At some point last autumn, I realized that my shorts were getting in the way. My dysfunctional, insecure psyche was liking the attention my shorts got me. Jacked—I know. When passing greetings revolved around my shorts, they couldn’t be about our guests or about Jesus.
So, how are you adapting your business model to stay relevant to culture?
Hustle is the one thing I can control, the attribute I should be able to consistently offer my team mates.
Jesus left heaven to come to where we are. He didn’t rain post-dated business cards on us. He didn’t ask us to weed through insider jargon to understand he wants us more than he wants justice for our sin. The choice he offers is essentially an ultimatum, but he wants *so much* for us to reciprocate his movement toward us.
Listen to needs, themes, trends. And say something more than, “I’ve got something I want to sell you.”
“God left me here for a reason,” I inserted later into the indelible conversation.
In the fourteen years since English 101, I have discovered my personal voice, the joy in the struggle of the craft, and the wrestling mat where I make sense of the world.
It’s just interesting to me where I and other people draw our differing lines and how those lines seem to sprout into moral boundaries.
Capitalism allows supply and demand to set our prices. But efficiency allows us to set our wages.
I want to chase the God who instantaneously spoke undiscoverable galaxies into being, shrugged his figurative shoulders, and documented it for an eternity of spectators with just, “He made the stars also.”
Somewhere amidst the Hawaiian shirts and bridge-playing fogeys, French-fried buffets and almost-innumerable hand sanitizer dispensers, Crystal and I surrendered to tourism.
I had not challenged myself as I’ve grown the reputation of doing, and we all knew it.
“I was coming to Monterey to see my brother. That’s what I had told everybody.”
There’s something about the pursuit in a safe environment that I find constantly new and oddly addicting.
Today, one of my clients wished me a weekend free of injury, as “me and the boys” tackle the Gauley River marathon: 26+ miles of whitewater with 100 classed rapids, a handful of which are class V or V+. I … Continued
I’m going to stay up here and talk to God until the mosquitos chase me home.
Once you know who you are and embrace it, you’re better equipped to pursue your piece of the readership pie.
And the one morning all this seems to come together, I’m an unwilling participant.
I’m embracing my Memphis and trying to make it as simple as possible.
The best distance to affect spiritual formation in another is three feet or less.
As I’m letting go of my OCD, checklist faith, I’m growing in my confidence that the Christian life does trump the alternative—and not just for the post-death part.
So, as with a company, we assume that spiritual success is at the top of the ladder. It’s not.
Fans are used to business in the free agency era. We’re used to fungible heroes and shrinking windows of championship opportunity.
With the new dynamics of communication comes new definitions of the relationships that develop on Facebook. I’m just bold enough to categorize them. Ironically, we are probably many or all of these to different members on our friends list
That shouldn’t surprise us: that’s how God designed it to work.