In the Zone

My freshman year of college looked bright. As the second semester drew to a close, I started to feel pretty comfortable with myself.  I had a steady girlfriend, a solid car, good grades and a decent job.  I was also far from where God wanted me to be.  I became protective of my possessions.  I took security in my relationships.  I enjoyed the money of my job.  I felt arrogance at my good grades.  Despite being active in campus ministry, I was far from the path God wanted me on.  I acknowledged him, but I certainly wasn't obeying him. God needed to get my attention, and he did. In the span of a few months, I flunked my Calculus class.  It was the first (and only) time I had ever failed.  Then, someone rear-ended my car on the interstate.  It was totaled.  That job I loved?  Yeah, I got fired at the start of the summer.  By the end of summer, I broke it off with my girlfriend. As I started my sophomore year, I felt pretty low.  I had no job, no girlfriend, a second-rate car

President Harry Truman faced a daunting decision. In August 1945, the U. S. government had developed the atomic bomb.  This new weapon of mass destruction could bring a swift end to the Second World War, but at the cost of utter devastation.  On the other hand, U. S. forces could begin a land invasion of the Japanese mainland.  Only three beaches were optimal for landing, which the Japanese knew and fortified.  The kamikaze tactics of Japanese pilots would surely translate to ground soldiers defending their homeland.  Projected American casualties numbered 1 million.  Japanese casualties projected at 2 million.  The U. S. could take the mainland, but at great cost. Truman didn't know if the American public could stomach such losses after just recently defeating Germany.  The European victory took four years and millions of lives.  Japan sensed this hesitancy and prepared to make any invasion as bloody as possible. With that information, Truman decided to make a swift end to

A few years ago, I came upon this picture: It's from a children's devotional we read each night as a family.  The picture is an artist's illustration of the disciples.  As soon as I saw it, I chuckled immediately. Look closely, all the disciples look like great guys.  They have bright faces, big smiles and clear complexions.  They look like your friends and buddies and just all around great guys. Well, all except one.  Look at the photo closely.  All the disciples look like fun-loving guys except for Judas.  (I circled him so you could see it clearly.)  He looks like a shady character, with a sinister smile, an angular beard, shifty eyes and a dangerous-look about him.  In the illustration, he is clearly the odd-man-out. I laugh because this illustration must be grossly exaggerated. If Judas really looked sinister compared to the fun-loving disciples, he would have stuck out.  Someone would have taken notice and warned the others. No one did. In fact, the discip

You see that picture over there? I despise that machine. While on a family vacation before my senior year of high school, I walked into an arcade in Panama City Beach, Fl.  The quarter machine sat front and center, baiting me to try for a small fortune in quarters. The object of the game is to plop in your quarter and watch it land.  When enough quarters pile up, the conveyor belt, which constantly moves back and forth, will overload, sending quarters into the prize bin.  It's a fortune to be had for just 25 cents. I stopped and pondered.  The quarters sat perched on the edge of the ledge.  Just a quarter or two would turn the tide.  I could drop in 50 cents and leave with several dollars.  I reached into my pocket, found a quarter, shoved it into the slot, and the quarter machine won. You see, one quarter didn't do it.  Neither did two.  I tried three.   Then four.  I found the coin exchange and submitted dollar after dollar to win this fortune.  Every once in a whil