Over the last few weeks, I’ve been regarded a heretic in two very different but very important parts of my life: my faith and my career. I was struck that my response to both controversies was similar and that the lessons I learned were the same.
It’s exciting to meet people with passion. We can all enjoy conversations about what inspires each other, and we should. That requires that we act on those passions, that we create those stories, that we pursue our dreams.
Kendall embraced this intentional lifestyle instead of the American dream. He bought into the concept of eternity and brought the weight of it into daily practice. He jumped into a lasting legacy with both feet. He walked a path so many regret not taking. He showed us how to do this life thing, even though he was given less time to do it.
The story I’ll remember most won’t be the one on the screen. It’ll be the one God wrote and directed behind the scenes. A story of rescue, a tale of sovereignty.
That’s the nature of sports discussions now—the nature of all discussions. For some reason, we as a culture have to reduce the things we love to either or. Popularity and support have to be a zero-sum propositions, where the light can only shine in one direction.
Crystal knew I needed to be reminded of my purpose. She knew I had let this winter be filled with self-doubt, uncertainty, and discontent. She had seen me dreaming of more
There’s not a single verse in the Bible that says church has to be boring, that it has to be attended in investment banker attire, that worship can be expressed only in liturgical ways. When Jesus healed people or raised their loved ones from the dead, how do you think those beneficiaries responded? If lives are being utterly changed in a church, why would we expect a different response?
One of the sayings we have on the parking team goes back to my driver ed instructor. “There are no accidents—only collisions.” I don’t think it was an accident that all of these situations intersected as they did. I prefer to think God planned a collision with her that night.
It’s not numbness. I’ve just moved on—like I do on the highway after I pray for the family involved in the wreck I just passed. It was such work to “hold this trip loosely with open hands” that I barely felt it eventually leave my hands.
13 Hours will not be go on my list of favorite movies. As with the military movies that have preceded it, I hope I never have to watch it again. It is, however, one of the most important movies I’ve ever seen. I’m grateful someone made it—and that they made it indelible.
I don’t need a lottery jackpot to pursue those goals. Chances are, you don’t need a Powerball payout to move toward your ideal vocation, either. Sure, we might have to sacrifice more, save more, or be more creative with our time, talent, and treasure in order to accomplish our grandest dreams. We might need to let go of some relationships, status, or security.
That’s actually why we were given our unique gifts, talents, and contexts that Steve mentioned. We’re supposed to leverage them for the greater good, the spiritual abundance of others. We are assigned to be conduits through which God’s character traits flow into the lives we touch. As we do that, how we measure success will change.
Just as the first step in financial order is knowing where your money currently goes, personal analytics can give you a baseline for future comparison. Just as a food journal can alert you to the difference between your perception and your reality in your diet, a personal activity tracker can separate your intentions from your behavior. While there’s no cure-all to make your resolutions happen, a points system can at least give you actionable insight.
Rather than blame social media for invading the holidays again this year, harness it for wonderful Christmas memories.
That week of contrast for me was a wakeup call, a reminder to keep working on my game while playing the game. It was healthy for me to realize talent is chasing me, that the playing field might be more level than ever, that I can’t assume auction companies will continue to send me work.
Local media should still celebrate local business culture. Municipalities should still offer financial and infrastructural incentives to businesses of all sizes—encouraging both local startups and organizations that are expanding or relocating. All of us who love our community should market the heck out of where we live and why we love it. We just need to save the charity for nonprofits and give our neighbors reasons why shopping local or shopping small is the no-brainer option that’s best for them.
Over the years, I’ve learned that one of the marks of a healthy culture is its exports to others. So, retention cannot be the primary benchmark by which I’ll measure buy-in for the rest of my promotional career. That said, I will never stop being proud of the moment when a raw, untrained kid in khaki corduroys asked, “Who’s with me!?” and everyone else in the room answered, “I am.”
Then, I started thinking about the auction industry I serve. I don’t have enough fingers to count the times a client has tried a project I’ve wondered if they should’ve declined. Those are the times when I get this phone call or email: “Hey, I’ve got this auction. I’ve never sold one of these before. How would you market it?” They’re hoping I’ve helped another auction company sell something similar.
I hope that wonder leads you where it leads me. If it doesn’t, I’d really love to know where it does lead you and how it inspires you.
Over the last three years, a series of things in which I’ve taken pride have become embarrassments.
For a lot of guys I meet in church settings, though, sex has been all but taken off the table by their wives—some going months or even years between sexual encounters. That breaks my heart. It also makes me mad that Satan wins. He wants to thwart fulfilling, married sex so that spouses are tempted to look to other (unholy) places to get their needs met. Since God uses marriage as a picture of his relationship with us, evil wants rejected, dejected husbands and distant, unconnected wives.
I love being in the sky. I’ve got an adventure résumé filled with aerial adrenaline rushes, including jumping out of planes. So, it’s a bit ironic that I get nervous on airplanes during turbulence. Sometimes, straight out scared. I use the free drink napkins to dry my hands on multiple flights per year.
What I knew is that I had a story. And, really, the chase of a story—along with some solitude for contemplation—was why I had traveled as far and as hard as I had. I smirked in acceptance. It was an altered mission accomplished.
This isn’t an exhaustive list, any more than it’s an easy one. These suggestions can get you in the right headspace, though, which will help all of you build your own list.
But I just promised him what he wanted and let the 50-something smirkers play through. Then Tim and I got up and out-drove them.