In the Zone

"I'm sorry." That one phrase has a variety of meanings depending on the context. When someone dies, we say "I'm sorry."  In that instance, we expressing our remorse and identify with another person's grief and loss. When someone speaks and we can't hear, we may say "I'm sorry?"  In that case, we want them to repeat what they just said. Yet, the words "I'm sorry" are meant as a way of showing our remorse at our behavior or language.  It's about seeking forgiveness and righting wrongs. Those two words, in such instances, are so meaningful.  When I say "I'm sorry," I want to reconcile the relationship I've have hurt by my comments or my actions.  I don't want there to be anger or bitterness.  I simply want to restore our community together. We use "I'm sorry" so often that many times it loses its meaning.  If we are always "sorry," then we never truly are.  Words

Don't worry, be happy. Yes, I might be showing my age, but when I was younger, this song was popular.  Bobby McFerrin, the song's writer and performer, had a wide and varying career.  However, he will forever be remembered for that song. Why? Because, deep down, as Americans and as human beings, we just want to be happy. Don't believe me?  Look at any commercial on television.  All of them have the exact same message:  buying this product will make your happier.  This new car is what you need to be happy.  You need a new kitchen appliance to make you happy.  You're pet needs a new toy so he (and conversely you) can be happy. Happy sells.  No one wants to be unhappy.  We have terms for people like that.  We call them "party poopers." Yet, Jesus tells us that pursuing happiness - despite what commercials, businesses and culture tell you - is not the point of life.  He clearly states in Matthew 5:6 that we should "hunger and thirst for righteou

I've always been stubborn.  Just ask my wife. None more so then when I learned to ride a bike.  I only had one younger brother, but I lived very close to my older cousin.  I got his hand-me-downs for clothes.  I envied his older stuff.  I even tried to hang out with him and his older friends.  In this case, that was my undoing. I got my first real bike (not a big-wheel) and, of course, it included training wheels.  My cousin and his friends had all mastered the art of bike-riding.  No training wheels attached for these guys.  So, a couple of times I went riding with them.  All they did was make fun of my training wheels, and I didn't like it. After a couple of these adventures, I go to my dad and ask for the wheels to be removed.  Being a dad and being smarter than his snot-nosed punk kid who thought he knew everything, he refused.  I didn't take no for an answer.  I declared I would not ride the bike again until the training wheels were removed. My dad used thi

I've been very fortunate in life.  I've never really had to face death. Both of my parents are alive.  My grandparents are still with us.  Even my aunts and uncles are all around.  I never attended a funeral until I was in college when my great-grandmother passed away in her 90s.  I loved her, but we weren't super close. The only time I ever experienced death was when we had to put my dog, Dude, down.  He was an old dog.  He lived a full life.  I owned him for 16 years.  When we took him to the vet that day, I broke down several times.  We went on a cathartic shopping spree we couldn't afford to mask the pain. It was a difficult few days. I mourned for him. Mourning is different for everybody.  Everyone grieves in their own ways.  Mourning, though, is not exclusive to pets, people and loved ones.  We mourn when we lose something we love.  Some people mourn when their favorite player retires.  Others mourn the completion of their senior year of high school.

Sometimes you never really know how poor you are. When I was a child, I remember eating peanut and butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.  I didn't think anything of it.  I just thought it was cool eating PB&Js for dinner. What I didn't know was at the time we didn't have any other food.  We couldn't afford it. While Timmy down the street enjoyed roast and carrots, we were munching on peanut butter, jelly and bread.  My mom didn't even eat dinner, just to make sure there was enough food to last the week. Now, we were never destitute.  I didn't go homeless.  We had television and telephones and electricity.  However, at the time, I didn't know how poor we really were.  My parents did a good job of protecting us from that knowledge. Jesus asks us to examine our own depravity in Matthew 5:3.  The first beatitude we encounter is "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." If you are poor, you are without reso

Today is a guest blog from author Rick Lawrence.  He's written a new book entitled Shewd .  I'm reading it now and will soon have a review for you to consider.  Learning From Serpents A Guest Post About Shrewd:Daring to Obey the Startling Command of Jesus -By Rick Lawrence Five-or-so years ago I was locked in what felt like an all-out war over a dream that was in danger of dying, because a man who was much shrewder than me was bent on stopping it. One day, in my grief and fear and anger over what was about to happen, I felt God sort of “sit me down” and challenge me—it was clear that my “frontal” way of dealing with this situation was not going to work, and He was asking me if I was going to have the courage to move more shrewdly. In the nicey-nice Christian culture that is promoted and perpetuated in most churches, shrewdness is anathema—worse, it’s entirely off the radar as a spiritual practice. So, in an uncharacteristic spirit of desperation, I asked Go