My "Million Little Pieces"

God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before him.
When I got my act together, he gave me a fresh start.
Now I'm alert to his ways; I don't take God for granted.
Everyday I review the ways he works; I try not to miss a trick.
I feel put back together, and I now I'm watching my step.
God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart
to his eyes.
Psalm 18:20-24

Those are the facts of my life--not 'inspired by' or 'based on.' The recent news is flooded with the controversy swirling around Frey's book and whether it's "all true" or just "mostly true." There are several positions to take on the issue. I think a lot of it is merely semantical. Whether his book was intended for the entertainment or inspritation of its reader, or whether his work looses quality and credibility because of the supposed misleading notion of fact are philosophical arguments to me. (Might some of our accepted works of history from which we educate really belong on the "fiction" shelf?)
Regardless of any or all of these valid questions, a person's life story really isn't autobiographical anyway. Mine certainly isn't. There is a required boldness, sometimes desperate, in allowing one's life to 'be read.' Who can read you like a book? Has anyone? When examining the pages of your life, would the reader be inspired or entertained, motivated or depressed, left wondering or wanting more?

Shhhhhh . . .

The People Whisperer
Recently a movie was released starring Robert Redford whose character had an uncanny ability to communicate with troubled horses. The title of the movie, and the description of Redford’s character, is The Horse Whisperer. By carefully drawing near to the troubled animal and softly speaking into its ear, Redford’s character was able to break through whatever resistance the horse had previously exhibited to other trainers. With gentle persuasion and by speaking its ‘language,’ previously troublesome animals were brought back to service.
I am not a horse expert by any measure. Anyone who knows me is aware of my general indifference, to put it nicely, to animals of all types. However, I’ve seen enough of the Discovery Channel and other educational programming on cable TV to ascertain that without "breaking" a horse’s spirit, it is a fairly useless animal. Without the learned ability to yield to its master’s commands, no horse can really serve a practical use on a farm or in some other business. Its wildness prevents harnessing, and without harnessing, no duty can be attached to these enormously strong animals.
Billy Graham, arguably the world’s greatest evangelist, is remarkable for his singular focus and longevity in his chosen vocation. For decades Billy has only ever done one thing: preach. Unwilling to branch off and diversify his efforts into a myriad of other endeavors, with very little exception, Billy Graham has steadily pursued one goal: to reach people with the Gospel of Christ. Curious to note that what led Billy his work was not some surrealistic religious experience or a sign seen in a dream. Billy simply allowed his will to be yielded in faith to someone else’s. When asked for the defining moment in his choice to pursue evangelism, Billy stated, "Most of us don’t get epiphanies. We just get whispers." (Emphasis mine) Someone had persuaded Billy Graham, by speaking softly into his ear, to allow his spirit to be broken: for a greater cause and in service to his Master.
I know that the times in my life when all seemed terribly wrong and nothing I did seem to work were the times when I listened to no one except myself. I wasn’t willing to stop and ask for help. I was unabatedly acting and unyieldingly proceeding through my life without caution or counsel. I was moving too fast to notice whether anyone had come along side me and too noisily to be able to discern what someone may have tried to tell me. Lately, any success I’ve experienced is attributed to my willingness to slow down, to listen, and to hear as well. When I can somehow yield to the prevailing wisdom and advice of the still, small voice, wait until I feel the gentle hand on my shoulder nudging me forward, and assume my humble place of brokenness: great things happen. I realize that my chances of winning are dependent upon my ability to lose—lose the struggle for independence, lose the battle of wills, and most importantly, lose the earplugs.

Bigger than life

Here's a little food for thought:
1.) What are you doing right now with your time, energy, and talent that will outlive you? Or, what are you doing that will last forever? Can anything last forever? Parenting aside, what's really worth it?
2.) Is legacy--specifically an eternal one--possible?
3.) What is the most high-stakes venture you can think of? Why?



Note: When I posted this orginally, I intended no disrespect to the importance of child-rearing. I simply wanted to avoid what I anticipated as a common answer.

Happy New Year

My friend asked me to update this blog with something more positive. I have no New Year's resolutions. (There I go using the word "no" right away; it's not looking good for Team Positive.) I have only one major resolution: ask me in person, and I'll be glad to tell you about it. My personal goals are my personal goals regardless of the calendar. I don't change them or create new ones based on the month. I'd like to think I've grown and matured since last January. So much has happened to me since then.
This year might be pretty interesting. I think by next January I'll have completed at least 20 hours of college course work and transitioned out of my current job. I don't know what else might pop up, though. Lisa is no longer an air traffic controller. That's a big change for her having done that for 16 years. Additionally, new opportunities for us to get involved in non-profit work (which is what we really want to be doing) appear certain. So, I feel I do have a fairly positive outlook for this year. Do I want to be thinner, drive the speed limit, eat better, and exercise more? Sure I do, but I don't want to set a bunch of lofty goals now only to fail later. I think the best change happens slowly--sometimes without our being aware of its taking place.
January 2007? It seems like a long way off now. I know that on January 1, 2007, I'll be amazed at how quickly time passed. I don't want to miss a thing between now and then. Maybe on 1/1/07 I'll notice my stomach is smaller, my hair is thinner, I don't eat pizza nearly as much, the Wolverines are going to the BCS Championship Game, my car is still running, and I haven't flunked out of school. Maybe I'll realize I'm nicer, don't swear as often, treat dogs better, babysit more, and drink less soda. These, and other extremely important changes, may happen slowly over the course of this year.
The point is I'm in such a hurry most of the time that I probably wouldn't notice these modifications ocurring even if they were. We are all in a giant hurry. (Been on I-88 lately? Even in a construction zone?) For what? To reach next January? To start the "well, I didn't stick with any of my resolutions, again, so why don't I try to come up with some new ones, or the same ones, but this time I'll try really hard not to forget about them two weeks after I resolve to completely change my life in one year or less" process all over? Okay, I lied. I'll pick one, in addition to the one aforementioned, standing resolution, resolution this year: to slow down. To slow down and notice the things in life that matter. To start to move over and do 55mph, or less. To notice my wife and friends and the changes in their lives that matter. To stop caring how close I was to making that red light. To go an entire football season and not just don't blame, but don't even mention, the ref's. See, this resolution would probably take care of all the others previously mentioned: 'be nicer, not swearing, babysitting more, etc. However, I may never like dogs. In fact, resolving to really slow down may even help my Resolution #1 (aka The Main Thing). Ask me some time; I'd love to tell you what it is.
Have a happy New Year. Did you notice how positive I just was? See? I'm changing already . . .