Tag: kid

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God Hasn’t Changed One Bit

About a year ago we had a brief reunion to celebrate some milestone birthdays in our family. It was a special time where we got together with loved ones, some of which I hadn’t seen in about 15 years. I also returned to my uncle’s house for the first time in 25 years. It was a wonderful time of celebration and it was so good to catch up with everyone.

In the course of traveling to the get-together, we spent a couple nights at my parents’ house. This is the house where I grew up, and now I’m bringing my kids there for visits.

Although my whole family’s been to my parents’ house plenty of times, on this particular occasion I took the opportunity to take a walk by myself around the neighborhood and see what things looked like.

There were parts of the neighborhood I haven’t seen for probably 15 years or more, but it had been 30 or so since I really knew it well. So many memories came back as I walked around (some of which I’ve written about before). I used to cut through that backyard all the time on my bike until the owner yelled at me for leaving bike tracks in his lawn. I got stuck in the mud when that house was new. I wonder whatever happened to the people that used to live here? I helped build that house right there. Oh wow, those people were awesome, I wonder how they’re doing?! Don’t go trick-or-treating there, that lady hands out little boxes of raisins. Here’s the hill that a friend and I went flying down on a piece of plywood nailed to a skateboard. A bunch of us did backyard wrestling all the time right over there on that grass.

It was crazy to see how much things changed, but at the same time how much they stayed the same. Like going back to visit your elementary school as an adult, the place just kinda seemed smaller than I remembered. Trees that were small when I was young had now reached full size, while others had been removed. That house looks like it’s in shambles, but that one looks great. Between when I lived there as a kid and when I went for a walk around the place, some houses in the neighborhood had been sold and resold an unknown number of times, but other houses still had the same owners. At the homes where my friends had lived (and where I had spent lots of time), I wondered what the insides of the houses looked like now. Was that crack in the drywall still there?

It was a bittersweet trip down memory lane. As a kid I recognized everyone’s car, but now if someone drove past and waved, I probably wouldn’t have a clue who it was. The weird part was that the driver could be someone that was a child the last time they passed me in a car.

Whether it’s houses, cars, or people, none of it lasts forever. Time relentlessly marches past, and the older we get, we become increasingly aware of how quickly it passes. I’m incredibly grateful that even though I’m becoming more and more aware of just how fleeting this life is, God hasn’t changed one bit in the entire time I’ve been walking this planet. Cultural shifts about what is and what isn’t acceptable continue to change, and so does conventional wisdom. Through it all though, the God watching over me today is the same one that set the planets in motion, who brought the Israelites out of slavery, and who blinded Saul on the road to Damascus. Only His covenants have changed, and they’ve only gotten better with time.

Of old you laid the foundation of the earth,
    and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you will remain;
    they will all wear out like a garment.
You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away,
    but you are the same, and your years have no end. -Psalm 102:25-27

Praise be to the everlasting One, and all glory to the One who invites us to spend eternity with Him (in bodies that don’t degrade)!

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Do You Know How To Spot the Fake?

When I was a kid there were a group of us in the neighborhood that were fans of WWF wrestling (now WWE wrestling).

It was great, man. Every Saturday morning we’d watch as a cast of colorful characters, with clear good guys and bad guys, all had a chance to beat each other up. There was “the Macho Man” Randy Savage, Hulk Hogan, The Ultimate Warrior, Jake “The Snake” Roberts, Bret “The Hitman” Hart, and tons of other wrestlers.

We’d watch as the good guys took on the bad guys, and made the bad guys pay for whatever line they happened to cross that week. With jaws on the floor, we felt the shock and betrayal as a good guy went bad, or cheer when a bad guy turned good. We’d even try doing the moves on each other in somebody’s backyard while adding goofy commentary in the style of what we heard on TV. Thankfully the wrestlers back then weren’t as high-flying as today, otherwise we probably all would’ve gotten hurt a lot more.

As I got older, more people around me started talking about how fake it was. “Fake?” I thought. Hmmm. I didn’t buy it right away, but I started seeing things a bit differently as I watched. While there was still plenty of potential for all the characters to get hurt (and they often did), I started noticing how they acted in ways that didn’t seem like consistent behavior. “How come that guy can usually get hit with a chair and it doesn’t stop him, but he picks right now to take forever getting up after getting kicked in the stomach?” Or maybe “it sure is convenient how that referee got knocked out, then woke up right after the bad guy cheated.”

While I prefer the term “scripted,” the bottom line is that yeah, this isn’t totally real. Wrestlers are performers and athletes, certainly, but it’s somehow not quite the same when everyone in the ring knows what will happen before the match even starts. In that sense, it’s fake. In order for me to accept that, though, I had to compare what I was seeing and hearing to what I already knew.

Did you know that even now people are active targets of spiritual deception…by supernatural enemies? It’s true. Normally we think of flesh and blood enemies, but consider this scenario. If a fallen angel took the form of a “righteous” person, and tried to impart some special “wisdom” to an average Jane/Joe and gave some sort of accompanying supernatural sign, I might not be able to blame Jane/Joe for putting some stock in what they just witnessed. Here’s the kicker though: we’ve been warned that this will happen.

In 2 Corinthians chapter 11, Paul discusses not only false apostles, but fallen angels posing as messengers from God:

            13 For such people are false apostles, deceitful workers, masquerading as apostles of Christ. 14 And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. 15 It is not surprising, then, if his servants also masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve.

This is a real thing, and many people have been led away from the simple truth of the gospel because of it.

Study your Bible, both Old Testament and New. Think on it, and don’t ever let it be far from your thoughts. The more you know about it, the easier it will be for you to spot a counterfeit when it crosses your path. When someone “masquerades as a servant of righteousness,” question what you’re seeing and hearing. It may take a bit to accept that you may have been duped, but the important thing is not to delay once you’ve discovered the deception. Sound the alarm for students of that school of thought. You’re not responsible for what those people think, but maybe you can help them understand they have a choice to make; don’t be afraid to point out the inconsistencies with scriptures to them. Hopefully they’ll thank you for it later.

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You’re the Key

Those are all keys behind him

When I was really young, my dad was a maintenance guy at a Christian conference center in eastern Pennsylvania, and our family lived on the campus. Groups of people from churches in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania would come and attend retreats at this place. Once the groups departed, somebody had to walk around to all the rooms that had just been vacated, and make sure all the lights were turned off and the heat/air conditioning weren’t blasting in a vacant room. Sometimes that duty fell to my dad, and every once in awhile he’d take me along.

As a part of the maintenance staff, Dad had a key ring that was chock full of keys that opened just about anything and everything on the whole complex. It could be a master key for all the guest rooms in a given building, the key to the room in the gymnasium where they kept all the spare basketballs, the padlock to the room in the basement of the snack shack where they kept a bunch of electronics and motors, or a little key to adjust the thermostat in the meeting rooms. If you needed to open a lock anywhere on the campus, there’s a good chance my dad’s key ring had a solution.

As a kid, it was impossible to keep track of the differences between all the keys. A few of them stood out from the others; maybe some were shinier, bigger, or the head had a distinct shape or color. To me, though, most of them were indistinguishable from one another. If someone plunked me down in front of a random locked door somewhere on the campus with that key ring, it would’ve taken a good deal of time by trial and error for me to open it. Dad knew what each one did, though.

Now imagine that every Christian is a key on God’s giant key ring. There’s a door, or maybe a group of doors, that you have the ability to unlock (or lock). It’s your purpose; it’s what you were made for. You can be jealous of what other keys were built for, but it sure isn’t going to help you fulfill your role any better. You might even try to function in a lock you weren’t designed to operate, but it’s not what you were made for. Some people are dissatisfied or in denial about the lock in which they fit, and they want to choose their own lock.

Sorry Pardner, it doesn’t work that way.

There’s a lock out there for which you are the key, and you might encounter your lock during this unique time in history. The Man holding the key ring wants to use you according to His schedule, but if you’re unwilling or are too focused on a lock for which you’re not the key, you’re missing your calling. My request to you would be: work the lock you’re built for.

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Too Much of a Good Thing?

One of the first “grown up” movies I saw as a kid was “Back to the Future.” It was a movie about a high-schooler that used a crazy scientist’s time machine to travel back in time 30 years to when his parents were in high school themselves. It was my introduction to the time travel aspect of science fiction, and I thought it was pretty cool.

Two sequels followed. A couple of my friends and I all loved the trilogy, and the three of us were constantly quoting different parts of the movies to each other. We even had a “Back to the Future” night for my buddy’s birthday sleepover, where we watched all three movies in one night. A couple of years later I was a roommate with that same buddy at a summer camp where we worked. One night after lights out I recited the script of the entire first movie from memory to him.

This is an extreme (or maybe misguided) example of what an engaged mind can do when it obsesses over something. The three of us were around each other and tossed quotes back and forth so often that they became second nature to us. The things we spent time thinking about became the things most important in our relationship to one another.

In the book of Philippians, Paul tells readers to dwell on the things that are worthy of being, well, dwelled on:

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. –Philippians 4:8 (New Living Translation)

I don’t think “Back to the Future” quotes qualify, but I can see why Paul makes the point. The things you frequently think about are the things your mind is moving toward.

Now that Christmas and New Years have passed and we’re closer to getting back into the normal routine, I challenge you to “think on” the things mentioned in Philippians 4:8. As far as quiet time with God, prayer, doing Bible readings, or some other type of devotionals, if you’re not someone who regularly practices them, consider building those items into your 2020 routine. If you do them sporadically, but not on a regular basis, consider doing them more routinely.

Try doing them for 30 days in a row. The reason you’ll often hear people talking about doing something for 30 days is because that’s roughly how long it takes to develop a new habit. In other words, if you were going to make this a part of your routine for the rest of your life, the first 30 days would be the most difficult to accomplish; after that it would be habitual and would require less conscious effort to complete.

God can use you for great things. Take the first step toward embracing that calling by spending time dwelling on the things Christ taught and did. Hopefully by this time next year, you’ll be closer to/more in tune with God than you are right now.

Happy New Year!

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Christmas…Surprise?

Man, when I was a kid, the final few days before Christmas were an exciting time. We didn’t do Santa, so we had the presents sitting out under the tree for days, or even weeks, ahead of time. As Christmas got closer, the pile under the tree got bigger.

Normally I was pretty good. Sure, I’d pick up the presents and give ‘em a shake every now and then, but usually didn’t do anything too crazy. There was one year, though, where my parents headed out for the evening, leaving my sister and I home alone with all those presents under the tree.

I don’t remember what I was looking for, I think I was just excited about the opportunity to try out an idea I’d had earlier. Soon after the coast was clear, I brought out the scissors and the tape. Using one of the scissor’s blades, I carefully sliced the tape on one of the presents with my name on it. I was able to open up the wrapping paper enough to see what was hidden inside, then fold everything back up the way it was and put a new piece of tape right over the one I’d cut. Only a very careful inspection would reveal what had happened.

I went through most of my gifts this way. I learned what was waiting for me, then restored all the wrapping jobs. My sister, meanwhile, only wanted to know about one of hers. For the life of me, I can’t remember any of the things I snuck a peek at, but I remember that my little sister, with the “keys to the kingdom” that her devious older brother offered her, was perfectly content to know for sure that she was going to be receiving the animated version of “Beauty and the Beast” and didn’t care to find out about any more until it was actually the appropriate time to open them.

This time of year, with many new memories of time spent with loved ones, is generally thought of as one of the happiest seasons. But then it’s all over. The gifts are exchanged, everyone travels back home, and the decorations are all put away. There’s really nothing wrong with celebrating with the special people in your life, but it’s very important to realize that everything here in this life is temporary. Lower your expectations for how happy this world will make you.

Even something that’s bright, shiny, new, and sparkly on Christmas morning soon fades in either its actual luster or the level of interest you have in it. That’s why it’s so important for people seeking true happiness to place their hope and joy in Jesus Christ, someone whose luster will never fade.

This is my last post of the year. I hope you all enjoy special time celebrating Christ’s birth with loved ones this week. Rest up and enjoy some downtime!

Thanks for reading; I wish you all a Merry Christmas!

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Luck O’ The Ducks

When I was a kid I used to love watching cartoons. I don’t know what happened since then, but I guess somewhere along the line they decided they were going to stop making good cartoons.

One of my favorite cartoons to watch was “Duck Tales.” It featured Scrooge McDuck (of “Christmas Carol” fame), the three young duckling triplets Huey, Dewey, and Louie, and the lovable (but terrible) pilot, Launchpad McQuack.

Scrooge McDuck was a greedy guy, there’s no doubt about it. Part of the draw for a younger me was that he was always mounting expeditions to go in search of lost treasures. Off to faraway jungles, canyons, deserts, mountains, the ocean floor…no matter the danger, Scrooge McDuck’s greed drove him to adventure.

One such adventure involved catching a leprechaun. The main characters caught a leprechaun and demanded that he show them to the massive underground treasure caverns (because a pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow just ain’t enough sometimes). The leprechaun showed them to the hidden entrance, which was under a young tree. I don’t remember why they couldn’t go exploring down the tunnel right then and there, but for some reason they had to temporarily abandon their quest. Knowing that it would be extremely difficult to identify this one tree in the middle of the forest, McDuck took out a handkerchief and tied it to one of the branches of the tree. After binding the leprechaun by making him promise not to mess with the hanky or the tree, the adventurers departed.

I think it was the next day when the treasure hunters returned. The hanky and the tree were indeed untouched, but now the forest was littered with hundreds of white hankies. The leprechaun had kept his promise, but still managed to obscure the value of the makeshift marker.

Let’s switch gears for a minute. Take the perspective of Satan and the other fallen angels. You’ve had definite limits imposed on you, but you’re free to meddle with humanity in other ways. How can you divert people from the true way to God and eternal life, which is a relationship with Jesus Christ? You can’t touch that one true hanky, but you can sure hang up a lot of other ones that look enough like the original to make the real one hard to spot.

Aside from Christianity, there are a handful of major world religions on the scene, but there are an untold number of minor ones, splinter groups, minor sects, and other less popular religions. All of them are fake hankies.

In addition to using other religions, the adversary attempts to muddy the waters for actual Bible-based events. The focus of Christmas and Easter used to be Jesus’ birth and Jesus’ triumph over sin, respectively. Now it’s Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Being a Santa fan doesn’t make you a bad person, but consider this: this Christmas, are you and yours giving at least as much emphasis on the story of Jesus’ birth as you are to Santa?

There’s a lot of distraction out there, but remember the true reason for the season and the fact that the adversary has to ask permission to launch certain attacks on Christ-followers.

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat…” Luke 22:31

8Then the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered My servant Job? For there is no one on earth like him, a man who is blameless and upright, who fears God and shuns evil.”

9Satan answered the LORD, “Does Job fear God for nothing? 10Have You not placed a hedge on every side around him and his household and all that he owns? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. 11But stretch out Your hand and strike all that he has, and he will surely curse You to Your face.”

12“Very well,” said the LORD to Satan. “Everything he has is in your hands, but you must not lay a hand on the man himself.”

Then Satan went out from the presence of the LORD. Job 1:8-12

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You’re Affected…But How?

You can tell a lot about where someone’s from by the words they use and the accent they have. Do they call it “soda,” “pop,” “sodapop,” or “coke?” Is it a “lollipop” or a “sucker?” “Do they wear “tennis shoes” or “sneakers?” Is the word “y’all” a part of their vernacular?

As a kid I lived in Pennsylvania. I’m a little biased, but I don’t think I had any kind of accent as a kid. It’s a funny thing though; we had some people move to our neighborhood that came from North Dakota. There were also some grandparents nearby that had long summer visits from a family that lived in Minnesota. As I played and spent time with the kids of these Midwestern families, a funny thing happened…I started saying words the way they did.

Accent map courtesy of the Washington Post

That time spent together influenced the way I spoke. This is a pretty harmless instance of what I’m getting at, but it’s a great example of how you are influenced by your surroundings. You become like the people and attitudes that are around you.

Take a moment to stop and think about the people and attitudes that are a part of your environment. This is where you are headed. You are becoming more like them. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing depends on what kind of people make up your environment.

It’s a two-way street, though. The new neighbors from North Dakota were immersed in a new region, surrounded by people that did not have the same accent as them. For that family’s kids especially, the accent faded with time. You’re not the only one being influenced; you also possess influence over those that are part of your life. Do you exude positivity and an uplifting outlook, or do you drag people down with your presence?

It might be time to re-examine the things and people you have in your life. What kind of friends do you have? What kind of things are you doing together? Other relationships, like family or work, give you fewer options with regard to your ability to choose whether or not to interact with them. In those cases, focus instead on your ability to make a positive difference in your shared environment.

In either case, whether you can choose your associations or not, you have a choice as far as what kind of contribution you will make to your environment.


“whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” Philippians 4:8

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Hopelessly Stuck

Photo courtesy of dearlylovedmist.com

When I was probably 6 or 7 years old, a married couple built a new house across the street from us. They had moved in, but the house wasn’t totally finished yet. When you’re a little boy, new houses in the neighborhood are fun because there’s a ton of mud or dirt piles to play in.

One rainy day I was playing outside in my yard. I had my raincoat and my big rain boots, so I was all set. Our yard already had a lawn, so it didn’t really have many puddles. Since the house across the street wasn’t landscaped yet, it had all kinds of puddles and mud to go stomping through.

I knew the neighbors, and they were nice, so I crossed the street and started splashing through the grossest part of the yard. I don’t think the gutters were installed yet, so the water ran right off the roof and into the yard, making for some thick, goopy stomping. My plan was to go knock on the front door to say hi, but it was starting to be a tough slog. The mud felt like it got stickier and sticker, sucking on my boots as I tried to pull them up.

It got to the point where I couldn’t pick my feet up anymore. The rain boots were already much heavier and clunkier than the shoes I normally wore, and now it got even worse with the mud’s suction. My boots were stuck in the mud, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

I started to panic. I tried shaking them loose, but that didn’t work (it probably made it worse). I think I was afraid to pull my feet out of the boots and walk across the mud, scared that my actual feet would get swallowed by the muck. Defeated and out of ideas, I squatted down (afraid to sit, for fear of getting stuck) and started to cry.

I don’t know how long this went on, but soon the front door opened and Joyce, my neighbor, poked her head out. With a look of worried concern, she saw me in my helpless and pitiful situation, and right away got some shoes on, came close enough to grab me, and lifted me right out of the mud.

Cherished readers, this is the story of the gospel, plain and simple. I was in a mess that I couldn’t escape on my own. The difference with the gospel is that we’re all born stuck in the mess, we didn’t wander into it because we made a bad choice.

People have different reactions to being stuck like this. Some choose to just wallow and enjoy the mud as best they can. Others look at the situation and focus on it being a futile, meaningless struggle. To each and every one of us, though, a hand is extended, offering us a way out of the muck and mire. It’s not forced upon us; it is merely offered. This hand, friends, is the hand of Jesus Christ.

If you’ve come to realize that you’re stuck in the mud and would like a way out, I urge you to look into what Christ did for you. He’s gently knocking on the door of your heart. He’s not going to force the door open; He waits for you to open the door. Won’t you consider letting Him in?

It’s better than being stuck in the mire. What do you have to lose?

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How Fast Can That Skateboard Go?

When I was in early elementary school, the only kids in my neighborhood that were anywhere near my age were girls. I got pretty sick of watching them play Barbies. That’s why it was so exciting when a guy named Mario moved into the neighborhood. He was a few grades ahead of me, but he was my first neighborhood buddy that was a guy. It was great to finally do guy stuff…we would go exploring in the woods, play street hockey, build forts, get muddy, you name it.

One day Mario had an idea. He had a skateboard that he decided to modify. You have to understand that today’s skateboards looked nothing like the popular skateboards of back then. Today’s models are lightweight to make it easier to get them off the ground. Back then, the bigger and sturdier, the better. If a mechanic from that era misplaced the creeper that he or she would use for sliding under a vehicle, they could’ve used a skateboard as a substitute without much of a problem.

Mario’s idea was to take this giant skateboard and nail a big piece of plywood on top. After he did, it was big enough for us both to sit on it at the same time and ride down a hill. I’m not sure how we came up with the name, but we called it “The Beta Mobile.” We didn’t really know why, but it sounded cool, so we went with it. To test it out we took it over to the hill in front of the house where I grew up. The modern-day street in front of that house has speed bumps (probably because of the stuff we did on that hill), but back then there weren’t any. The hill had two parts; the first one was long and had a gentler slope, while the second one was shorter, but dropped pretty quickly.

In classic little-boy fashion, we didn’t look for a smaller hill. We just climbed on and didn’t really give much thought to how to slow down if we needed to. I sat in the front, and he sat behind me, bobsled style. We shoved off, and away we went.

We built up speed down the first hill, and we stopped accelerating as the hill flattened out, but then we hit the second hill. We sped up to where it felt like we were going to lift off the ground. To a kid that was accustomed to getting roped into playing house, this was awesome! I was having fun until Mario had another idea. Off to the side there was a house whose owner had paved a little portion of her yard so she could park another vehicle off the street, but in order to keep rainwater from running into her yard, the part that bordered the lawn formed into a big ridge. To Mario, this ridge looked like a nice big jump to try to hit with the Beta Mobile.

“Hit that jump!” He yelled, leaning toward it.

“Noooooo!” I yelled back, leaning the other way.

The way it worked out, I guess I was sitting in the better spot for steering, because we stayed on the road and flew right past the jump. The Beta Mobile slowed down as the road started sloping upward again, and we came to a stop, satisfied that we would be able to do mega-cool things with the Beta Mobile.

As we walked back up to the top of the hill for another run, I forgot about the jump. We decided we’d try to go a little faster this time, but this time we switched places and I was in the back. Again we shoved off and started picking up speed.

We flew down the first hill, and as we started down the second one, I remembered the jump, remembered that we had switched places, and I had a terrible thought. It was too late, though. As we drew near the jump, I leaned away from it about as hard as I could, but it didn’t matter. Mario had the better leverage for steering, and he pointed us toward the jump. We hit it going nearly full speed.

What happened next was something straight out of a Calvin & Hobbes comic. The bodies of two grade-school boys and a gigantic piece of plywood with wheels went tumbling and flipping through the air, crashing onto the lawn. As we lay motionless, moaning on the grass, the front door to the house across the street opened up, and a man in his 80s stepped outside, applauding and shouting “yaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy!”

That was the last time I got on the Beta Mobile with Mario.

As you look around for ways that you can do more with your time and energy to glorify God, you’re going to have the opportunity to partner with fellow believers. For small endeavors it probably won’t be such a big deal, but as you move on to bigger projects, be sure that you’re on the same page with your co-laborers. Talk about your vision for what you’re working on together. You might both have good intent, but if you’re “leaning in different directions,” it’s probably not going to work out the way you’re all envisioning.

Follow God’s prompting, but game it out ahead of time with your partner(s). If you don’t, you might end up in a spectacular wreck, sprawled out in a daze, but your audience might not be so enthusiastic as the one we had that day.

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Half Speed Ahead?

Definitely not me, but that’s maybe how I saw myself…

When I was a kid I rode my bike everywhere. I was all over the neighborhood, sometimes I’d go outside my neighborhood, and sometimes it felt like I went miles without being more than a few hundred yards from where I started.

One day I swung by the house of some friends of mine, but they weren’t home. Suddenly finding myself with an unexpected chunk of free time on my hands, I looked around, hoping to get an idea for what I should do next. The house had kind of a cool porch that was pretty long and narrow, and the end of it dropped off probably about a foot and a half down to their driveway. Sitting there on your bike while waiting for someone that’s not coming to answer the doorbell gives you time to come up with bad ideas.

I didn’t really have any experience doing tricks on my bike, but I thought it would be cool to ride my bike off the edge of the porch and down onto the driveway. This was probably in the late 80s or early 90s, when you started seeing more “extreme” commercials…probably for Mountain Dew or something. BMX was starting to be on TV and in movies a bit more, and those guys could do some pretty cool jumps with their bikes. My morning was wide open, and nobody was going to come out of the house and tell me not to do it. What better time than now?

I visualized it in my head a few times, but probably in slow motion, which came back to bite me in the end. “Ride down the porch, and when you come up to the edge, just keep going.” I imagined myself flying off the porch and landing perfectly on two wheels, then hitting the brakes and skidding into a cool turning stop. And in my mind, that’s when everybody in a nearby house would suddenly look out their window, come out the front door, or drive around the corner to see my amazing stunt, then call my house and tell my Mom or Dad just how cool it was to see me do it. It made sense to me, and now all I needed to do was to give it a try.

I lined up and started slowly pedaling toward the end of the porch. I was a little anxious, but excited that I was about to do something so epic! I pedaled, still slowly, and came up to the edge. Then the reality of physics and gravity taught me a mean lesson: they don’t always work the way I want them to. If the back tire of a bicycle is supported, but the front one isn’t, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what’s going to happen. My front wheel dropped out from under me, and my body got in a fight with the ground. Bloodied up a little, I looked around in every nearby window, front door, and the curve in the road to check for witnesses. Hopefully no phone calls home would be happening after this.

This trick didn’t work for the simple reason that I failed to commit. I didn’t know that it wouldn’t work if I was going slow…it would only work if I was going fast. Intentionally pedaling fast off the edge of a porch takes a certain level of commitment. If I had known that, I don’t know if I would’ve tried it, but a jump like that is only going to work if you can overcome being timid and can build up enough speed to have both wheels leave the edge at nearly the same time. I tried the trick, but because ultimately I wasn’t fully committed, I ended up getting hurt more than I would have if I were totally dedicated to doing it.

If you feel God nudging you toward a certain path, being partially committed might only get you hurt. Pull out all the stops, jump in with both feet, use up the full nine yards, and any other cliché that it takes to convince you to give everything you’ve got to the effort you know He wants you to pursue. Partial effort can easily translate to complete failure.

If you’re coming off a failure, don’t let that stop you from trying again. A lot of times it’s easy to give a half-hearted effort, and then when you fail, you point to that failure and say “see what happened last time? I’m not trying that again!” That’s failing on purpose.

You’ve got the benefit of experience now, and hopefully you learned something about what to do differently this time. If it’s something you’re supposed to do, give it another shot. As long as it’s something God’s pushing you to do, I like your chances of success.