with my family while simultaneously honoring God and serving those for whom life is a daily struggle of survival and Christmas is a far away dream in another world.
Working at a group home (I’m a chaplain at a home for abused and neglected children) can be an easy out to my troubling thoughts. It’s easy to simply tell myself that since I work with abused and neglected children I’m doing my part and I should just live the rest of my life however I want since I do my duty of service in the daily of 9 to 5. Honestly, this is tempting. Why not just float through Christmas lavishing impressive gifts upon family and friends with a clean conscience? But something inside won’t let me.
So what do I do with my struggle? I think I’m facing the reality that my struggle is a good one. Sometimes I might make frivolous choices in Christmas celebration, but my Christmas struggle helps keep me honest. In my typical celebration with family and friends I will continue to seek making an impact by the ways I spend my holiday time. I will invest more deeply in significant relationships around me (both with the kids I work with and close friends and family). I will continue to be a voice through my spending habits by purchasing products that make a tangible difference - like slave-trade free products.
Part of my job where I work is to oversee volunteer activities for our organization. At Christmas time I see many people who show up at our group home with a gift they’re donating and want to give it directly to the kid it’s for. Initially this sounds noble. I just want to see the joy the kid receives from my gift. But really, this type of giving is all about the person bestowing the gift. They are seeking a feeling. They want to feel warm and fuzzy inside and “these poor, abused children” are simply their avenue to obtain their “Christmas feeling.” I’m attempting to not be that person.
Now please don’t hear me wrong, we need donations and appreciate every gift and dollar donated. Every donation makes an impact. However, I’d love to see to that spirit of giving last beyond December 25th. I encourage those donating to such causes to make a commitment to be involved in the long term – not just in the Christmas season.
Likewise, part of my attempt to reject apathy this Christmas is to look for long term ways that I can make an impact. I’m sick of living a life where I’m simply seeking a warm, fuzzy feeling in exchange for the dignity of a fellow brother or sister via the façade of charity.
So my answer to the actual proposed question comes down to this: relationships. My rejection of apathy this Christmas is to focus on deepening relationships; both with those whom I love and whom God has called me to serve. I hope this will make an impact that last longer than the Christmas leftovers.
Monday, November 9, 2009
What Are You Going to Do With Your Life?
Here's a great article entitled What Are You Going to Do With Your Life?: http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/career-money/blog/18895-what-are-you-going-to-do-with-your-life.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Can I Have Some Candy?
As I looked up to see a kid quickly gliding toward me I heard his question in a very excited, almost frantic, voice: “John, can I have some candy?” At that moment I had a lot of value to this kid. He knew I had candy in my office to give or deny him. His pleading for some succulent sweetness caused me to consider how I approach God (who has the power to give or deny) with my desires through prayer.
There exist volumes and volumes on the idea of prayer. I’ve read one or two of them myself, but I’m no prayer expert by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I thought I had this article all figured out and was about to write it when a friend stopped by my office and unknowingly ruined my intentions with some good common sense and Biblical wisdom.
Prayer is basically talking with God. When I pray, sometimes it’s as if God is sitting right there next to me. Sometimes it’s as if he’s far away in another universe or like I’m talking to a brick wall. At those times I often feel very distracted and struggle through any sort of semblance of prayer. I found myself in that spot this morning. To keep focus I simply began repeating the word “hallowed,” thinking of the Lord’s Prayer; it was all I could do to keep God in mind while praying.
Even with my frequent prayer struggles God still seems to participate in conversation with me. Most of the time I can’t tell you exactly how, but I can tell you I’m learning and growing. I can tell you I gain encouragement and freedom and comfort in prayer. Even when I go through long periods of stagnant prayer, when I look in the rear view mirror, I see some sort of change in my life.
Sometimes my prayers primarily contain pleadings of God; just like that kid who came begging candy from me. I had been thinking that this type of prayer annoys God, because I honestly was annoyed with the kid, but without realizing what he was doing, this morning my friend recounted to me the Bible story of the godless judge and the widow who kept begging for justice. This widow basically wears the judge out by pleading her cause to him again and again. Finally, the judge can’t take it anymore and gives in to her pleading. Kind of like I did with the kid and the candy.
It turns out I was wrong. God does want us to continually come before him with requests.
I resented the kid a little bit for his approach. But God doesn’t resent us. He’s not mad at us. It’s silly to think he is. Remember, prayer is about the conversation and connection with God. At least we’re talking with him. God actually encourages us to have that approach; just like the widow with the judge.
Of course this isn’t to say that if you keeping asking God for a new car a shiny new Jaguar with your name on it is going to magically appear in the parking lot. But if you keep asking God for a new car, or whatever your request is, something probably will change within you. God will probably teach you and grow you and generally love you. And sometimes giving you that candy you’re asking for even brings you more deeply into relationship with him.
There exist volumes and volumes on the idea of prayer. I’ve read one or two of them myself, but I’m no prayer expert by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I thought I had this article all figured out and was about to write it when a friend stopped by my office and unknowingly ruined my intentions with some good common sense and Biblical wisdom.
Prayer is basically talking with God. When I pray, sometimes it’s as if God is sitting right there next to me. Sometimes it’s as if he’s far away in another universe or like I’m talking to a brick wall. At those times I often feel very distracted and struggle through any sort of semblance of prayer. I found myself in that spot this morning. To keep focus I simply began repeating the word “hallowed,” thinking of the Lord’s Prayer; it was all I could do to keep God in mind while praying.
Even with my frequent prayer struggles God still seems to participate in conversation with me. Most of the time I can’t tell you exactly how, but I can tell you I’m learning and growing. I can tell you I gain encouragement and freedom and comfort in prayer. Even when I go through long periods of stagnant prayer, when I look in the rear view mirror, I see some sort of change in my life.
Sometimes my prayers primarily contain pleadings of God; just like that kid who came begging candy from me. I had been thinking that this type of prayer annoys God, because I honestly was annoyed with the kid, but without realizing what he was doing, this morning my friend recounted to me the Bible story of the godless judge and the widow who kept begging for justice. This widow basically wears the judge out by pleading her cause to him again and again. Finally, the judge can’t take it anymore and gives in to her pleading. Kind of like I did with the kid and the candy.
It turns out I was wrong. God does want us to continually come before him with requests.
I resented the kid a little bit for his approach. But God doesn’t resent us. He’s not mad at us. It’s silly to think he is. Remember, prayer is about the conversation and connection with God. At least we’re talking with him. God actually encourages us to have that approach; just like the widow with the judge.
Of course this isn’t to say that if you keeping asking God for a new car a shiny new Jaguar with your name on it is going to magically appear in the parking lot. But if you keep asking God for a new car, or whatever your request is, something probably will change within you. God will probably teach you and grow you and generally love you. And sometimes giving you that candy you’re asking for even brings you more deeply into relationship with him.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Legal Orphans
I just learned a new term: legal orphans. This is an interesting one to me. A term that is right now rocking my world.
I work at a group home, which many Americans mistakingly call an orphanage. In America, we don't have orphanages. You could think of group homes as modern days orphanages of sorts...however, the kids there typically aren't orphans (their parents are still alive). Their parents, instead, abused and/or neglected them in some way. So they aren't orphans.
Then comes this term: legal orphans. I suppose legally the kids I work with are orphans. For all practical purposes their parents have abandoned them and are essentially dead to them.
This changes my views and gives me a new fire. This fire is about changing America as we know it. I just saw a statistic that said there are half a million foster kids in the U.S. What if we, as a society, led by churches sought to get these kids in permanent foster homes or adoptive homes? What if we moved so swiftly and forcefully on this that the government no longer had any need for group homes?! That would be a great problem to have!
Half a million is a lot kids. But all it takes is half a million willing, loving homes. One kid at a time. One family at a time.
Perhaps I'm just dreaming, but together, we really can make a difference one life at a time. Consider how you can contribute.
I work at a group home, which many Americans mistakingly call an orphanage. In America, we don't have orphanages. You could think of group homes as modern days orphanages of sorts...however, the kids there typically aren't orphans (their parents are still alive). Their parents, instead, abused and/or neglected them in some way. So they aren't orphans.
Then comes this term: legal orphans. I suppose legally the kids I work with are orphans. For all practical purposes their parents have abandoned them and are essentially dead to them.
This changes my views and gives me a new fire. This fire is about changing America as we know it. I just saw a statistic that said there are half a million foster kids in the U.S. What if we, as a society, led by churches sought to get these kids in permanent foster homes or adoptive homes? What if we moved so swiftly and forcefully on this that the government no longer had any need for group homes?! That would be a great problem to have!
Half a million is a lot kids. But all it takes is half a million willing, loving homes. One kid at a time. One family at a time.
Perhaps I'm just dreaming, but together, we really can make a difference one life at a time. Consider how you can contribute.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Is My Blog Dead?
I enjoy writing a lot. However, lately I've had writer's block. This is evidenced in the fact that for my newsletter I had to pretty much steal someone else's idea to write about. It's true.
So I find myself asking the question: is my blog dead? Without fresh ideas and insights, my writing cannot go on.
Thus, I will do a difficult thing for myself: ask for help.
If you have any thoughts as to how to unstick my mind from writer's block, post it to my blog comments. I can't wait to see all the amazing tips I get! =0)
So I find myself asking the question: is my blog dead? Without fresh ideas and insights, my writing cannot go on.
Thus, I will do a difficult thing for myself: ask for help.
If you have any thoughts as to how to unstick my mind from writer's block, post it to my blog comments. I can't wait to see all the amazing tips I get! =0)
Friday, July 17, 2009
A Bug In My Juice!
My wife and I have been trying to make healthier food choices. Part of this revolution in our life includes attempting to somewhat frequently use our new juicer. When I say juice, I’m not talking about some weak glass of sweetened, watered-down apple juice from Wal-Mart; I’m talking about some thick, potent, full of vitamins and nutrients juice straight from whole veggies and fruits.
The other day I decided since it had been a while since I had juiced, I better make some. It’s honestly a bit of a pain because you need to wash all the vegetables, chop off the major parts you don’t want to use (like stems), and then after the actual juicing is done comes the dreaded clean up. Yes, health does come with a cost, which for me is extra dishes. Nonetheless, on this day I decided to forge through with the process due to the wonderful benefits. In fact, I felt so much ambition that I decided to wash extra vegetables to use the following morning before church.
Juicing that day went great! And I had all my veggies and everything set up for the following morning so I could do a quick juicing before church without much effort. The following morning I awoke and began walking through my morning routine. By the time I was dressed and ready for the day, I was a little behind schedule to get to church on time. However, I decided to take a chance and, in the name of health, juice anyway.
I quickly put the freshly cleaned and dried juicer together and began tossing in my already cleaned vegetables. Today I would enjoy carrots, celery, and cilantro. After the whirring, grinding, and splattering I poured my fresh juice into my usual wine glass to enjoy. It’s important to drink the juice right away because the longer you wait more and more nutrients start to die.
When I picked up my glass to drink, I notice a small, thin thing on the edge of the glass; like a shiny sliver of an almond skin. I thought this a little strange, but figured it must have been from a carrot stem or something. I brushed it off onto the counter, raised my glass for cheers, and began sipping my glass of health wonder. As I neared the bottom of the glass I saw something interesting. What was sticking up in my juice? That doesn’t look normal. Are those two antennae?!
A bug!
Yes, you read that right. A bug was in my juice!
I spurt out what juice what left in my mouth like a geyser shooting into the sink. Who wants bug juice? I thought my health serum only consisted of carrots!
After I calmed myself and threw my bug in the trash, I cleaned up the juicer then rushed to church late. On my way I still felt the heebie jeebies of drinking juice with a big, fat bug in it.
Somehow my mind also began reflecting on life and how my juice mirrored it.
Sometimes in life we choose healthy things, like a glass of juice or confessing our sin or participating in community. However, even with our well intentioned efforts, like life, we are not perfect. We bring our own junk wherever we go, even into healthy things. Sometimes warnings exist; like the “carrot stem” on the edge of my glass that I later realized was a bug wing. Sometimes things just pop unexpectedly in the bottom of our glasses.
Nonetheless, those things don’t kill us or even necessarily hurt us. I had drank bug infiltrated juice and survived. I honestly have no idea how the bug arrived there. Had he been hiding in the juicer? Did he fly into my glass without my noticing? It really doesn’t matter; I survived. And more importantly, I learned.
I learned that perhaps I need to be more careful in what I’m doing, even if I’m behind schedule. I learned that I should look for warning signs in life. I learned that even if a healthy experience is tainted, it’s still healthy and contains some benefit and nutrition.
God is strange. Sometime I act like I can control him and get my way. I think sometimes he even allows me to carry on with such foolish thinking without correcting me for a while. After all, it’s my choice. Sometimes my choices bring me to realize that I’ve been living life with an unhealthy bug hiding in the bottom of a bunch of healthy stuff. As difficult as that is, it allows God to properly deal with my bugs as he reveals them. Cheers!
The other day I decided since it had been a while since I had juiced, I better make some. It’s honestly a bit of a pain because you need to wash all the vegetables, chop off the major parts you don’t want to use (like stems), and then after the actual juicing is done comes the dreaded clean up. Yes, health does come with a cost, which for me is extra dishes. Nonetheless, on this day I decided to forge through with the process due to the wonderful benefits. In fact, I felt so much ambition that I decided to wash extra vegetables to use the following morning before church.
Juicing that day went great! And I had all my veggies and everything set up for the following morning so I could do a quick juicing before church without much effort. The following morning I awoke and began walking through my morning routine. By the time I was dressed and ready for the day, I was a little behind schedule to get to church on time. However, I decided to take a chance and, in the name of health, juice anyway.
I quickly put the freshly cleaned and dried juicer together and began tossing in my already cleaned vegetables. Today I would enjoy carrots, celery, and cilantro. After the whirring, grinding, and splattering I poured my fresh juice into my usual wine glass to enjoy. It’s important to drink the juice right away because the longer you wait more and more nutrients start to die.
When I picked up my glass to drink, I notice a small, thin thing on the edge of the glass; like a shiny sliver of an almond skin. I thought this a little strange, but figured it must have been from a carrot stem or something. I brushed it off onto the counter, raised my glass for cheers, and began sipping my glass of health wonder. As I neared the bottom of the glass I saw something interesting. What was sticking up in my juice? That doesn’t look normal. Are those two antennae?!
A bug!
Yes, you read that right. A bug was in my juice!
I spurt out what juice what left in my mouth like a geyser shooting into the sink. Who wants bug juice? I thought my health serum only consisted of carrots!
After I calmed myself and threw my bug in the trash, I cleaned up the juicer then rushed to church late. On my way I still felt the heebie jeebies of drinking juice with a big, fat bug in it.
Somehow my mind also began reflecting on life and how my juice mirrored it.
Sometimes in life we choose healthy things, like a glass of juice or confessing our sin or participating in community. However, even with our well intentioned efforts, like life, we are not perfect. We bring our own junk wherever we go, even into healthy things. Sometimes warnings exist; like the “carrot stem” on the edge of my glass that I later realized was a bug wing. Sometimes things just pop unexpectedly in the bottom of our glasses.
Nonetheless, those things don’t kill us or even necessarily hurt us. I had drank bug infiltrated juice and survived. I honestly have no idea how the bug arrived there. Had he been hiding in the juicer? Did he fly into my glass without my noticing? It really doesn’t matter; I survived. And more importantly, I learned.
I learned that perhaps I need to be more careful in what I’m doing, even if I’m behind schedule. I learned that I should look for warning signs in life. I learned that even if a healthy experience is tainted, it’s still healthy and contains some benefit and nutrition.
God is strange. Sometime I act like I can control him and get my way. I think sometimes he even allows me to carry on with such foolish thinking without correcting me for a while. After all, it’s my choice. Sometimes my choices bring me to realize that I’ve been living life with an unhealthy bug hiding in the bottom of a bunch of healthy stuff. As difficult as that is, it allows God to properly deal with my bugs as he reveals them. Cheers!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Robert the Runner
I ran cross country when I was in high school. Our competitions were 5 kilometer (3.1 mile) races. Why people choose to race long distances I still don’t know, but it’s what I did. I wasn’t the quickest runner on our team, but I wasn’t bad. Today I had a memory of the person on our team who was the slowest: Robert. However, as I look back, I realize he had the biggest heart.
My first cross country coach was more of a motivational speaker than a running coach; he was a great guy! I remember him telling our team that there are no such things as fast runners and slow runners on our team; there are simply hamburgers and hot dogs, and we are all valuable. When I looked my teammate Robert I questioned the wisdom of this hamburger/hot dog statement.
Robert was one of those kids who everyone picked on. I often felt bad for him, but honestly sometimes I was the one making fun of him. He was overweight, annoying, less than attractive, and had some quirky habits. For some reason this less than seemingly healthy person decided to join the team where you race long distances. Who knows what he was thinking?!
Simply in joining the team Robert received ridicule. I often heard snide comments about him, both behind his back and to his face. Many were along of the lines of, “You’re going to move that overweight body for miles in some sort of running motion? Yeah right!”
To my amazement, Robert did what others said he couldn’t. As the season progressed, what started out as a sight of ridicule and degradation eventually turned in to an amazing testament of someone with a huge heart and will. Some kids unfortunately continued to pick on Robert. However, as much as I’m sure it hurt, he continued on.
I remember one competition where a female race started after the male race Robert competed in (probably about half an hour or more after). Some of the girls in the later race were finishing their run before Robert. But he didn’t give up. He didn’t stop. There were many races where the time keepers stopped the clock before Robert crossed the finish line thinking all runners would have undoubtedly finished. Though discouraged, Robert kept running. And finishing.
Just to be clear, Robert was in the “hamburger” category of our team. However, there aren’t any other teammates I’m remembering right now that I’m still learning from. Though Robert was not a fast runner, he possessed something much deeper within. I have no idea where Robert is now, but I have a feeling he’s still running the race with a drive most can only hope for.
My first cross country coach was more of a motivational speaker than a running coach; he was a great guy! I remember him telling our team that there are no such things as fast runners and slow runners on our team; there are simply hamburgers and hot dogs, and we are all valuable. When I looked my teammate Robert I questioned the wisdom of this hamburger/hot dog statement.
Robert was one of those kids who everyone picked on. I often felt bad for him, but honestly sometimes I was the one making fun of him. He was overweight, annoying, less than attractive, and had some quirky habits. For some reason this less than seemingly healthy person decided to join the team where you race long distances. Who knows what he was thinking?!
Simply in joining the team Robert received ridicule. I often heard snide comments about him, both behind his back and to his face. Many were along of the lines of, “You’re going to move that overweight body for miles in some sort of running motion? Yeah right!”
To my amazement, Robert did what others said he couldn’t. As the season progressed, what started out as a sight of ridicule and degradation eventually turned in to an amazing testament of someone with a huge heart and will. Some kids unfortunately continued to pick on Robert. However, as much as I’m sure it hurt, he continued on.
I remember one competition where a female race started after the male race Robert competed in (probably about half an hour or more after). Some of the girls in the later race were finishing their run before Robert. But he didn’t give up. He didn’t stop. There were many races where the time keepers stopped the clock before Robert crossed the finish line thinking all runners would have undoubtedly finished. Though discouraged, Robert kept running. And finishing.
Just to be clear, Robert was in the “hamburger” category of our team. However, there aren’t any other teammates I’m remembering right now that I’m still learning from. Though Robert was not a fast runner, he possessed something much deeper within. I have no idea where Robert is now, but I have a feeling he’s still running the race with a drive most can only hope for.
Life Reflected in Skipbo
Skipbo is a favorite around Hillview. It’s a fun game. It’s the type of game that you enjoy even if you lose; though, I admit, I’d still much rather win than lose! Recently while playing Skipbo I realized I can learn a lot about life from this simple game.
If you have never played Skipbo, God bless you, but you’re going to be lost in this article. Go purchase the game and learn how to play it! You’ll be a better person for it. For those of us who play Skipbo, you know what the purpose of the game is: to win. Yes, but in order to win you must play all the cards in your stack.
I recently played the game with someone who was still learning. They actually played a good amount of cards. However, they were much more focused on just playing any card rather than playing cards from their stack. At some point I realized that you can have a whole lot of activity in Skipbo – like playing all the cards in your hand and all your discards – but if you don’t play any cards from your stack, you’re not making any progress. You’re doing a lot but getting nowhere.
That’s kind of like life. We can do a lot of activity and exert a lot of energy, but if it isn’t in the right direction or with the right purpose, it’s kind of pointless and doesn’t really make much difference.
So go sit down right now and think about your purposes in life. Do your activities and energy support those purposes? Can you change something so they do? What are you doing to play the cards on your stack?
If you have never played Skipbo, God bless you, but you’re going to be lost in this article. Go purchase the game and learn how to play it! You’ll be a better person for it. For those of us who play Skipbo, you know what the purpose of the game is: to win. Yes, but in order to win you must play all the cards in your stack.
I recently played the game with someone who was still learning. They actually played a good amount of cards. However, they were much more focused on just playing any card rather than playing cards from their stack. At some point I realized that you can have a whole lot of activity in Skipbo – like playing all the cards in your hand and all your discards – but if you don’t play any cards from your stack, you’re not making any progress. You’re doing a lot but getting nowhere.
That’s kind of like life. We can do a lot of activity and exert a lot of energy, but if it isn’t in the right direction or with the right purpose, it’s kind of pointless and doesn’t really make much difference.
So go sit down right now and think about your purposes in life. Do your activities and energy support those purposes? Can you change something so they do? What are you doing to play the cards on your stack?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I.O.U.S.A.
So how about that national debt? Not really a traditional ice breaker question, but it's one worth asking every American. How much do you know about America's debt and how it affects you?
Last night I watched the documentary I.O.U.S.A. (http://www.iousathemovie.com/) which does a good job at explaining America's national debt, how we got where we are, and where we'll end up if we stay on the same path. It's quite alarming.
It's no secret that I've recently become passionate about teaching people sound financial principles. The more each of us learns about wise things to do with money, the more our nation and government will respond positively and be held accountable. The change must start with each of us individually, including you. As such, I encourage you educate yourself. If you don't know where to start watch I.O.U.S.A. or, for an even more palatable movie on personal debt, watch Maxed Out (http://www.maxedoutmovie.com/). You can also feel free to contact me if you want help in setting a positive, life changing direction concerning what you do with your money. I'd love to talk with you more!
Last night I watched the documentary I.O.U.S.A. (http://www.iousathemovie.com/) which does a good job at explaining America's national debt, how we got where we are, and where we'll end up if we stay on the same path. It's quite alarming.
It's no secret that I've recently become passionate about teaching people sound financial principles. The more each of us learns about wise things to do with money, the more our nation and government will respond positively and be held accountable. The change must start with each of us individually, including you. As such, I encourage you educate yourself. If you don't know where to start watch I.O.U.S.A. or, for an even more palatable movie on personal debt, watch Maxed Out (http://www.maxedoutmovie.com/). You can also feel free to contact me if you want help in setting a positive, life changing direction concerning what you do with your money. I'd love to talk with you more!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Enabling Those You Love
Here is a link to a letter from Abraham Lincoln to his brother-in-law: Lincoln Brother-in-Law Letter. Read it.
Lincoln's brother-in-law, Johnston, apparently continued asking Lincoln for the gift of money while facing hard times. Lincoln complied with this request at times, but eventually saw it created damage rather than hope and progress. As a result, Lincoln gave his brother-in-law the advice and offer found in the above letter.
Lincoln worked to serve his brother-in-law and teach him rather than enable him. I know I can take learn a lot from this situation.
Lincoln's brother-in-law, Johnston, apparently continued asking Lincoln for the gift of money while facing hard times. Lincoln complied with this request at times, but eventually saw it created damage rather than hope and progress. As a result, Lincoln gave his brother-in-law the advice and offer found in the above letter.
Lincoln worked to serve his brother-in-law and teach him rather than enable him. I know I can take learn a lot from this situation.
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Great Buy
Everyone commits stupid acts. I’ve heard such things called “Stupid Tax.” Not long ago I paid a bit of stupid tax.
My wife and chose to sell our truck and use the money from that sale to purchase a used car. After a bit of a roller coaster ride with months of effort we finally sold our truck. Now we were down to sharing one car while we searched for a great, reliable, economical car for around $5000.
I love finding a bargain so I took it upon myself to find the best deal out there. I began feverishly hunting for our new vehicle via classifieds, the internet, or any car with a used sign on it.
Finally I found a car that sounded great. It had low miles for what we were looking for, no accidents, power gadgets, and all the good stuff. It was one of those deals that seemed too good to be true.
It had just been posted online so the pressure was on. We needed to move quickly so this deal wouldn’t pass through our fingers. A call to the owner (David) revealed that he already received many inquiries of interest, but if we moved quickly we might be able to beat them. He was willing to meet at his work in an hour or so.
I called my wife and excitedly told her the good news. Since neither us of knew much about used cars, she suggested finding a friend with more knowledge to accompany us. That would take time. Didn’t she know this was a good deal? I reluctantly called a few friends who turned out to be unavailable. However, I armed myself with some quickly skimmed over articles of what to watch out for when purchasing a used vehicle.
Under my direction, we quickly rushed to a mall to meet this guy. On the way, I fleetingly thought, “Didn’t that article warn against meeting at a neutral place rather than the person’s house so if something comes up you know you can find the person again? Yeah, but the guy said he works at the mall; it’s fine.”
We arrived and called David’s cell phone while walking up to the mall doors. He didn’t pick up so I left a voice mail. A few minutes later he called on a different number laughing and saying he was already in the parking lot. I thought, “That’s a little strange he’s out there. Didn’t he say he worked near this entrance? How’d he slip by us? But this is a good deal we can’t pass up. Let’s go.”
David turned out to be a quick talker, but he was on break from work so that made sense. We gave the car a quick look over and test drive while David kept receiving calls from co-workers asking where he was. It was obviously past time for his break to be over; we must move quickly.
A half minute conversation between my wife and I (with the gracious permission of David’s patience) allowed us enough time to say things seemed good and that we would purchase the car. David excitedly accepted our $4950 in cash (which he previously explained we should bring with us), we rashly signed a couple things, and he walked off toward the mall with leaving us with the keys.
Wow. So we just bought a car. That was easier than I thought. Before David walked off, I quickly asked him (at the advice of a friend) for a seventy two hour “return” period if something big came up with the car. To my surprise, he graciously agreed without hesitation.
So away we went with our new car.
As I drove I began wondering at a couple noises I had failed to take note of in the test drive. That was all right though because I was going straight to the mechanic. (By the way, David had denied my request to visit the mechanic with the vehicle before purchase.)
I explained the situation to my mechanic, Danny, handed him the keys, and he drove off in our new beauty to further investigate the car’s condition. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, Danny asked me to come out into the shop so he could show me a couple things. The fist statement: “This car’s been in an accident.”
Accident? What? The guy told me that never had happened. It was recent? Are you sure he couldn’t have been mistaken? No? No.
That was the first punch in a series of fists where we found out David lied to us about several things. 50,000 miles rolled back. The year of the car. A door that refuses to open from the outside. A continued list of disappointments.
But that was all right because I still had seventy hours to give the car back. I called David and left him a message. I’m still waiting for him to return my call (and the many more I placed).
So I failed. I failed to research well. I failed to see so many signs of a bad deal. I failed to listen to my wife’s reservation and to truly connect with her in this situation. I failed to use my money wisely. I failed in many ways.
However, I also succeeded. I succeeded in uncovering an opportunity to learn. I was stupid and definitely paid my Stupid Tax. It could have been worse; at least the car ran and, according to Danny, should continue to run well despite the disappointments. Nonetheless, when I think back, I still cannot shake the feeling that someone hit me in the stomach with a sucker punch.
Sucker punched. This is a good feeling. Not because I enjoy pain, but because this pain teaches me.
I’m still driving my lemon around; partway proudly because it serves as a reminder that we all make mistakes. And even better, we can all learn from them.
My wife and chose to sell our truck and use the money from that sale to purchase a used car. After a bit of a roller coaster ride with months of effort we finally sold our truck. Now we were down to sharing one car while we searched for a great, reliable, economical car for around $5000.
I love finding a bargain so I took it upon myself to find the best deal out there. I began feverishly hunting for our new vehicle via classifieds, the internet, or any car with a used sign on it.
Finally I found a car that sounded great. It had low miles for what we were looking for, no accidents, power gadgets, and all the good stuff. It was one of those deals that seemed too good to be true.
It had just been posted online so the pressure was on. We needed to move quickly so this deal wouldn’t pass through our fingers. A call to the owner (David) revealed that he already received many inquiries of interest, but if we moved quickly we might be able to beat them. He was willing to meet at his work in an hour or so.
I called my wife and excitedly told her the good news. Since neither us of knew much about used cars, she suggested finding a friend with more knowledge to accompany us. That would take time. Didn’t she know this was a good deal? I reluctantly called a few friends who turned out to be unavailable. However, I armed myself with some quickly skimmed over articles of what to watch out for when purchasing a used vehicle.
Under my direction, we quickly rushed to a mall to meet this guy. On the way, I fleetingly thought, “Didn’t that article warn against meeting at a neutral place rather than the person’s house so if something comes up you know you can find the person again? Yeah, but the guy said he works at the mall; it’s fine.”
We arrived and called David’s cell phone while walking up to the mall doors. He didn’t pick up so I left a voice mail. A few minutes later he called on a different number laughing and saying he was already in the parking lot. I thought, “That’s a little strange he’s out there. Didn’t he say he worked near this entrance? How’d he slip by us? But this is a good deal we can’t pass up. Let’s go.”
David turned out to be a quick talker, but he was on break from work so that made sense. We gave the car a quick look over and test drive while David kept receiving calls from co-workers asking where he was. It was obviously past time for his break to be over; we must move quickly.
A half minute conversation between my wife and I (with the gracious permission of David’s patience) allowed us enough time to say things seemed good and that we would purchase the car. David excitedly accepted our $4950 in cash (which he previously explained we should bring with us), we rashly signed a couple things, and he walked off toward the mall with leaving us with the keys.
Wow. So we just bought a car. That was easier than I thought. Before David walked off, I quickly asked him (at the advice of a friend) for a seventy two hour “return” period if something big came up with the car. To my surprise, he graciously agreed without hesitation.
So away we went with our new car.
As I drove I began wondering at a couple noises I had failed to take note of in the test drive. That was all right though because I was going straight to the mechanic. (By the way, David had denied my request to visit the mechanic with the vehicle before purchase.)
I explained the situation to my mechanic, Danny, handed him the keys, and he drove off in our new beauty to further investigate the car’s condition. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, Danny asked me to come out into the shop so he could show me a couple things. The fist statement: “This car’s been in an accident.”
Accident? What? The guy told me that never had happened. It was recent? Are you sure he couldn’t have been mistaken? No? No.
That was the first punch in a series of fists where we found out David lied to us about several things. 50,000 miles rolled back. The year of the car. A door that refuses to open from the outside. A continued list of disappointments.
But that was all right because I still had seventy hours to give the car back. I called David and left him a message. I’m still waiting for him to return my call (and the many more I placed).
So I failed. I failed to research well. I failed to see so many signs of a bad deal. I failed to listen to my wife’s reservation and to truly connect with her in this situation. I failed to use my money wisely. I failed in many ways.
However, I also succeeded. I succeeded in uncovering an opportunity to learn. I was stupid and definitely paid my Stupid Tax. It could have been worse; at least the car ran and, according to Danny, should continue to run well despite the disappointments. Nonetheless, when I think back, I still cannot shake the feeling that someone hit me in the stomach with a sucker punch.
Sucker punched. This is a good feeling. Not because I enjoy pain, but because this pain teaches me.
I’m still driving my lemon around; partway proudly because it serves as a reminder that we all make mistakes. And even better, we can all learn from them.
Medical Emergency & Other Thoughts on Life
Recently while flying on an airplane I heard a frantic announcement over the PA system: “If there is a medical doctor on board this flight, please push your call button.” I saw a distinguished looking gentleman quickly rise from his seat and step into the isle. Instantly everyone on board felt a feeling in their stomach as if they had eaten a carton of spoiled yogurt.
I nervously glanced a few rows behind me to see a lady in her thirties breathing heavily through a red face. Ripples of panic and concern appeared through fellow travelers. I began hearing mutters along the lines of, “Oh man, now I’m going to arrive late.”
I must confess, that was my first thought. I’m going to arrive home late. How selfish is that? There is someone only feet away from me possibly dying, and I’m sitting here upset because inconvenience entered into my life. Selfish.
As I heard other travelers express their anger at inconvenience, I woke up from my selfish pity party and realized life is about more than me. Someone might die on this flight. Death.
My preoccupation with timeliness transformed to anger at myself and others for being selfish. It transformed into the question of what I could do to help out. Should I crowd in the isle around the person now lying on the floor? Probably not. Should I chide other passengers for their selfish comments? Not likely.
Pray. I chose to pray. At first I tried to say eloquent words to really get God’s attention in this emergency. But I just couldn’t. I was shaken up and had no idea how to pray. My prayer quickly became simply, “Jesus.” Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.
In that one simple name repeated I found that my selfishness was relieved. I found that my fears were calmed. My inability to love was transformed to need. I found myself thankful. Thankful for life. Thankful for the opportunity to draw to God.
Our flight made a last minute emergency landing in Phoenix to get this woman off the plane and to medical help. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to her once she exited the plane. I wish I did. However, I do know that inconvenience had miraculously become opportunity.
I nervously glanced a few rows behind me to see a lady in her thirties breathing heavily through a red face. Ripples of panic and concern appeared through fellow travelers. I began hearing mutters along the lines of, “Oh man, now I’m going to arrive late.”
I must confess, that was my first thought. I’m going to arrive home late. How selfish is that? There is someone only feet away from me possibly dying, and I’m sitting here upset because inconvenience entered into my life. Selfish.
As I heard other travelers express their anger at inconvenience, I woke up from my selfish pity party and realized life is about more than me. Someone might die on this flight. Death.
My preoccupation with timeliness transformed to anger at myself and others for being selfish. It transformed into the question of what I could do to help out. Should I crowd in the isle around the person now lying on the floor? Probably not. Should I chide other passengers for their selfish comments? Not likely.
Pray. I chose to pray. At first I tried to say eloquent words to really get God’s attention in this emergency. But I just couldn’t. I was shaken up and had no idea how to pray. My prayer quickly became simply, “Jesus.” Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.
In that one simple name repeated I found that my selfishness was relieved. I found that my fears were calmed. My inability to love was transformed to need. I found myself thankful. Thankful for life. Thankful for the opportunity to draw to God.
Our flight made a last minute emergency landing in Phoenix to get this woman off the plane and to medical help. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to her once she exited the plane. I wish I did. However, I do know that inconvenience had miraculously become opportunity.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)