I’m at the age now where I’m too old to do all the things I used to be able to do, but I’m not old enough to realize I should sometimes skip the attempt. I think it’s safe to say it’s a little late for me to start thinking about a career as a professional athlete.
The kids are getting quicker and I’m getting slower. Injuries and sore muscles take longer to overcome. I rest a little longer between sets when working out. I could push through the pain, but these days I put a lot more thought into whether or not that’s a good idea. It feels like every year gets a little shorter than the last one. In my mind I’m still in my mid-twenties, but the aches and stiffness in my joints tell a very different story. I blinked and it’s twenty years later.
I share this because I want to emphasize to you the idea that our time here is short. For our lives to have an eternal impact, we have to be doing productive things in the here and now, and the here and now is quickly passing us by. That means our time is precious and should be filled with purpose. Here on Earth, we’ve only got one lifetime to make a difference for those not currently headed to Heaven. Eternity hangs in the balance, and the stakes are the highest they could possibly be.
Got time for two and a half minutes of Christian motivation? Here’s one of my favorite quotes from this clip I hope you check out. “My life is too valuable, my calling too great, my God too good, to waste my life on things that do not last.”
Time is short. Live with a sense of urgency and intentionality. You have ONE life during which to make an eternal impact.
If you’re a long-time reader, you may know there’ve been times in my life where God’s been very gracious in assigning me guardian angels that were really on the ball.
In high school I got into rappelling. It was lots of fun, and I looked for different places and opportunities to do it. I got to zip down the elevator shaft of a building under construction, repeatedly jump off an old antenna tower, and even descend onto a stage in front of a live audience while upside-down a couple of times.
One of the first times I volunteered to use this “talent” for something other than myself was for a video advertisement for a youth group fundraiser we were hosting at our church. I worked with a guy that agreed to film it, and we went to a multi-purpose room/auditorium nearby to make the ad. The place had a drop ceiling with those Styrofoam-like tiles, and I was going to pop down out of it, look around, and say something like “hey, anyone know where the spaghetti dinner is?” (I think the premise was that if it had something cool like rappelling, it didn’t need to make any sense.)
I’m pretty sure at that point I hadn’t yet done anything complex when it came to rappelling. It was mostly out of trees or off something pretty straightforward. Here I had to climb up into the drop ceiling, hunch over and scoot along the wooden planks and steel trusses in a crawlspace that was probably only about 3 feet high while dragging my gear along, then crouch uncomfortably and try to avoid muscle spasms while I set the anchors and figured out how to safely fall through a two-foot by two-foot opening when my rappelling profile was much larger than two feet.
I didn’t really think about it much at the time, but it turns out this was remarkably dangerous, especially for someone so inexperienced. If my present-day self could communicate with my then-self, there’d likely be some yelling about the bone-headed, unnecessarily risky nature of it all. I was probably 15 or 16, clambering along the framework of the roof probably 25-30 feet above a concrete floor. I’d seen the floor view of the drop ceiling lots of times before, but it was all dark and dusty up above, and the tiles hid the fact that it was a long way down. Up in the ceiling there were very few safe places to stop and rest; if a foot or hand slipped and I fell, those thin little tiles were nowhere near strong enough to catch me. While scooting out to where I wanted to be, I couldn’t see the danger, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.
The fact that I couldn’t see the floor way down below helped mask just how dangerous the situation was. It was still crazy unsafe (even foolish) for me to do what I was doing, but since the drop ceiling was only a foot or two beneath my feet, it made me feel more comfortable than I should have. I was hunched over or crouched for extended periods, sweat beading up on my forehead, with no safety attachments as I scrambled along. If the ceiling had been open and I had seen how high I was, in addition to the struggles I was dealing with, I probably would have had the good sense to say “ehhhh, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
Being ignorant of danger doesn’t make us any safer. I wonder how many of us are dealing with very dangerous things, either knowingly or unknowingly, that could have a serious impact on our spiritual lives, the relationships we hold dear, or some other aspect of our lives. Maybe there’s something you’re doing that “isn’t going to hurt anybody,” or “isn’t as bad as the thing what’s-her-name is doing,” but you know it’s not something the Lord would approve of. I pray you’d see and become fully aware of the danger it poses (whether spiritually, physically, or otherwise), and have the good sense you need to make the right choice about continuing to engage in such things.
Lord, we all have blind spots in our lives. I ask that You’d highlight the things we’re doing or not doing in our lives which we should re-evaluate, and please give us the sense to make choices removing us from danger we would have otherwise brought on ourselves. These things I ask in Your name, Amen.
My kids are old enough that at this point they’ve all played instruments in the school band/orchestra. While I have to admit the concerts during those early years can make the audience cringe from time to time, it’s much more enjoyable to attend concerts after those musicians gain a few years of experience. A couple of my kiddos have done well enough with their music to make the cut into groups requiring an audition, and those concerts are the fun ones to attend.
Maybe you’ve had kids (or a sibling) in some kind of concert band/orchestra; as a concert draws near, you hear them at home rehearsing the same parts over and over. They get smoother with time, but you still only hear the same parts repeated time and again. This goes on and on until the concert finally arrives.
Before the concert begins it’s common to hear the musicians warming up on stage. At first it’s the sound of a weird, jumbled mess of all kinds of different instruments doing their own thing according to their own timing. It’s certainly not a polished sound. The conductor or other music teacher is usually running around, helping students do last-minute tunings. Then, as the warm-up nears its end, the conductor takes the podium and has each section play a few different notes. It’s interesting to me how the conductor can detect an instrument out there somewhere that’s not tuned correctly, and he or she will have the different students of that section play, one at a time, until they’ve found the errant instrument and made adjustments.
Finally, after introductions, the conductor once again takes the podium and indicates to the musicians to prepare to play. The conductor is usually the most interesting person to watch. I’ve seen a number of them in the concerts my kids have been a part of. Sometimes they’re energetic, other times not so much. Some are very straight-laced, and others have a little more flair. They’re all very talented, and they try to coax excellence out of their musicians.
Depending on the size of the group of students, the conductor has a lot to keep an eye on. The kids all have different energy levels for a concert. Some are calm beyond their years. Others have nervous energy that leaks out in the form of a foot that doesn’t stop tapping, a knee that doesn’t stop bouncing, or a head that doesn’t stop bobbing or swaying. The conductor has to manage the enthusiasm of the entire body. Many times the energy accompanying the excitement of the evening nearly boils over, and the pace or volume needs to be reigned in a little bit. Later in the concert, maybe in a section where one of the students wasn’t able to show up for the concert, the others in that section need to come up with a little more than they otherwise would have. It’s fun to see when the conductor points to a section and beckons them silently, but urgently, as if to say “c’mon, I need more from you!” As the piece builds and builds, it gets to the point the conductor has been waiting for, where their arms flail about and they nod their head emphatically as if to say “now!”
Part of the real enjoyment of a concert is the fact that all these musicians are contributing to something larger than themselves. Those parts my kids have been practicing over and over are definitely audible, but I also hear plenty of parts from other instruments I haven’t been hearing at home. Those parts are stitched together to produce something none of the individual instruments could have produced on their own. At some point in a good concert I’m just kind of overcome with awe: “This is how it’s supposed to be. Everyone’s doing something different, but they’re all working together toward a common goal.”
It’s a beautiful metaphor for the body of Christ. Even though we might possess similar gifts as others and might be grouped into sections, we still play a variety of instruments. Some are gifted at evangelism while others excel at teaching. Certain people have the gift of helps, or hospitality, or exhortation; others possess talents like administration, leadership, or compassion. Even the odd instruments that don’t have an appealing sound (like the slapper or the clunky bells with a tinny sound) contribute beneficially to the piece. They often punctuate the music in a memorable way. Yep, we have lots of those folks in the body of Christ, and I’m thankful for them!
Through all of this, the most important thing is to keep your eyes on the conductor. It’s easy to get distracted by the person next to you, or getting too far ahead of yourself thinking about the difficult part coming up, or even having your timing thrown off. Watching the conductor keeps you grounded and dealing only with the here and now, it keeps you on the right beat, and it tells you when to start and when to stop. Don’t lose sight of the one who can see everybody and who’s holding everything together. Follow the conductor’s lead and you’ll contribute something beautiful to something larger than yourself.
Remember assemblies in elementary school? It was always fun to show up for those. One time when I was probably in third or fourth grade they had us all come in and sit down cross-legged on the floor. I don’t remember what this particular assembly was about, but part of the way through, the side door suddenly opened, and some huge dude in a basketball uniform exploded into the auditorium, dribbled the ball a few times, and laid the ball into the nearby hoop while just about touching the rim.
I think this guy was a student at our high school down the road. I don’t remember much else about this assembly; I think he was an all-star or someone who was getting a pretty big scholarship to a college somewhere. If I saw this happen today, I probably wouldn’t be too impressed. But when you’re like, four feet tall, sitting on the floor, and some high schooler bursts in and does what he did, it leaves you in awe. We all ended up standing in line to get the guy’s autograph.
Maybe he eventually made it to the big leagues; maybe he peaked in high school. I’ve got no way of knowing. For all I know, his autograph is still stashed away in some box in my attic. I’ve got no idea what happened to that guy, or even who he was.
It’s a little sad, but even most people in your family are more or less forgotten after two or three generations. Sure, you can trace back to them in your family tree, but unless you interacted with them and have memories of them it gets tough to feel like you really knew them.
This life is very brief. James 4:14 says “Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” Our lives (especially the glory of youth) are fleeting. Want to be a part of something that truly lasts? Participate in building the Lord’s kingdom. Use the spiritual gifts you’ve been given. You’ve been entrusted with time, talents, and treasure; seek the Lord’s will for how He wants you to put them to good use working for Him. If you jump in, you’ll be part of something that doesn’t fade with time.
If you’re a regular reader, you know my view that God’s got a plan for your life. There is, however, a flip side. If the Bible is true and everything it says is correct, there’s not only a good guy, there’s also a bad guy in this story.
We know God’s all-powerful. We know Satan’s not. So how does Satan fight God? Satan uses us…humans…as both leverage and collateral damage not as a way of fighting or manipulating God, but as a means of hurting Him. Think about it; Satan knows the power of what Christ did on the cross. He knows his days of freedom are numbered, and he’s powerless to change the outcome. The best he can do is harm something God loves. That’s us.
So what does that look like? People across the planet fall into two different “teams.” There are people on God’s team, and there are people who aren’t on God’s team. When we’re born, we’re automatically in that second category (Romans 3:23). Our default status is “people who aren’t on God’s team.” It’s only by making a conscious decision to accept Christ as savior that we switch to God’s team, trading an eternity of separation from God for an eternity in His presence.
Satan, therefore, doesn’t need to win. He just needs to not lose.
Back in the summer of 2020 I wrote what I’d consider to be some of this site’s most insightful content. I thought I’d be done in four entries, but ended up needing a fifth. In light of what was going on in the world at the time you may find more than a few Covid references, but the heart of the content is still good. Think of the first few of these as a shorter version of the Screwtape Letters. Click on a few of them to check them out:
This past weekend my family went to a Tobymac concert.
For those who don’t know, Tobymac is a Christian recording artist. At this point he’s been around for a long time; he initially gained fame as part of the Christian rock/rap group DC Talk, then began a solo career once they disbanded. He used to do a lot of high-energy songs that found their way into my workout playlist, and while he still does some of that, his style has evolved over time to include a pretty wide variety of music types.
When I was a kid I listened to a Christian singer named Steven Curtis Chapman. I wouldn’t say he was a country singer, but he definitely had a folksy twang as part of his sound. On one of his albums, he collaborated with a young Tobymac, who was part of DC Talk at the time, on a song called “Got To B Tru.” For this particular song, Steven Curtis Chapman (folksy twang) decided he was going to jump into the obnoxious rap scene popular in the early 90’s (the kind Tobymac was a part of). It was a fun crossover, and it helped raise Tobymac’s profile to have such a well-known artist as Steven Curtis Chapman work on a song with him.
I then started paying attention to Tobymac in the early 2000s when I heard a song of his make it onto some kind of rock compilation album I picked up somewhere. Then in 2007 or 2008 my young wife and I went to see him in concert for the first time as part of his “Portable Sounds” tour. As I’ve continued paying attention to his work, it’s become obvious that he was very grateful for the opportunity as a young artist to work with a headliner, and he’s done numerous collaborations with younger or less-well-known performers since gaining his own success.
This past weekend while our family waited for him to take the stage, four different acts came out and performed a set list of their own. Some of these singers I’ve never heard of, but in most cases I knew at least one of the songs they performed. Truth be told, Tobymac was the guy I came to see, and I would have been fine if I only saw his act. These other performers, though, benefit from being on tour with a more seasoned veteran.
Even though few, if any, members of the audience came to see these other acts, being on a tour like this provides them with valuable learning opportunities. They gain experience learning how to work the crowd. They learn a bit about how to craft their stage presence. They might discover things they should not attempt while on stage. These four acts were in various stages of development, and a couple of them could probably soon start to go on tours of their own. It might be a little much for them to scrape together enough startup cash to plan a tour of their own right now, but being in a positions where they can borrow a piece of equipment from someone else on the tour if a speaker’s on the fritz gives them more of a cushion and some experience dealing with unanticipated problems on the road that will benefit them later in their career.
I’m not going to pretend taking four warm-up acts on the road is totally out of the goodness of Tobymac’s heart; I’m sure there’s some kind of financial benefit involved for him. Even so, he likely had to go out of his way to convince a few folks to include more than two or three opening acts on the tour. Whoever those final additions to the tour were, I’m sure they benefitted from it.
In your life, is there someone you could take under your wing and help to get started, either in their career, their ministry, or in some other aspect of their life? I’m sure you’ve gained a lot of hard-fought lessons that only come from experience. While many younger folks out there may not care to benefit from it, there are probably others who would. Even though it might add a little inconvenience, would you consider helping them out as they try to get some direction or some momentum?
Lord, thank you so much for those who’ve come before me and lent me a hand, some good advice, or some encouragement along the way. Help me use the lessons I’ve learned to help others who aren’t as far along as I am. Amen.
During my senior year in college, a buddy and I drove out west in February and did some winter camping in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains. This was quite the leap for me; prior to this, I think I had only slept outside in a tent in someone’s backyard once.
Our first day in Utah, we stopped to see some of the sights in Salt Lake City. It was probably 40 degrees and overcast as we walked around and explored a little bit. Soon after, we got back in the car and headed for the park where we’d planned to set up camp.
That area is kind of funny; it was warm and pleasant (for February) in the city, but as we drove just a few miles and gained some elevation, it started snowing. This was back in the dark ages before everybody had GPS, so we weren’t as confident about our location as it’s easy to be today. The roads got smaller and snowier, and we had to drive slower to be safe.
As we passed signs confirming we were where we wanted to be, we started relaxing about being lost, but got a little intimidated by seeing white everywhere and knowing this was the environment we’d be sleeping in. We passed a little parking lot that said something about paying for a parking pass, but with all the stuff going on in our heads, we didn’t pay much attention to it, or figured we’d come back once we knew for sure we were in the right place. We got to the final parking lot before a locked gate barred any further vehicle passage, parked the car, and skied off into the forest for our winter camping adventure.
Fast forward a day or two, and we’d survived at least one frosty night in the snow. My buddy and I were back at the car in the parking lot, swapping out some gear or something. A park ranger was making the rounds in the parking lot. Seeing us, she came over with a big, bright smile, and we started chatting. The Winter Olympics were in town, which was why we had come. She wanted to hear about where we’d come from, what events we were going to see, and we swapped perspectives about some of the big news of the games so far. She was very personable, and thought what we were doing was really cool.
Eventually she took a look at the front of our car and didn’t see the parking pass that was supposed to be displayed on the dashboard. When she asked about it, we were forced to admit we hadn’t purchased one. She squinted her eyes shut and tossed her head back, as though she were saddened for us. “Oh, guys, come on!” She then performed her duty of writing us a citation, which I probably still have sitting around somewhere in the basement. I think she signed it Ranger Chen or something. She was perfectly willing to spend time being nice to us and chatting with us, but her cordiality didn’t supersede her authority and responsibility.
One of the conundrums non-Christians can fall victim to is some version of the idea that “if God’s all-knowing and knows my heart, he knows I’m a mostly good person, and even though I never ‘gave my heart to him’ or whatever, he must know that I would have if I had been presented with the choice.” I can see how that might make sense to them, but they’re looking at the picture without having all the information.
God is holiness personified. Holiness means “set apart.” He’s beholden to abide by the rules He Himself laid out. That means He can’t let unholiness exist in the glory of His presence. Someone who hasn’t accepted Christ as Savior does not have their sins blotted out, so their unholiness would be in danger of contaminating God’s holiness. Although God freely offers Christ’s righteousness to all, He can’t/won’t tolerate the unholiness of those who don’t accept it.
In His role of authority, God looks at those who don’t make the choice to follow Him and says “Guys, I love you, but you DO have to play by the rules. You ARE subject to the penalty associated with sin.” For every person who dies without accepting Christ, God hurts for their loss. I imagine He might toss His head back with eyes squinted shut, just like that park ranger, saying “Rrrrghh! Even after all the evidence I put in front of them!”
If you’re still breathing, you still have the opportunity to accept Christ as your savior. Don’t assume you’ll have time to think about it later, though. Every breath you take is a gift from the Lord, and you don’t know how many more you’ve got left. Take some time right now to consider what to do with the question of who Jesus Christ is.
After finishing college I moved back in with Mom and Dad for about a year and a half and worked in construction while I tried to figure out what to do with my life. During that time I helped out with the youth group in the church I’d attended since I was a kid.
One of the big events on the youth group’s calendar was a 4-day/3-night retreat over President’s Day weekend at a Christian conference center very close to the church. This particular retreat, dubbed “Winter Weekend,” was a popular one for the churches in our denomination’s district. Churches from Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York sent kids from their youth groups to attend the gathering. I went along to serve as one of the guys’ counselors for our church’s group.
It was a good retreat. There were sports tournaments to compete in, along with a number of Bible sessions featuring praise and worship, and some small group time with just our church’s group. A lot of kids had an emotional encounter with Christ, and a number of them accepted Him as lord and savior of their lives.
About midway through the weekend, the question of weather began to become an issue. All the different churches’ groups were scheduled to depart Monday morning, but a significant snowstorm was on track to hit our area Sunday night and into the wee hours of Monday morning.
It wasn’t quite this bad, thankfully!
Leaders from the various groups collectively conferred with the conference center’s staff to figure out options, and each group decided what was best for their situation. A few of them made the difficult decision to leave early so they could beat the weather. Our group and a few others, on the other hand, decided to stay and ride out the storm, overstaying the scheduled end to the retreat in the process. Since the same storm that was about to hit us would also hit our home school district, we knew the local schools would be shut down for a bit. Our youth leader passed word to all the parents of the retreat’s attendees from our church, and let them know they could pick up their kids directly from the retreat as originally scheduled if they wanted, but otherwise we’d delay our return to the church by about 24 hours.
We went to bed Sunday night, and woke up to some heavy snow the next morning. The staff dug us out with snowblowers and plows, and the township and county began working to clear the local roads. One of my fellow counselors, who had attended Winter Weekend for years as a camper, talked excitedly about how it seemed like a dream come true…having a snowstorm strand us all together a little bit longer during a spiritual high. The cooks managed to cobble together three unplanned meals for us, the conference center managed to scrape up some staff to keep stuff open for a bunch of restless, hungry teens, and the various youth leaders and worship leaders called audibles for some unanticipated programming. It ended up being a very sweet time of togetherness, worship, and focus on the Lord.
I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but opportunities to extend a shared spiritual high don’t come along very often. It seems much more common to be hanging on for dear life as the world’s troubles relentlessly assail you, leaving you bruised and battered.
That’s what makes it all the more important to get a break in routine. Maybe you can’t manage a week-long, or even a weekend-long retreat, but it might be worth investigating anyway. There’s something about putting the normal distractions of life on hold while someone else pours into you spiritually. Does your church have a men’s or women’s retreat coming up? Maybe there’s an opportunity for you to do something along those lines this summer. Consider taking a closer look at those kinds of opportunities, because getting away from the normal routines and daily responsibilities for awhile can be incredibly revitalizing.
I was fortunate one summer during college to get a job working in the field of residential construction despite not having any experience. It was interesting work and taught me stuff I still use years later.
When you’re an entry-level guy on a construction crew, it’s no surprise that you get a lot of the jobs nobody else wants. Grunt work: carrying heavy stuff, doing the sweaty work out in the sun while everyone else is in the shade or air conditioning, etc. You get the idea.
One of the not-so-bad new guy chores was going on coffee runs. The first construction crew I worked on had a coffee break every morning, so whoever went on a coffee run would take coffee orders and pick up a box of donuts or something at a gas station in town.
There was only one problem. I didn’t (and still don’t) drink coffee, and it’s not a good idea to send a non-coffee drinker on coffee runs unless they know what they’re doing. And man, I did NOT know what I was doing.
The size of our crew varied, but in general there were anywhere from three to eight workers giving orders to the coffee runner. The only thing I could reliably deliver was the box of donuts.
“Yeah, get me a large coffee, light and sweet.” Okay, so that means cream and sugar. But how much cream and how much sugar? Is that like, half coffee and half milk? (That’s what “half and half” means, right?) I can get you a black coffee and grab the number of sugar packets you tell me to, but if I have to just dump in sugar, you might not like what I bring you. Powdered creamer…what the heck is that? Does that take the place of cream and sugar?
It wasn’t long before someone else started doing the coffee runs.
Admittedly, I could have done better with this task. “Hospitality” is not one of my gifts, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have tried harder. I think one thing that makes God smile is when you’re willing to take on a kingdom role totally outside your normal skillset. While it’s important to use the gifts God’s given you, it’s also important to be humble and reliant on Him. After all, successful use of your spiritual gifts could bring a degree of success that makes it easy for you to get a little too big for your britches. Floundering in something you’re a little less cut out for every now and then helps you keep some of that humility.
So use your spiritual gifts, and use them as best you can for God’s glory; just don’t limit yourself to the things you’re good at. Sometimes all God wants from you is a willing heart, regardless of how good (or bad) you might be at what He’s giving you to do.
Have you ever heard stories of someone’s faith inspiring others?
There’s a story in the Bible about the faith of a guy who probably wasn’t a believer, but was moved to action by someone else’s strong faith.
Acts chapter 27, verses 13-44 tell of when Paul was on his way to be tried in Rome. Along the way, the ship he was on (with 276 people aboard) got caught in a very strong, dangerous windstorm that blew the ship hopelessly off course. This late-season storm made even veteran sailors scared. These guys tossed cables and ropes around the underside of the boat to try to help hold it together. They threw extra cargo and gear overboard to make the ship lighter. Time dragged on, and after days without seeing the sun or any stars, they gave up all hope of living through the ordeal.
That’s when Paul, a passenger on this boat, bucks everyone up. He stands up in the midst of everyone and says “hey, we’re going to be okay. Last night an angel of the Lord visited me and told me what to expect; we’re going to lose the ship, but every last one of us is going to make it through this alive, as long as we all stay on the ship.”
This lifted everyone’s spirits, but there wasn’t any concrete action yet. Sailors taking depth soundings around midnight one night learned they were entering shallower and shallower water, and they dropped all kinds of anchors to slow their speed toward the shore. They were just hoping to survive until daylight. A few of the less scrupulous sailors aboard the ship prepared to use the ship’s skiff (dinghy) to pretend to assist with the anchors. In reality, they were going to ditch everyone else aboard and try to make for land in the little boat.
Here’s the remarkable part. Paul saw what they were up to, and told Julius, the Roman centurion in charge of the ship, “hey, if those guys leave, I can’t guarantee the lives of everyone else left aboard.” Julius, a professional career military man, with no hard evidence Paul was right, did something very uncharacteristic for a man of his position. He had his men intentionally cut the skiff’s ropes, so they purposely lost that asset to the storm!
What kind of craziness is that?! The smaller boat would be very valuable to have if a shipwreck really was forthcoming. The ship did run aground, and everybody got to land safely, but Julius had no way of knowing ahead of time Paul would be right. This guy was not a believer; he was merely inspired by Paul’s faith.
People want to hope; they’re looking for a reason and an outlet for it. Do you have the kind of faith that steels the confidence of others around you? It’s important not to make things up; Paul DID get a visit from an angel. Even if you don’t get similar visits, live your Christian faith in accordance with the Bible’s teachings in such a way that your belief in God’s promises motivates others to take a closer look at the faith you’ve got.
