Every day I am gifted with 86,400 seconds of precious time. I cannot possibly use all of it wisely. But I can invest more of that daily gift into my relationships with God and others. I can’t draw interest on unused time to be used later. Time is far more valuable than the money we so doggedly pursue. I can lose all my money and make more later. But if I lose my time, it is gone forever. Solomon actually beat me to this message by about three thousand years, give or take. He decided that, all things considered, the best way to live is to enjoy the moment. “Even so, I have noticed one thing, at least, that is good. It is good for people to eat, drink, and enjoy their work under the sun during the short life God has given them, and to accept their lot in life.” (Ecclesiastes 5:18 NLT) Not to be maudlin, but that
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I love this quote from E. L. Doctorow about writing: “It’s like driving a car at night: you never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” That is profoundly simple and true. I think this principle applies to writing, living, and especially for navigating a life of faith. Life is like driving in fog. I wish I could see farther ahead on my journey, but the truth is, I cannot. I can see only as far as the light that illuminates my path. Because I’m a follower of Jesus that is all I really need to know. Christ, my Light, reassures me that I can (and will) make the whole trip in that way. But there is fear in the unknown of the future, and it is easy to dwell in the sad memories of the past. Not dwelling in the past is a huge issue to address on my journey to enable me
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The start of my faith journey was mired in legalism. Starting down that rugged highway led me to years of sadness, tiredness, and performance bondage. I think that is why the song “Redeemed” recorded by Big Daddy Weave remains one of my favorite descriptions of what it means to understand the redemptive gift from Jesus. Lead singer Mike Weaver wrote Redeemed while feeling broken and inadequate despite recognizing God’s presence in his life. He said, “For as long as I can remember I have always never felt like I was enough.” I can so relate to the opening stanza of Redeemed. Seems like all I could see was the struggleHaunted by ghosts that lived in my pastBound up in shackles of all my failuresWondering how long is this gonna last… I remembered day after day of agonizing self-loathing because I kept failing. I did not understand the mercy of Jesus nor did I believe I could fall on His grace. I
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There is much written about Good Friday. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross still feels incomprehensible at times. There is much written about Easter Sunday. Christians around the world rejoice and proclaim that “He is risen!”. But there is not nearly as much written about one of the saddest and most confusing days in history for the original followers of Jesus. The Saturday between the Friday horror of Jesus on the Cross and the Sunday mystery of the resurrection. Some churches do observe Holy Saturday but it was never a tradition in my faith upbringing. I have been thinking about what that day must have been like for those who dropped everything to follow Jesus. How crushing those events had to be. I imagine the fear they felt that they would also be killed. And for what? On Saturday they feared they had given their careers and their very souls for a false hope. I think in particular
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The sadness, division, and fear in our country feels like it will be here forever. How can you navigate the broken roads of this world? A song titled Bless the Broken Road was made popular by Rascal Flatts and the lyrics describe how difficulties are often teaching moments for future blessings. I set out on a narrow way, many years agoHoping I would find true love, along the broken roadBut I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow and kept pushing through It is so interesting to look back over the landscape of over five decades (yikes) of my journey with Jesus. I can see God’s hand in so many events and heartbreaks in my life. My early church experience was a broken road of legalistic and judgmental Christians who crushed the spirit of a young and fumbling Christian. That experience became the basis of my books. Sadly, many of us bear the wounds of dealing with imperfect people in
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There is no more special day in sports than Opening Day in baseball. It is an annual rite of Spring to post this article on the magic of Opening Day. The smell of freshly cut emerald green grass delights the senses. The base lines painstakingly and perfectly defined by a grounds crew that is committed to perfection on this day. Red, white, and blue bunting give the ball park a festive World Series look. The players bounce around like little boys. They seem a little extra grateful that they are paid to play a kid’s game. The hot dogs taste like gourmet food. Humphrey Bogard wisely said that “a hot dog at the ballpark is better than a steak at the Ritz”. Souvenirs a young fan begs for become treasures to be kept until adulthood. And then it becomes a challenge to explain to your wife why a twenty-five-year old bobble head needs to be in the china cabinet. Children
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Texas seasons can be brutal for plants and trees. This January an ice storm left mounds of rock solid ice in our yard. Several of the plants in our landscaping were completely buried in ice. Not snow. Ice. We expected they would not survive. The ice very slowly melted and many of the bushes were buried for a week. The plants looked barren as they gradually reappeared. Day after day it seemed likely replacements would be coming. Then one glorious day tiny buds began to appear on the branches. Green buds sprouted in defiance of winters brutal assault. I stopped and meditated on the miracle of life emerging out of barrenness. I thought of the words of philosopher Bernard Williams. “The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.” I love that. Is there anything more hopeful than watching the beauty of budding leaves and blooming flowers turning the melancholy of winter into a wondrous palette
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