A Tail Of Two Kitties-a NEW children's book by Curt Harding-Author, Publicist, Media Trainer, Copy Writer

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

The other day I was scrolling through the daily onslaught of messages...Twitter, Facebook, email...when one sentence stood out. It simply said: Blogging about God is not the same as learning about Him. I stopped in my tracks. I felt a hot flow of conviction run through me. I tried to wave it off. I lo

If The Cape Fits....

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

You can't control the length of your life, however you can control it's depth!

Target

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

I was talking to one of our interns the other day when out of nowhere she blurted out that she's 22 years old. I grabbed my walker and slowly shuffled back to my desk. Then my mind began to spin. I thought back to my twenties and thirties and I began feeling a bit regretful over one big thing: I lacked a goal. I never focused on a target. On particularily down days, I almost find myself mourning this as a supreme failure; a series of opportunities lost. I think if I had focused more on a target then, things would be better now. What would be possible for you if you were to listen to your own restless heart? What bold and defiant thing might you achieve if you could hear the longing of your own heart? Anything. Yes, anything is possible, the unthinkable becomes thinkable from within our restless hearts. What will you do today to calm your restless heart? The Young Archer A young archer spent years honing his skills, with the hopes of earning a medal at the annual festival in the countryside. His every spare moment went into practice, and the collection of the finest wood and materials for his bow, and even into the study and forecasting of the wind. Finally, he was ready to make the journey to the faraway competition. When we was three days out, he began to see signs that he was on the right road. Occasionally, he’d find a target painted on a tree, with an arrow protruding from the middle. Seeing the opportunity to keep his skills fresh, he fired a few shots into the center of those targets and moved along. Two days away, he started seeing more of the trees with the arrows sticking out of the bulls eyes. “My competitors appear to be skilled and consistent. I hope to be worthy,” he muttered to himself. The young archer took a few more practice shots and continued his long ride. The next day, and one day before his arrival for the contest, he came upon a farmhouse in a meadow. The farmhouse was covered in targets, as was the neighboring barn. Every target was decorated with a single arrow sticking out of the middle. Knowing that he would have no chance against such an opponent, he swallowed his pride and decided to learn what he could from this master. He knocked on the door, and a much older man answered. “Can you please show me how you are able to perform such feats?” the young man asked. “Sure,” replied the old farmer. Then the old man picked up a wretched old bow, and a single arrow that could not in any way be considered straight. “Follow me.” The old man walked into the clearing, and faced the side of the barn. The young archer was taking mental notes, wanting to see how the old man tempered his breathing and his tremors; if there was some technique to better gauge the distance. The young man was about to ask a question about hesitation and focus when the old farmer quickly pulled back the string and fired the arrow straight into the broad side of the barn. He then walked to the wall, reached through a window to grab a small can of paint, and proceeded to draw circles around the arrow on the wall.

Solid Ground

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

The word of God hidden in the heart is a stubborn voice to suppress. ~Billy Graham

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

A man never stands as tall as when he kneels to help a child.~The Knights of Pythagoras

Laughter Soaked Walls

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

"Years of laughter have soaked the walls of my home." - Steve Johnson I imagine what it must sound like from just outside our front door. The priceless girly-giggles when the tickle monster rears his goofy head. The ear-piercing screams and the stomping of little feet as Emily and Megan dance to the blaring sounds of Hannah Montana; two precious girls enjoying their innocent childhoods. Their worlds are filled with fairy tales, butterflies, and dollhouses — just as it should be. Walls soaked in laughter. Last spring my wife and I decided to brighten up the cathedral-style entry way of our house. Appropriately we chose a color called “Fools Gold.” Out went the bland, beige walls. In came a spectacular splash of brilliance. In the hallway leading to the girl’s room, Polly entertained the kids by painting a big yellow smiley face over the beige as they looked on, busting out in high-pitch laughter. Everyone knew that in just a matter of minutes a fresh coat of gold would cover the entire wall and Smiley would be no more. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. When the hallway was completely covered and the paint had dried, I took a step back and admired our work. Then I noticed it; if you look real closely you can still see the outline of that huge smiley face. Two coats of paint didn’t completely cover it! At first I was upset because the job is not perfectly finished. “I’ll have to sand that whole area and start over,” I said, clearly annoyed. But after reading Steve’s Facebook, I have a new perspective. Maybe the job is actually quite perfectly done. Perhaps a smiley face is exactly what should be there. Maybe it’s a perfect symbol of walls soaked in laughter. What’s going on inside your walls? Remember that trouble is always lurking just outside the door. Fear and uncertainty are constantly banging to get inside. But the welcome mat doesn’t have to be out for the world’s nonsense. It’s up to you whether or not to let it in. I choose to let it wait. I’ll deal with the outside when I have to. No matter what I fall short on in life, no matter how many times I try and fail, there’s one thing I know for sure; my home is filled with peace, love, and fun…and the walls are never thirsty.

Monsters

admin — Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000

"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win." — Stephen King

About Curt

admin — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 20:10:41 +0000

After more than a decade as an award-winning reporter, anchor, and producer in radio and television news, Curt, his wife Polly, and their twin daughters moved from their home state of Michigan to Nashville, Tennessee. The author of the children's book, A Tail of Two Kitties, Curt has worked with gifted talents like Bill Cosby, Dave Ramsey, William J. Bennett, Judge Andrew P. Napolitano, George Foreman, Denise Jackson, wife of country music legend Alan Jackson, and many more. Curt's clients have received coverage in top publications, including USA Today, The New York Times, The Dallas Morning News, The Chicago Tribune, The Wall Street Journal, the Los Angeles Times, and The New York Post. You’ve probably read about his authors in some of the nation’s most widely read magazines, including Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report, People, Publishers Weekly, Money, Entertainment Weekly, Essence, and BusinessWeek. Curt regularly books authors and entertainers on radio and television shows, including Oprah, 60 Minutes, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Fox and Friends, Glenn Beck, The Sean Hannity Show, ESPN Radio, The 700 Club, MSNBC, and many others. Why pay for thousands of dollars for a huge PR firm? Talk to Curt today about what he can do for you. Contact: email: curtiscommunications@comcast.net phone: 615.939.1304 twitter: @curtharding

curtgirlies

admin — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 22:21:23 +0000

FALLEN "HEROES" ARE WE REALLY SURPRISED?

admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 01:10:41 +0000

The lead story of the week and no doubt the story of spring training is that New York Yankee baseball star Alex Rodriquez used steroids and (gasp) lied about it. This just days after Olympic star Michael Phelps admitted that was, in fact, him toking on a bong in a photograph that appeared in the News of the World rag. These types of stories on one scale or another only highlight a few things that are wrong with us as people. First, our hero worship for celebrities and sports figures has become laughable. Why do we expect that people who are given great attention (and enormous bank) because of their talent, beauty, or position are somehow immune to the human condition? Second, who among us feels confident enough to throw the first stone? I've heard the high-and-mighty at the water cooler; "A-Fraud. I hope they strip him of his Hall of Fame credentials!" "I can't wait to see him booed all over the country." "He cheated us!" Really? Not me. I still enjoyed my day out at the park with my friends. The sun was still out. The hotdog was still in my left hand and the beer (warm and flat) was in my right. I still enjoyed great conversations and years later I can still recall some fantastic memories. I don't know any of the guys in uniform down there. My hope is that they're all faithful to their wives, use their money to help the less fortunate, don't use drugs, have a deep faith in Christ and yes, are clean of all impurities. The fact that they're human is not a revelation to me and I am not so pure that I feel the need to go collect rocks to punish them for their sins. Actors, singers, athletes, and pseudo-celebrities, I love what you do. I enjoy when you're on stage, on the screen, and on the field, but guess what? I know that you and I share some of the same fears. I know that you often feel insecure - that you’re not as good as people think you are. I know that you worry about the future. I know that you're searching for the same peace we all are. Here's a huge hint; you won't find it in fame. Ask Elvis, John Belushi, Heath Ledger, Kurt Cobain, or Chris Farley. Rather than reveling in another person's torment (famous or otherwise), why don't we instead look in the mirror and ask ourselves if we like what we see. If the answer is no it's not a capital crime. We should constantly be under construction anyway so get to work! In the meantime, go easy on the famous. Just because they can hit the high note or the baseball, they're just like you and me - human, a perfect creation that more often than not makes imperfect choices.

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TURN UP THE HEAT ON THE MEDIA

admin — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 05:39:52 +0000

Recently the CEO of the company I work for took a sabbatical from the media. Over the course of a few weeks, he rarely turned on the TV or radio in an effort to shut off the negative noise. As a result, he says he actually felt more positive and happier. When he twittered about this I thought to myself; well that's kind of silly. We have real problems in this world. What good can possibly come from being uninformed? We may not always like what we see and hear, but journalists are only reporting what is happening. Right? As a former television news reporter, producer, and recovering news junkie I simply could not understand his rationale. I have since tried it - if only for a few days. As a result I cannot tell you much about the "Octo-mom," what pork and promises remain in the stimulus package, or where the Israeli election stands. But today I ended my self-imposed exile and I can tell you, after clicking on the USA Today web site, what is causing the devastating wildfires in Australia - you guessed it; Global Warming. Or is it? The headline is pretty clear: Future shock: Warming world to fan more Australian wildfires. But then not two sentences later it says: Global warming cannot be blamed for starting the hundreds of recent fires — tens of thousands of such blazes erupt across Australia every fire season, from October to March — but the effects of climate change exacerbated their ferocity. Um, which is it? Are we burning up or not? As if that wasn't enough, my Newsweek arrived in the mail yesterday -its headline declares "We're All Socialtists Now." This from the magazine that placed Barack Obama on the cover 14 times and - it can be argued - was at least in part culpable in getting him elected. I guess the honeymoon's over. One of the reasons I decided to leave "the biz" is because I often found myself lost when it came to planning fear. Imagine, if you will, a small office or a conference room filled from top to bottom with good, intelligent, well-intentioned people planning what to report as news to the public. They go around the room asking reporters, producers, assignment managers, and photojournalists what ideas they have. What's the word on the street? What's channel 5 reporting? What's the paper got? As a result, the "fluff" pieces (unless it involves a pilot turning a river into a runway) are thrown to the second half hour or worse, to Saturday morning. Meanwhile, the "hard" news makes tonight's lead...especially if it involves murder, sex, or corruption - especially if it involves the most powerful of human emotions; fear. I've been close enough to big-time media to decide that it's not malicious. Most people in journalism genuinely feel like what they do each day helps people. Visit Columbia University in New York and ask the young journalism students why they are there and they'll tell you; Because I want to make a difference. Never mind that your primary job as a journalist is to report facts - at all angles. If by doing that you "make a difference" then fine but that should be secondary. So my advice is try it. Shut out the press for a few days. Read a book. Listen to a download. Crank the i-tunes. When you get back I guarantee you our economy will still be in shambles, people will still be criticizing the president, and climate change will still be happening - much to the chagrin of firefighters everywhere.

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ernie-harwell

admin — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 17:27:35 +0000

BOYS OF SUMMER ARE BACK

admin — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 00:16:21 +0000

This weekend spring training begins in ball parks all over the warm parts of the country. It is the official beginning of the baseball season. But it is so much more than that. It is a season when hope springs up like a tulip bulb awakened from its long winter's nap, stretching toward the heavens with the full promise of blooming anew. It is a time when a man feels like a boy again. I am blessed to have a dad who realizes how great baseball is. When I was a kid, he would spring the surprise of the summer on the family announcing that we were all going to Tiger Stadium in Detroit for a game. The feeling as I emerged from the dark tunnel of that ancient stadium, in full view of the bright blue sky and the beautiful green grass is indelibly etched in my mind. Tiger greats of that era included Mark "The Bird" Fidrych, Willie Horton, Mickey Stanley, and young stars-in-the-making Alan Trammell, Lou Whittaker, and Lance Parrish. I was nine or ten at the time and although I realized what I was experiencing was different and special; I had no idea that it was something that would one day come to mean so much to me. As I grew older I went to the park as often as possible. In the summer of 1984, the year the Tigers won the World Series, I felt like the corner of Michigan and Trumbull was my home. Through the years I saw it all; great victories, devastating defeats, night games, day games, double-headers, games played in every kind of weather imaginable. When I wasn't at the game, the radio next to my bed was always tuned to WSGW - the golden voice of Ernie Harwell and the unmistakable baritones of Paul Carey describing each game in beautiful detail. The old stadium closed down September 27, 1999 and I was there, down on the field covering the historical event as a radio reporter for WSGW. I interviewed Ernie and my favorite player Alan Trammell. Following the game, an emotional ceremony with past and present Tigers greats was held to mark the occasion. Afterwards, I called my dad from the road to thank him. I choked back tears as I told him that it was because of him that I came to love the game and the old park so much. I would never again spend a muggy summer night at Tiger Stadium. A piece of my childhood was gone. There's a great scene in the Billy Crystal movie "City Slickers." A few guys are trying to explain to the one woman in the group why baseball means so much to them. Daniel Stern's character, Phil explains "I guess it is childish. But when I was about 18 and my dad and I couldn't communicate about anything at all, we could still talk about baseball. Now that - that was real." I no longer have Tiger Stadium, but I still have my dad and I have two kids of my own to make new memories with. God is good. So welcome spring. Welcome baseball. Welcome to the promise of great blessings in this new season of hope. Now, play ball and GO TIGERS!

Who Was Dred Scott?

admin — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 23:33:30 +0000

FEBRUARY IS BLACK HISTORY MONTH

Perhaps I was asleep, or just too busy flirting with the cute girl in my class while one of the most celebrated cases in American history was being taught. It's more likely however that Dred Scott was never a part of my school's curriculum at all and that is a shame. From 1848 to 1857, Dred Scott was at the center of legal and political turmoil. He was born into slavery to Peter Blow, who owned a vast 860 acre farm in Virginia. Through the years, Scott moved with Blow from Virginia to Alabama and from Alabama to St. Louis, Missouri. Eventually Scott was sold to Dr. John Emerson in 1833. Ten years later, Dr. Emerson died. After an unsuccessful attempt to purchase freedom for himself and his wife Harriet for $300 from Emerson's wife Irene, the Scotts took the case to Missouri state court, seeking their legal freedom. Two trials later in 1850, the St. Louis Circuit Court declared Scott and his family free. Irene Emerson appealed to the Missouri Supreme Court, and in 1852, the Supreme Court reversed the lower court's decision, sending Dred Scott back to slavery. Scott pressed on, eventually appealing the case to the United States Supreme Court; Dred Scott v. Sandford case of 1857. Astonishingly in a 7-2 decision, the high court ruled that since blacks were not considered citizens under the Constitution, Dred Scott could not sue in federal court. It's hard to imagine, but what the Supreme Court was saying is that blacks were nonpersons. Scott would, in a strange twist, eventually be granted freedom but he died just a few months later of tuberculosis. I am not a fan of Barack Obama's politics; however it is incredible to me that in a relatively short period of time, this nation has gone from its highest court in the land considering blacks equal to a horse, to its people electing its first black president. It is a past to be ashamed of and a future to be hopeful about. Some are now calling for an end to Black History Month. The argument is that rather than teaching black history or white history, we should be teaching American history - interesting. What do you think?

THE PALIN PREDICAMENT

admin — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:23:21 +0000

"Everyone should be abstinent but it's not realistic... [sex] is more and more accepted among kids my age." - Bristol Palin Thank goodness my girls are only eight so I don’t have to explain why Sarah Palin’s daughter, Bristol, is so dazed and confused today. First let me say that I’m a moderate fan of Sarah Palin. Not a sticker-on-the-bumper fan, in fact, it’s clear she wasn’t ready for prime time (unless you count Saturday Night Live), but a fan nonetheless. She obviously energized the 2008 election, I agree with some of her politics, and (you betcha) she’s attractive (don’t cha know). But her appearance on Fox with new mommy-daughter Bristol didn’t exactly send a clear message to today’s youth, who hopefully were glued to American Idol at the time. In the interview with Greta Van Susteren, young Bristol says she wants to be an advocate against teen pregnancy. She says that being a mom isn’t at all “glamorous,” but when it comes to abstinence; stopping teen sex is “not realistic at all.” Meanwhile Sarah, who backed abstinence-only education for Alaska’s schools when she was running for governor in 2006, now says that abstinence “sounds naive,” and that “life happens.” On being a mom, Bristol says “I love it, just seeing him smile and stuff. It’s awesome.” In the next breath she says that she wishes she had waited ten years before having a baby when she has an education, a job, and a house. Whoa, is Ryan Seacrest still on I hope? Look, as a pro-lifer, I’m VERY glad she decided to have the baby. She obviously has a strong support system in her family, and hopefully the baby’s father will do the right thing for his son. But I’m not sure what, if anything, was accomplished by allowing the media a peek into their private lives right now. It comes across like a bad reality show complete with names like Tripp, Track, Trig, Piper, and Willow. As for sex education, 93% of Americans in a recent poll agree that some sort of sex education should be taught in schools. Only 15% believe that education should be “abstinence only.” Interestingly, we’re divided almost equally on two approaches (1) When it comes to sex, teenagers need to have limits set; they must be told what is acceptable and what is not. Or (2) Ultimately teenagers need to make their own decisions, so their education needs to be more in the form of providing information and guidance. When American Idol is over what are you telling your kids?

WOMEN TAKE A STAND

admin — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 23:02:50 +0000

It's not likely in my lifetime, however it is my hope and prayer that Islamic extremists can somehow begin to understand that their barbaric treatment of women and girls goes against all that is good and decent. Perhaps heroes like Ameneh Bahrami and Nonie Darwish will help shed some light on these dark practices. Bahrami is an Iranian woman, permanently blinded and disfigured by a jilted stalker who threw acid in her face. She has persuaded a court to sentence him to be blinded with acid himself under Islamic law demanding an eye for an eye. Ameneh refused to accept what she calls "blood money" and instead insisted that he suffer the same fate as she did. Her attacker, a 27-year-old man identified only as Majid, admits he is guilty of this unimaginable crime. He claims he was in love with her. Sure you were. Unfortunately, this is not some isolated case. Human Rights Organizations say that punishing women and girls by throwing acid in their faces is fairly common in countries such as Bangladesh and Cambodia and that it also happens in Afghanistan and Pakistan. In Iran, women are legally stoned to death for commiting adultry, yet under Sharia a man can marry a girl at any age and have as many women as he wants. Nonie Darwish was born in Egypt and was raised as a Muslim in the Gaza strip. She now lives in the states and publicly condemns Islamic or "Sharia" law. She warns that this wickedness is slowly spreading to the West. “Islam must be contained, and its tumultuous and destructive lifestyle must be prevented from spilling over and becoming a power in the West,” Darwish says. “Sharia Law threatens to destroy freedom. The choice is clear; either wake up to the danger today or submit unconditionally tomorrow.” Nonie has written an excellent book on the subject. Cruel and Usual Punishment is in stores and on Amazon.com now. I am not sure how I feel about the eye-for-an-eye approach. As a Christian, my tendency is to forgive before returning hate with hate. But I applaud these women and the countless ones out there like them not in the press who have the courage to resist and fight back against the kind of oppression that most of us can't even begin to imagine.

Obama The Game Show!

admin — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 23:23:34 +0000

I was going through my email the other day when a subject line caught my eye: DON'T MISS YOUR CHANCE FOR A GOVERNMENT BAIL OUT. As I pushed the delete button without opening it I wondered how many people did and what they expected. After all, this is the year of the open hand. Corporations, governments, and people are waiting - make that - expecting that the new administration will save them from whatever mess they're in. While selling the stimulus package to America a couple of weeks back, President Obama held a townhall-style meeting in Fort Myers, Florida. Henrietta Hughes made headlines when she had the audacity (of hope) to stand up and ask for a house for her family. What is this a game show? Where's Rod Roddy? President Obama's response to this lucky contestant; "We're gonna do everything we can to help you...I'll have my staff talk to you after the town hall." Tell her what she's won Rod! "Henrietta, you and your family will be moving into a vacant 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom Florida home thanks to the generosity of State Representative Nick Thompson and his wife, Chene! You can stay there, rent-free for as long as you like." (the crowd cheers) Look, I don't know Henrietta or her circumstances and I won't judge her, I just hope that she uses this incredible gift to get herself on her feet and then moves out. College student Julio Osegueda was the next contestant. He stood up, thanked God that Obama was there, and then told the president that he has worked at McDonald's for more than four years "Do to the fact that I can't find another job," he so articulately stated. He went on to ask the president if he has a plan to get him better benefits since he's been flipping burgers for so many years. Really? Is there a clue on the dollar menu Julio could buy? Automotive industry executives come on down! These financial wizards say that unless they get around $39-billion in federal help, they won't be able to survive. Rod, crank up the printing presses, they've won! You too banking CEOs! There's a bailout for you behind door #3, only there's a catch; if you take the cash, you'll have your salary capped at $500,000 a year. (the crowd goes wild) But wait, could this lead to more? Academy award-winning actor Sidney Poitier is urging President Obama to cap the salaries of CEOs everywhere at $500,000 per year whether they get a bail out or not. "We have an awful lot of people in our country who are – who have no jobs," explained Poitier. "We have a lot of yards to go before we score a touchdown” Um, Sidney? Loved you in Mr. Tibbs but shut up sir. Do you really want the government deciding what people make - what they're worth? Do you include young actors in your socialist views? I mean why should Keanu Reeves get 20 million dollars for a film? He sucks. It'll be interesting to see where this new game show goes. When people get something for free it may feel like the PRICE IS RIGHT but in reality there is TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES, and these giveaways are putting the entire free-enterprise system in JEOPARDY - ahem, sorry.

Five People I'd Like To Hang With

admin — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 23:23:21 +0000

Greetings! I was thinking about a few people I'd like to spend some time with to get an inside look at where they started, where they've been, and where they're going. I didn't want to include dead historical figures. First, that's too easy. Second, I'd have to do all the talking and that could get boring really fast. The people on my list are not my heroes, I only have two of those; Jesus Christ and my dad - both of whom are still alive and I talk to all the time. These are just five random selections that I'd like to shoot hoops, go to a ballgame, get some ice cream, or do lunch with. George "Sparky" Anderson: Hall-of-Fame Manager of the Cincinnati Reds and Detroit Tigers. Sparky, who turned 75 this weekend, was the first manager to win a World Series in both the National and American Leagues. I'd hang out with him so that I can hear some really cool old baseball stories and how he managed to stay so humble for so many years. He always believed in treating people exactly the same way whether it was the owner of the team or the usher who wiped down the stadium's seats. Thing I'd never say to Sparky: Dude, I thought you were 75 when you won the World Series in 84'. Barack Obama: No matter what your politics are, you must admit that our new president is intriguing. From the day he stepped into the national spotlight in 2004 when he delivered the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention, he seemed destined for the White House. His task is monumental, the bar has been set far too high, and his rock star status is ridiculous. How will he handle the indescribable pressure? What is his vision for America at the end of his term(s)? I'd like to shoot hoops with him and then talk on the bleachers until the sun sets. Thing I'd never say to Barack Obama: Don't bring that weak stuff in here. Miley Cyrus: Speaking of pressure. This Disney-product is currently on top of the world. I challenge you to go into any 8-11 year old girl's room and not find something with Miley, a.k.a. Hannah Montana on it. The press cannot wait to see her fall and hopefully they'll never get the chance. I'd love to talk with her about the amazing power she has. A hospital worker in Nashville once told me that Miley likes to visit with sick kids as long as the press is never notified. Imagine the smile she puts on a child's face. Imagine the good that she can do with her gifts. I'd go shopping with her as long as we used her credit card. Thing I'd never say to Miley: Is that a pimple? General David Petraeus: America's most respected soldier-scholar-statesman and head of U.S. Central Command. When General Petraeus took over in Iraq in February 2007, the insurgency was winning. U.S. and Iraqi casualties were horrifyingly high. Parts of the country were being terrorized by death squads who roamed freely kidnapping, torturing, and killing. At the time General Petraeus described the situation as “hard but not hopeless.” He put forth a military and political strategy that has paved the way for Iraq to become a free, modern, democratic, and prosperous country - an important ally to the United States in the most volatile part of the world. Thing I'd never say to General Petraeus: We should never have gone in there in the first place. Tom Monaghan: Entrepreneur and philanthropist who founded Domino's Pizza in 1960. This guy was so rich that he decided since he liked baseball so much as a child but was never good enough to play, he'd buy the Detroit Tigers. This way he could put on a uniform and practice with the team. Truly a rags-to-riches story, Monaghan had a mansion under construction, he owned several classic cars, he even had his own island! One day everything changed. Inspired by the C.S. Lewis classic, Mere Christianity, Monaghan decided that his sinful pride and ego were leading him down the wrong path. He sold the Tigers for a handsome profit, he sold Dominos (for 1 billion dollars), and he rid himself of other materialistic things in favor of becoming a champion for greater causes. Businessweek reports that by the end of 2004, Monaghan had given away $450 million of his $950 million fortune. He is now under fire for building an entirely new city in Florida called Ave Maria. He wants to run this new community according to strict Roman Catholic principles - fascinating. Thing I'd never say to Tom Monaghan: This Holy Communion tastes like crazy bread. I know that it's bizarre and rather humorous that Miley Cyrus is on the same list as General Petraeus, but there is a common thread here that shouldn't be missed. Every one of these people has been the focus of criticism on one level or another. Do these phrases sound familiar? "The war in Iraq is lost." "She's only popular because her dad is Billy Ray." "He only won because he had a bunch of hall of famers in the lineup." "He's the anti-Christ!" Are you being criticized for what you do? If not, you should do more. Who's on your list?

Gracebook

admin — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 02:38:25 +0000

One day someone imagined a web site where you could sign up and do cool things like share your personal information, post 25 random things about you, even upload pictures of your cute nephew or the puppy you just brought home - you know, the moments in life that bring you joy. They invented a place where you could type in a "status update" to announce to the world exactly what you're doing and thinking at any given moment of the day - Brilliant! Today I'm imagining something BIGGER. I'm talking about a more honest approach. A place you can go to share your REAL thoughts. Not just what brings you happiness, but what frustrates and angers you - what you worry about, and fear. A place you can go besides Google to get some answers. Let's call it Gracebook. On Gracebook, the only "friend" you approve is God. You post messages only to Him. You don't have to be real specific since He already knows how many hairs are on your head (in my case that's not all that impressive by the way). It would take a lot less typing because He already knows how you feel and why. You wouldn't have to worry about birthdays since He planned for yours years ago. And maybe instead of posting a silly "status update" like: "Curt is standing in line at the grocery store. I wish this idiot behind the counter would hurry up." God could give you an update, something like: "That lady behind the counter is a single mom who's consumed with worry because her five year old daughter isn't responding to treatment. She'd rather be home but she has to work to pay the doctor bills." A few minutes later God boldly posts: "Please pray for her." When you first start using Gracebook you inundate God with questions on his Gracebook wall. Why don't you answer my prayers? Why do you watch me struggle? Why don't you help me make ends meet? How come I'm so alone? Each day you anxiously log on and hope that He answers your specific questions. One day God posts a simple question Himself: "You trust me with your eternal life, but not with these things?" Not everyone believes in Gracebook, in fact you could be laughed at by some people for wasting your time on it. It doesn't matter though because it's between you and the one friend you know loves you. One day, you log on and notice that God has posted a dozen or so photo albums, each containing photographs of children. Their beautiful, flawless, and innocent faces shine brightly from your computer screen illuminating an otherwise dimly lit room. Underneath the albums you notice the title "Heaven." A couple of days later you turn on CNN and see that a school bus has crashed in North Carolina. The fiery wreck kills 14 children. You instantly recognize the victim's photos on the screen as the ones you saw on Gracebook earlier that week. You're still saddened, but thanks to Gracebook, you know where those kids are tonight. The more you use Gracebook the more comfortable it becomes. Eventually you realize that it doesn't take a rocket scientist - or in this case a computer science degree - to understand that it's all about believing and trusting. If you do that, you don't need Gracebook. You have the Good Book and the invitation is always there to "log on" and do a search - keyword "Faith." By the way, if there was a Gracebook, it wouldn't come with a feature to send God flair or invite Him to take you on in a stupid virtual snowball fight. Now THAT would be HEAVENLY. :-)

LOST

admin — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 19:28:53 +0000

I know of a young man, a kid really, who at the tender age of 18 is traveling on a dark and lonely road. It is a road he didn't choose for himself, but rather one that he was abandoned on - left to walk alone with no direction. Today he has reached a fork in that road. There are no signs and no one around to point the way. Choose one path and he will wind up in jail or dead. Choose the other and he faces an uphill climb - a struggle that will be more difficult than he can possibly imagine. In many ways you've heard "Derrick's" story before. He was raised by a white single mother on welfare. His father is an African-American who's been in and out of jail and never showed much interest in raising his own son. His mother did the best she could, but she had little mothering skills and sadly never developed them. Derrick struggled in school, often got into trouble, and eventually dropped out. Today he has no driver's license, no job, and no hope. He writes things on his Facebook like: "Nothing will ever work out for me." "I'm exactly what everyone thought I was...nothing." "I just feel like giving up." and "I just feel like my life wasn't meant to be." The boy is lost. This is a tragedy. Derrick doesn't believe in anything because no one believes in him. He has no faith because no one has faith in him. He doesn't know who he is, where he came from, or why he was abandoned. He's sad, angry, and depressed and doesn't even know why. Although I live three states away from Derrick, my wife and I are trying to figure out a way to help him - at the very least make sure that those around him are aware of his desperate state. The truth is God cares and has a purpose for his life. Prayers are needed. Some of you know that I am working with Bill Cosby and Dr. Alvin F. Poussaint as they promote their book Come On, People. When I tell Mr. Cosby about Derrick he will not be surprised at this young man's desperation. Bill's been talking about the Derricks of the world since the 1970's. Bill and Alvin will tell you that homicide is the #1 cause of death for black men between 15 and 29 years of age. Although blacks make up just 12% of the general population, they make up nearly 44% of the prison population. And the suicide rate among black men has increased 100% over the last few decades. We have a crisis on our hands - one that not many are talking about. Barack Obama is known as our first black President - he is actually half white, just like Derrick. Does this offer any hope at all? Can the president at least serve as a role model for achievement? Eventually Derrick is going to have to choose to forgive the people responsible for putting him on this dark and lonely road, choose not to be a victim - choose to live. Reverend Jesse Jackson Sr. may have said it best when he said; "No one can save us from us but us." My prayer is that Derrick and others like him realize that you get one chance at this life. Make it count. You'll likely never become president of the United States, an NBA star, or a football hero, but you can become a man with integrity - a person better than the one who let you down.

hope

admin — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 19:26:44 +0000

hope1

admin — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 15:20:13 +0000

hopebook

admin — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 15:33:41 +0000

dredscottbook

admin — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 15:38:27 +0000

comeonpeoplebook

admin — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 16:16:11 +0000

hopestout

admin — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 16:29:37 +0000

hope2

admin — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 00:33:34 +0000

hopestout1

admin — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 00:51:07 +0000

hopestout2

admin — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 00:54:20 +0000

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOPE

admin — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 17:06:26 +0000

This afternoon I'm going to Wendy's to order some fries and dunk them - one by one - into a Frosty. I'll do this in honor of a girl I never met, but who has impacted my life forever. Hope Stout was a blue-eyed, freckled-face, giggly little redhead - a bundle of energy who loved kittens, cheerleading, and stuffed animals. Like most 12 year olds, all she wanted to do was have fun, laugh, and of course be famous! But God had other plans - bigger plans. After complaining of persistent knee pain for several weeks, her mother took her to the doctor for a check up. She was so active that her parents figured it was just growing pains. They soon heard the worst news possible; Hope had a rare and aggressive form of bone cancer. For months, she endured aggressive treatment, including chemotherapy and radiation, yet the disease spread at an astonishing speed. As Hope's fight against cancer progressed, the local Make-A-Wish Foundation came to her and asked, "If you could have one wish, what would it be?" Hope could have asked for just about anything, but this extraordinary girl instead asked about other kids. She was told that 155 kids were on a waiting list in North Carolina to have their wishes granted. That was all she needed to know. Hope shocked everyone by wishing that every kid on that list get their wishes – at a cost of more than a million dollars. "This all comes from faith in God," Hope explained. "None of this, not one part of this would be happening if we didn't have God in our lives." When word of Hope's wish spread, fundraisers were planned, the media got on board, and the entire community responded. More than a million dollars was raised in just 30 days. Hope died January 4, 2004, but she knew her wish had been granted. Since Hope's passing, her parents, Stuart and Shelby Stout have made it their mission to help other parents with sick children. They established The March Forth With Hope Foundation which provides financial assistance to families battling cancer or other life-threatening diseases. Incredibly, Hope's wish continues to help families today. I got the life-changing experience of working with Stuart and Shelby promoting their book, Hope's Wish. We traveled to New York and they told their story on Fox and Friends and The Early Show. They even met my twin daughters, Emily and Megan who I have held just a little tighter since hearing Hope's story. Imagine the mountains that were moved because of this angel's brief time on earth. Her unshakable faith granted hundreds of wishes including her own. Hope's Wish will soon be a major motion picture, making Hope more famous than she could have ever imagined. I plan on bringing a Frosty to the premier. Hope would have been 18 today. Happy birthday Hope, thank God for your life.

big-sur-afternoon

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 17:15:01 +0000

big-sur-afternoon1

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 17:16:02 +0000

nikki

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:43:45 +0000

nikki1

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:44:36 +0000

big-sur-afternoon2

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:45:42 +0000

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admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:46:41 +0000

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admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:48:07 +0000

alanis

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 20:00:14 +0000

If this isn't on Jam Showbiz, it's been ripped off. http://www.canoe.ca/JamMusic/home.html e-mail: jam@canoe.ca

glass

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 20:56:00 +0000

alanis2

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:50:42 +0000

alanis21

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:51:41 +0000

alanis22

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:54:22 +0000

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admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:55:35 +0000

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admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:58:12 +0000

alanis31

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 22:59:19 +0000

Beyond Bars

admin — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 00:44:02 +0000

Our truest life...is when we are in our dreams, awake. - Henry David Thoreau Today I ask a simple question: what cages you? My mom has a parrot named Nikki. I was watching her one day as she was playing inside her cage. I thought about how she seemed pretty content in there, even happy. And why not? She has everything she needs; food, water, toys — all the comforts of home. When my dog terrorized her by jumping on the table that held her cage, she was a little scared but somehow she knew that the bars around her shielded her from danger. I think we do the same thing. We build cages around ourselves, we surround ourselves with comforts, and when danger lurks outside we often lack the courage to take it on. Alanis Morissette has a song called "These Excuses." These excuses how they served me so well They've kept me safe They've kept me stoic They've kept me locked in my own cell Among the excuses: I'm lonely, they'll hate me, it takes far too much energy, and there's not enough time. I keep these lyrics close as I make choices in my life. What excuses am I using to keep myself "safe?" Are they preventing me from wandering too far from my comfort zone? These are serious times in our world. Everything we were taught we could count on seems to be crumbling — job losses, foreclosures, vanishing 401(k)s, and uncontrollable debt. The glass not only seems half empty, it seems shattered. The temptation is to withdrawal, retreat, and close our cage doors. It takes courage not to do this. What is courage? The best definition I ever heard comes from Duke Basketball Coach Mike Krzyzewski who says that courage means daring to do what you imagine. Read that again: courage means daring to do what you imagine. If you're like me you don't always feel so courageous. I look to God for the answer. His invitation to us is to trust Him for that courage. He promises that danger is present around every corner — that dogs will lurk outside our cages. The good news is that stock in God will never tumble, He doesn't downsize, and your home in heaven will never be foreclosed. "Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41: 10 So go for it. Swing open the door to your cage and take a courageous flight. Remember that dogs can't fly. Trouble is all around us, but no one ever said we can't soar above it.

churchshooting

admin — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:44:03 +0000

jeremycamp

admin — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:50:17 +0000

churchshooting1

admin — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:51:27 +0000

churchshooting2

admin — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:52:51 +0000

Where Was God?

admin — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 18:53:31 +0000

Imagine you're part of the Sunday morning congregation. It feels like any other Sunday. You sing a few songs, share a couple of handshakes and smiles with the people around you, and you settle in to hear a good message. Suddenly a man, armed with a .45-caliber semiautomatic pistol, walks down the main aisle toward the pastor and begins shooting. Fred Winters, Senior Pastor of First Baptist Church in Maryville, Ill. uses his Bible to deflect the first of four rounds, creating a confetti-like spray of paper as people begin to scream at the realization that this is no skit, this man just killed your church leader right before your eyes. The obvious question is this: where was God? How can a loving God allow a deranged man to walk into His house and gun down one of His closest followers? How can God stand by while Fred's beautiful wife and two young daughters are left without a husband and a father? I am sorry to say I have no answer. But I can say for sure that there is nothing wrong with asking the question. God is not surprised by what happened or by anything. But it is a mystery why evil and free will often have their way and it's natural for us to ask; where was God? I had the pleasure of speaking with Christian recording artist Jeremy Camp not long after his young wife Melissa lost her battle with cancer. She was only 21 years old and she died just months after they got married. I asked Jeremy how difficult it was to stay faithful after her death. He told me something I'll never forget. "I told God, God...I love you, and I know that you're there, but I just don't feel like you're so great right now," Camp said. It took time, time for Jeremy to write again, time for him to sing again. "It's not like you just bounce back," said Camp. "But God gives me the strength and I want to encourage others who are struggling.” Jeremy sat down and wrote "I Still Believe" as a tribute to his wife and as a statement of faith. He took great comfort in Romans 8:18 which says: For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy of being compared to the glory that will be revealed to us. God has restored Jeremy's life and He has the power to do that for the people who witnessed the horrific events in that Illinois church and for you. There is no explanation as to why pain and suffering seem to prevail. The good news is that it's not the end of the story, just one incredibly sad chapter. So keep going, the story has an ending happier than any we can possibly imagine.

turtle

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 13:22:08 +0000

cyote

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 13:32:46 +0000

glass1

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 14:18:32 +0000

glass2

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 14:35:13 +0000

cyote1

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 14:35:56 +0000

cyote2

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 14:38:24 +0000

The Worry War

admin — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 16:02:33 +0000

I have been fighting a battle all my life — the seemingly unwinnable war on worry. Don't believe me? Just look at my fingernails! Oh, I've worried about everything. My job, my bills, my relationships, my health, my past, my future. Just name it, I've worried about it. I'm the CEO of worry. I've even unknowingly created situations that gave me new things to worry about, and I've gone so far as to take medication to combat worry and anxiety. How about you? Do you find yourself with more and more anxiety these days? The new baby? The layoff? The choice you made? It's totally understandable. I'm a glass-half-full guy, but the state of our country and our world doesn't exactly incite warm fuzzies these days. As Christians, our worry is made worse by the added guilt that we're supposed to find nothing but peace and harmony knowing that God is with us (cue the harps). Great, now we're worried and guilty! I don't suppose there's a pill for that? I've decided that if I can't totally rid myself of worry, I can at least reduce its strangle hold on me. Jesus told his disciples not to be anxious about anything, but instead to pray, be thankful and ask God for all things. Okay, but all you really needed back then was a good pair of sandals right? Our needs are more pressing now, aren't they? ah, but Matthew 6:24 reads: Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Well, now that's still true in 2009 isn't it? Later, Jesus lays it all on the line for us: "And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?" Good point J-man, I have no comeback for that. Aside from my faith, I also take comfort in the fact that I beat my worry of flying — I mean completely. I used to get on a plane and my knuckles were whiter than Michael Jackson. I not only worried that the plane was going down, I knew it was! Today when I fly I have zero worry, zero anxiety, none. How did I do it? By doing it a lot. The more I flew the easier it got, the less it seemed like a carnival thrill ride. I listen to music, read, and work on the laptop. One time the wheels hit the runway and I didn't even know we were close to the airport. I conquered my worry. It can be done. Look at your past. Look at the things you used to worry about and realize that your fears were rarely, if ever realized. How much are you holding yourself back because of your worries? Are you diving straight in, or are you so worried that the water's cold you've decided not to take the plunge at all? Make a choice. Make today the day that you decide that yes, you've got worries, but that they don't dictate your course, they won't hold you back, and that they can't — as Jesus said —add one more hour to your life. Wow, I was worried I wouldn't finish a new blog this week. See?

heaven

admin — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 20:45:42 +0000

Just Say It

admin — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 16:33:42 +0000

A heart attack claimed a family friend last week. As usual when death strikes close to home, I pause to remember what a precious gift life is and how grateful I am for the people in my life who love and care about me. But there's something else... The opportunity is there right now for us to say what we have to say to those most important to us. Do you owe someone a call? How about a good old-fashioned letter? Maybe you need to forgive someone or ask for forgiveness. Or maybe you just need to say "I love you." Here's my advice: Just say it. A friend of mine was in college when she got that terrible phone call; Her dad had died. No illness, no warning, no nothing. Suddenly her hero was gone. Today, she can smile knowing that he knew exactly how she felt about him. One of my favorite songs of all time is The Living Years from Mike & The Mechanics. Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It's too late when we die To admit we don't see eye to eye Don't wait any longer. I was recently reminded of something very important about forgiveness: forgiveness is about letting go of whatever it is you're carrying. It doesn't excuse horrible behavior. The person doesn't even have to know you're seeking forgiveness. It is between you and God. Think of it as a heart tune-up. An unforgiving heart slowly darkens and life cannot be lived to its fullest. Let it go. You'll be glad you did. Goodbye Ed. Your booming voice may have been silenced here, but it can still be heard loud and clear.

keyboard

admin — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 16:59:14 +0000

wedding

admin — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:23:40 +0000

glass3

admin — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:27:39 +0000

beachphoto3

admin — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:29:35 +0000

wedding1

admin — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:30:55 +0000

megem

curtharding — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 17:58:04 +0000

megem1

curtharding — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 18:03:28 +0000

megem2

curtharding — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 18:06:46 +0000

kell

curtharding — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 14:58:14 +0000

tiger

curtharding — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 16:55:16 +0000

george

curtharding — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 19:40:04 +0000

facebook

curtharding — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 19:41:42 +0000

sign1

curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 15:21:52 +0000

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curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 15:35:36 +0000

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curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 16:28:41 +0000

heaven1

curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 18:12:36 +0000

delorean1

curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 18:13:20 +0000

delorean2

curtharding — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 18:39:14 +0000

admin — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 20:07:43 +0000

Ever wished you were back on the playground and you could yell: "DO OVER!" You said something you shouldn't have said, did something you shouldn't have done, or chosen the "wrong" path in life. Don't you wish you could hop into the Delorean, activate the Flux Capacitor, flash back to the past, and change your future? Well that may have worked out great for Marty McFly, but the rest of us "buttheads" don't live in Hill Valley in 1985. When you look up "regret" in the dictionary you'll find this: to feel sorry, disappointed, or distressed about. The synonyms are interesting: sorrow, grief, anguish, woe, heartache, and heartbreak. What a list! Each word comes from a dark place. None of it pleasant. None of it good. None of it from God. I'd like you to meet regret's cousin, what if. Oh, that's right, you've met: What if I hadn't broken it off with him? What if I would've finished school? Taken that job? Made a different choice? And the answer is always the same: I would be happier now. Only one problem; that conclusion isn't based on fact, it's based on feelings. How can you possibly know if one choice is better than another? What force is working around us to make us constantly doubt ourselves and our beliefs? God told us that "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." (1Peter 5:8) How much more vulnerable do you think we are to evil when we feel sorrow, grief, anguish, woe, heartache, and heartbreak? With all due respect to Marty McFly, there is no future in your past. Opportunity knocks and sometimes we aren't listening. Doors slam in our faces and sometimes we deserve it. We stumble onto roads we shouldn't travel forgetting to consult the ultimate GPS. Try not to be too busy with the might-of-beens to see the what's-to-comes. Stand strong in the faith. In the end, that is more powerful than 1.21 gigawatts of electricity. No hungry lion stands a chance against that.

dsc01033

curtharding — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 22:56:21 +0000

dsc010331

curtharding — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:00:44 +0000

girlsintree

curtharding — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:02:12 +0000

girlsintree1

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girlsintree2

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girlsintree3

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girlsintree4

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girlsintree5

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girlsintree6

curtharding — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:18:10 +0000

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girlsintree8

curtharding — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:21:35 +0000

dsc010335

curtharding — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:22:44 +0000

dsc010336

curtharding — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:24:03 +0000

dsc010337

curtharding — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:25:16 +0000

Laughter-soaked Walls

admin — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 00:59:26 +0000

Steve Johnson, one of the truly great people in my life, once wrote on his Facebook that years of laughter have soaked the walls of his home. What a beautiful sentiment. This Thanksgiving season I'm thinking about all the fun and the love that goes on at our house and I'm thanking God for it. I imagine what it must sound like from just outside our front door. The priceless girly-giggles when the tickle monster rears his goofy head. The ear-piercing screams and the stomping of little feet as Emily and Megan dance to the blaring sounds of Hannah Montana; two precious girls enjoying their innocent childhoods. Their worlds are filled with fairy tales, butterflies, and dollhouses — just as it should be. Walls soaked in laughter. Last spring, my wife and I decided to brighten up the cathedral-style entry way of our house. Appropriately we chose a color called “Fools Gold.” Out came the rollers. Out went the bland, beige walls. In came a spectacular splash of brilliance. In the hallway leading to the girl’s room, Polly entertained the kids by painting a big yellow smiley face over the beige as they looked on, giggling with delight. Everyone knew that in just a matter of minutes, a fresh coat of gold would cover the entire wall and Smiley would be no more. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. When the hallway was completely covered and the paint had dried, I took a step back and admired our work. Then I noticed it; if you look real closely, you can still see the outline of that huge smiley face. Two coats of paint didn’t completely cover it! At first I was upset because the job is not perfectly finished. I'll have to sand that whole area and start over, I thought, clearly annoyed. But after reading Steve’s Facebook, I have a new perspective. Maybe the job is actually quite perfectly done. Perhaps a smiley face is exactly what should be there. Maybe it's a perfect symbol of walls soaked in laughter. What's going on inside your walls? Remember that trouble is always lurking just outside the door. Fear and uncertainty are just screaming to get inside. The welcome mat doesn't have to be out for the world's troubles. It's up to you whether or not to let them in. I choose to let them wait. I'll deal with the outside when I have to. No matter what I fall short on in life, no matter how many times I try and fail, there's one thing I know for sure. My home is filled with peace, love, and fun...and the walls are never thirsty.

newsweek

curtharding — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 18:46:20 +0000

Christianity's Demise?

admin — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 19:53:59 +0000

The cover of this week's Newsweek magazine features a declaration. Written in blood-red letters in the shape of the cross are the words: THE DECLINE AND FALL OF CHRISTIAN AMERICA. The article, eloquently written by Jon Meachum, sites the American Religious Identification Survey. It shows that the percentage of Americans who identify themselves as Christian has fallen 10 percentage points in the past two decades. Meanwhile, the number of people claiming to be atheists has increased fourfold, from 1 million to about 3.6 million. In typical New York-fashion, this equates to the "demise" of Christian America. In my opinion, Meachum goes well beyond what this survey indicates by concluding that a less-Christian America is a good thing - good for everyone, including Christians. He claims that Christians are discovering the virtues of a separation of church and state. He asserts that as Americans, we are at our best when we single religion out as neither particular help nor particular harm; and he points out that the fall of the Christian right has helped to calm the political environment. Interesting that this survey came out weeks ago, but Newsweek decided that Holy week was the best time to make it a cover story. I am not as disturbed by this obvious attempt to sell a few magazines as I am about the element of truth to it. There is a seeminly growing notion that open-mindedness means toning down or flat-out abandoning faith. Shhhhhhh don’t tell people that God plays a prominent role in your life. Don't tell people that you believe Jesus died for our sins. People will think you’re weird. This may explain why people would answer a survey with "none of the above." As if the Bible ever promised believers a guaranteed spot in the popularity contest. Like it or not, it is more noble in some people’s eyes to suggest that as a people, we really should take a big step back and re-examine faith. We're not a Christian nation; we're a nation of ideals – people who champion freedom and basic human rights. We don't need God to achieve greatness. But what if they’re wrong? What if God’s Word is truth? What if this "new attitude," this "awakening" that Newsweek seems to gleefully report on is more like a disease than some kind of cure? Are we really a better nation if we step away from God? Is there evidence of that? Okay Newsweek, you win. You got me riled up. Now go check some other statistics, like the one that shows a decline in magazine subscriptions and the sharp drop in your ad dollars.

tennessee-tornado-018

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:28:58 +0000

tornado

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:29:55 +0000

tornado1

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:31:29 +0000

tennessee-tornado-0181

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tennessee-tornado-006

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:34:23 +0000

Angels with Chainsaws

admin — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:47:23 +0000

Friday, April 10th a deadly tornado struck our community killing an infant and her mother, snapping power lines, uprooting trees, tossing around cars and trucks, and damaging or destroying more than 200 homes. I have never seen anything like it and I hope I never do again. I've also never witnessed the one thing that often happens when tragedy strikes; people coming together. I wasn't sure how that worked as I put on some old pants and work gloves and headed toward the most devastated area just a few blocks from my house. I envisioned some leader stepping forward with a list of to-dos and a group of volunteers raising their hands and getting it done. But that's not what I found. There was no one barking orders and no instructions to follow, people simply dug in where they could. When word spread that a mother and her 9 week old daughter had been killed, a sobering reality set in; as horrible as all of this looks, it's just stuff. Stuff can be replaced, or not, either way it's still just stuff. One man I spoke with called the volunteers who spent the day chewing up limbs and trees, "Angels with Chainsaws." These folks gassed up, sharpened up, and fired up their machines and went to work. I also noticed something else about these guys; there's nothing else they'd rather be doing. One group set up grills on the street and cooked hamburgers and hotdogs. There were dozens of water bottles along the curb, a mini-van filled with Subway sandwiches and chips, and people handing out home baked cookies. Some simply provided a comforting shoulder for people as they sifted through their belongings strewn across their lawns. Fittingly on this Easter Sunday, only 48 hours since the tornado touched down with its powerful 165 mile per hour winds, there are already signs of restoration. I didn't hear much open talk about God — yet God is all around us. His greatest command is to love one another, and that often gets lost in the routine of every day life. The next time I feel like the world is filled with nothing but dark storm clouds, I'll remember the day after the tornado — the day the clouds broke up, the sun broke through, and a community came back to life on Easter weekend.

tornado3

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:52:23 +0000

tennessee-tornado

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 21:13:06 +0000

tennessee-tornado-0182

curtharding — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 21:13:59 +0000

"Boyled" Over

admin — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 22:07:40 +0000

She is the hottest thing on the net. More than 20 million people have now watched Susan Boyle's incredible performance on "Britain's Got Talent." She's not young, she doesn't have movie-star looks, and well, she's kind of dorky. Yet, this overnight sensation has captured the hearts of people around the globe. The moment she opens her mouth and begins to sing the Les Misérables classic, "I Dreamed a Dream" and sounds as if she's ready to step onto a Broadway stage, we react with some type of emotion. As we pick our chins up off the floor, the reason we react becomes clear: because the mirror has been turned onto ourselves. This type of "reality" show works because we mock the Susan Boyles of the world. It's why the show's producers set us up the way they did. The silly music. The interview that revealed she's never been kissed. She's painted as that lady down the street who has 17 cats and her house smells like a litter box. Meanwhile, we the audience, inspect the book's cover and make judgments on what's inside. Why? because if we can point to the shortcomings and failures of someone else, it makes us feel superior. I don't think it's entirely possible to completely change this about ourselves, but this inspiring performance is a wonderful lesson for us all. Give people a chance — more often than not, they'll surprise you. Maybe not to the extent that Susan Boyle surprised you, but a gift could be revealed all the same. Can you think of a time that you didn't give a co-worker a chance? How about that weird looking guy on the plane? Did you even say hello? Perhaps you missed out on hearing a story that could enrich your life in some way. Perhaps you missed a shot at making a friend. God made each of our covers different. Whether they're pretty or not is subjective. If you take the time to look inside, you may discover a treasure. Thank you Susan Boyle. The world is a song and the song is exciting, especially when we listen more carefully.

boyle

curtharding — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 23:35:07 +0000

boyle1

curtharding — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 00:30:11 +0000

noticer

curtharding — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 01:13:24 +0000

noticer1

curtharding — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 01:29:25 +0000

I've Noticed

admin — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 19:33:47 +0000

Andy Andrews' new book, The Noticer is now available. Among the many things this book will get you thinking about: the five most influential people who have played a role in shaping who you are. I encourage you to take a few minutes and jot down your own list Why not thank them? It could be done privately with a letter or an email, or publicly through a blog, a note on Facebook, or by joining The Noticer Project Facebook Group. It's impossible not to leave someone out. We're influenced by a great many of important people in our lives, but I'll (mostly) stick to the rule of five. Here it goes: 1. My Parents, Jim and Jo Harding. I know that's two people, but since they work as a team, I'm counting them as one. Plus I won't have to explain later why I ranked one # 1 and the other #2 (hehe). My father's dad left him at a young age. So not only did he grow up dirt poor, there was no one to look up to — no one to point the way. Despite the odds, he is everything a person could ever want in a dad. Today, when he holds his grandchildren and wonders why they're so great, he need only look in the mirror at the reason. My mother can't even talk about her family without crying. She is bursting with love for all of us — something I have felt each day of my life. When I was 12 and in the hospital about to undergo my fifth surgery, my mom wiped away tears and told me that it hurt her more than me. I thought she was crazy...then I had children. How these two people were able to erase their past and shape my future is truly a miracle. 2. My wife, Polly. Talk about an answered prayer! I have no idea where I would be without her love and support. Without her, I would have taken very few risks in this life. She is both the person pushing me out of the plane, and the parachute that helps me float softly to safety. She has taught me more about forgiveness than anyone, and I look forward to growing old with her. 3. My father-in law, Tim Clagett. If there was a Mt. Rushmore for men of faith, honesty, and integrity, his would be the first face carved into the mountainside. A hero in every sense of the word, this World War II veteran built a business, raised a HUGE family, and made the most of God's gift of time. He has recognized each of the seasons in his 87 years. He has lived life humbly and with great appreciation and I admire him more than I can express. 4. My friend, Marlin Kibbe. I arrived at a small start-up newsradio station in Saginaw, Michigan ready to conquer the world. I thought I was awesome — the next Edward R. Murrow. One problem; I didn't know anything. Marlin and I hit it off right away. He taught me that talent was not enough. Working hard was not enough. Walking around with a microphone comes with it a great responsibility. We worked in both radio and television together for many years. He proved that you can be compassionate and still get the story. You can be kind and still beat the competition. Thanks to him I became a good journalist and he became a great friend. Marlin died November 17, 2005 and I will forever miss him. After he passed, my friend Sam Merrill wrote about Marlin: "He didn't live long, but he did live well." Truer words have not been written. My eighth grade teacher, Chris Reer. Frankly, I did not care about school. I was there for the entertainment. I was an out-of-control class clown. One day my art teacher, Mr. Reer said that he needed to talk to me. He asked me to stop by after school. In his office, with pottery, paper, and paints serving as a backdrop, he sat me down and explained that he saw something in me that stood out from all others. He encouraged me to pursue drama and get my grades up a bit. He said there was no limit to where I could go. I cannot begin to imagine the opportunities I would have missed had that conversation not taken place. I remember walking away wondering if he was nuts. Teachers, you can change lives. Chris did. So there you have it. The above people get much of the credit (or the blame) for who I am today. Who's your five?

meemeepapa1

curtharding — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 19:36:34 +0000

gps

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:51:44 +0000

gps1

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:54:36 +0000

sign4

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:37:51 +0000

gps2

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:53:22 +0000

sign5

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:12:00 +0000

gps21

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:47:47 +0000

a

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:52:17 +0000

car

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:12:32 +0000

car1

curtharding — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:27:28 +0000

Is Your GPS on?

admin — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:29:30 +0000

The GPS is without question the best invention ever, especially for direction-challenged guys like me. I punch in my destination and the little box, suction cupped to my windshield, shows me the way. PLEASE DRIVE THE HIGHLIGHTED ROUTE. What if we plugged in our GPS more often as we navigate through life? I'm talking about our God Positioning System. Oh, we all have one whether we want to acknowledge it or not. It's usually hidden away somewhere because we have all the answers. "It's okay for Carrie Underwood to let Jesus take the wheel, I know how to spend my time and money, where I should live and work, and who I should have relationships with." Sound familiar? "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." (James 1:5). RECALCULATING Have you ever taken the wrong road? I have. I have pushed God into the backseat plenty of times. Each time I've been set straight. Why wait until the "Dead End" sign appears in front of you before you turn around? Maybe you're skeptical that God wants to play an important role in your direction at all. Remember, just because you're not sure how God works, doesn't mean He's not at work. I didn't know that the GPS in my car can read 24 satellites placed into orbit by the U.S. Defense Department. I never realized that it uses triangulation to calculate my exact location until I Googled it. How comforting it is to know that The God Positioning System always works. Even with the GPS on the road can still get slippery, potholes will still emerge, and others will knock you off your path. The first step is to acknowledge that God is good. You are His child. You wouldn't think of allowing your child in the front seat without a seatbelt as you speed down the wrong side of the highway. Your child trusts you. Trust God. He knows where you're going. He knows how to get you there. Now go ahead. PLEASE PROCEED TO HIGHLIGHTED ROUTE.

dsc01090

curtharding — Sun, 03 May 2009 22:49:47 +0000

crystal

curtharding — Mon, 04 May 2009 20:07:09 +0000

God Winks on Mother's Day

admin — Mon, 04 May 2009 20:12:10 +0000

In Anaheim, California, Mavis Jackson drove past the Crystal Cathedral. For twenty years, she said the same thing: “Someday I’m going to go there.” One Sunday morning, she did. Putting on her best outfit, she simply decided, “Today is the day.” Getting there early, Mavis took a seat in the middle and watched the huge three thousand-seat megachurch fill with people. She was awed as the majestic voices of the choir seemed to encircle her. She marveled at the manner in which a huge section of the glass ceiling slid open at the start of the worship was if to invite even the birds to worship. At the end of the service, Mavis stood up and waited for the aisle to clear. Trying not to sound too excited, she said to the young lady next to her, “I am so glad I came today. Wasn’t it wonderful?” The young woman nodded. “Are you from here?” asked Mavis. “No, I’m from the Midwest,” said the young woman adding, “I’m actually here on a mission. To find my birth mother.” There was a pause. “I know how you must feel,” said Mavis. “A long time ago, I had to give up a little girl for adoption. I didn’t want to…but…” Another pause. The young woman looked deeply into Mavis’s eyes. “Do you…remember her birthday?” “Yes,” said Mavis cautiously. “October 30th.” “That’s my birthday,” gasped the young woman. That’s right! A remarkable “coincidence”–a godwink–had reunited a long-lost mother and daughter. What are the odds of that? They sat down. The young woman introduced herself as Cheryl Wallace. Cheryl explained that for years she had been haunted by the lingering uncertainty of not knowing who her birth mother was and, more important, why her mother had given her up. In her small midwest town, everyone was discouraging. “You’re looking for a needle in a haystack,” counseled the town clerk. “There’s no trace of her,” said others. Eventually a suggestion from someone who thought she’d once heard that Cheryl’s birth mother had moved to Orange County, California, led her to this time and place. Even on her most optimistic days, Cheryl never could have forecast such a remarkable outcome–that such uncertainty would end in such certainty, in a manner that only God could have made happen. And when they confirmed that their wonderful miracle was true–that they were long-lost mother and daughter–they knew that Mother’s Day would never be the same again. SQuire Rushnell Author, When God Winks At You

TELL THEM

admin — Tue, 05 May 2009 15:26:11 +0000

Greg was driving home from work. His mind was still racing from another rough week at the office. Six more people let go today, one a good friend. He wondered when the uncertainty would end as he inched closer to home on the same two-lane road he had traveled a hundred times before. He was convinced the axe would fall on him next and he asked himself, "How did I even get here?" He didn't think about it much, but Greg had a lot of regrets. He swore if he could just have money, his life would be better. The radio was on, but he wasn't listening. The overcast evening made it seem later than it was. A light mist dampened the windshield, but not quite enough for the wipers to be on. The speedometer read 40 mph, just five over the speed limit which he never really knew anyway. His seatbelt, as always, was secured safely around his waistline that he wished were a bit smaller. Suddenly and without warning, a car coming in the opposite direction crossed the center line and headed directly for him. It's amazing how much transpired in the next few seconds before what was sure to be a fierce crash. Incredibly, Greg had time to think about how surprisingly different the speed of a car looks when it's heading straight for you. He even had time to feel helpless as he shielded his face with one arm while violently turning the steering wheel with the other — a desperate and futile attempt to avoid the inevitable impact. Although his eyes were tightly closed, he caught a quick glimpse of the car twisting and crumbling down around him, and he heard the horrendous sound of crunching metal and shattered glass. The car flipped so many times that Greg lost count and he braced himself for the horrible pain that he knew was coming. He wondered if he would ever see his wife and little girl again. Seconds later, all was quiet except for the hissing sound coming from the front end of Greg's mangled and contorted car, now rested between two trees in the densely wooded area along the roadside. One of the front tires was wrapped all the way around the hood and through the windshield. It was still spinning. Greg, seated somewhere towards the front of the car, was in more pain than he ever thought possible. He smelled the odd combination of gasoline, anti-freeze, and blood, and he realized he was dying. After some time, he heard sirens rising up from the distance. "They're coming," he thought. "Too late," he whispered. Then it happened. A feeling of warmth began to engulf him — a comfort he had never before known. In his mind, he tried comparing it to a hot bath, or those heavy warm blankets the nurse put over him in the operating room when he got his appendix taken out a couple of years back. But this warmth was incomprehensible. Instantly his pain and worries left him, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of inexpressable joy. Colors began to encircle him — colors he had never seen and could not describe. He heard music so exquisite and flawless in its beauty that he began to laugh and cry at the same time. A voice called out to him — a voice so friendly no words exist to describe it. Greg didn't have to wonder, he knew it was Jesus. "I tell you the truth," Jesus began. "Most refuse to see, most refuse to hear. Tell them." Greg couldn't speak, but it didn't matter, he didn't know what to say anyway. Jesus reached out for him, taking his hands in his own. Although Greg was looking right at Him, he could not tell you what he looks like. Although he was touched by Him, he cannot tell you what it felt like. But the warmth penetrated his heart. He was home. "Sir!" another voice yelled. "Sir, are you okay?" Greg looked sharply to his left. It was a young fireman in full gear. "Sir, are you hurting anywhere?" Greg, convinced he could not speak replied, "I'm okay, I'm really okay." "In a few minutes you'll hear a loud machine," the firemen said. "We're going to cut off the door and get you out. Try not move...man, you are one lucky dude." Greg was afraid to hear the answer, but he asked the question anyway. "What about the other car? Is everyone in the other car okay?" The fireman looked puzzled. "Other car? Sir, there is no other car. It's just yours." Greg walked away from that crash completely unharmed. Everyone who saw the wreckage was astonished that anyone could have survived. How the crash happened could never be explained. I wish I could tell you that Greg immediately shared his incredible story. Sadly, he lacked the courage. He was so worried about what people would think of him that he never spoke of it. He convinced himself that it was all a dream and he never spoke of it — not even to his family. He did however write down every last detail in a journal simply marked "Tell Them."

The Fear of Failure

admin — Thu, 07 May 2009 21:15:41 +0000

"I know fear is an obstacle for some people, but it's an illusion for me." - Michael Jordan [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUW9TaZTUaI] The greatest basketball player on the planet gets it. Ever miss the shot? Drop the ball? Lose the game? So what? At least you had the courage to play the game. I tell my kids: don't let a few failures define who you are. Throughout history, people who've achieved success have experienced failure time and time again. We all know this, we've all read this, yet somehow we forget to apply it to our own lives. Why do we equate failure with being a failure? Thomas Edison spent a decade developing the storage battery. This had greatly strained his finances. One December evening in 1914, fire broke out in his work shop. Within minutes it all went up in flames. Everything was destroyed. Edison was 67 years old. The next morning, he looked at the ruins and said, “There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.”

Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver the first phonograph. He later called it his favorite invention.

Consider your failures rungs on a ladder and climb. Be like Tom. Be like Mike. The game's not over. There's still plenty of time on the clock — time to rebound and win.

Tornado 12

curtharding — Fri, 08 May 2009 12:01:36 +0000

Tornado 12

curtharding — Fri, 08 May 2009 12:02:36 +0000

Heaven2

curtharding — Wed, 13 May 2009 18:59:59 +0000

WALKING MIRACLES

admin — Fri, 15 May 2009 16:09:46 +0000

I do one important thing before I blog: I talk to God. Nothing major, just a quick "Hello God," followed by a question: "What would you like me to blog about today?" Sometimes I get no reply and I move on. Other times I can feel a rush of ideas flow into me. Today, I could almost hear a frustrated question back to me, "Isn't it obvious? TELL THEM!" In the past seven days, I have heard three real, personal, and honest God stories - walking miracles. Last week I decided to get my tires rotated and balanced. This was a rather random decision. It was neither planned nor urgently needed and frankly, I should have been at work. But there I was in the lobby of the shop with my head buried in a book or my Blackberry as usual. I don't usually make small talk, but I'm working to change that. I'm finding that small talk can lead to some big experiences. The guy sitting across from me was tall, athletic, and extremely cordial. He just seemed like the kind of a guy I could hang with. Before long I learned that Lorenzo is a former University of Florida football walk-on who has spent years taking on the toughest opponent of his life; lymphoma. Six years ago Lorenzo was near death. By the time he was discovered lying unconscious on his apartment floor, he went from being a 6'5" 230 lbs healthy athlete to a 180 lbs man with a temperature of 105, his organs close to shutting down. Today he is thankful and open about the faith that helped him battle back against cancer's most deadly assassin. I saw in him the face of courage and unyielding belief. Just a few days later, another car issue; my wife's driver's side power window wasn't working. I called a friend of a friend who fixes cars out of his home garage. Just minutes after introducing himself, Wayne made it clear that God has more for him to do. Otherwise he would've died a few years ago after a horrific motorcycle crash broke his pelvis and every bone in his face and left him with one eye. He has absolutely no memory of ever being in a crash. "I shouldn't be here," he says with a smile. "But God is good." That same week our pastor, Allen talked about his mother who, when he was just seven years old, was told she had only 6 months to live. She went to the Mayo Clinic to have radical surgery to remove her cancerous tumors. When she arrived, the doctors discovered - to their amazement - that the masses that were there just a few days before had vanished. No surgery required. Allen later learned that she prayed not so much for healing, but for truth. She asked God that before she died if He could reveal the truth to her about which faith was best for her three sons. After her healing she was in her kitchen and she heard a voice tell her, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." She had never heard John 14:6 before that day and had to look it up. That was more than 30 years ago. Three miracles in seven days. Just because we don't know how God works doesn't mean He's not working. TELL THEM.

abe

curtharding — Wed, 20 May 2009 16:53:32 +0000

abe

curtharding — Wed, 20 May 2009 16:55:39 +0000

a

curtharding — Wed, 20 May 2009 17:16:39 +0000

DARK PLACES

admin — Wed, 20 May 2009 18:29:55 +0000

Stephanie looks out over the water. Tiny rays of brilliant sunlight dance in her pretty green eyes. "I usually feel worthless," she sighs. Seated in his cube at work, Greg takes his eyes off his computer screen for a moment. "I haven't accomplished anything in my life," he says with a nervous smile. "Sometimes I feel like I just don't matter." Jennifer was hit head-on by a drunk driver as she drove home late one night. She was only slightly injured. As a precaution paramedics transported her to the hospital. "I cried all the way there because I knew I'd be fine," Jennifer said. Can you even imagine being that low? It's estimated that 40 million Americans suffer from some form of depression - estimated because most are silent about it. Feelings of shame, weakness, and personal failure are just too much. For most depression is a minor irritant, but for others it's debilitating and can lead to suicide. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy (John 10:10) For Christians it can be worse. Aren't believers supposed to be protected in some way? Doesn't our faith completely shield us from these dark places? The answer is no. In fact, I believe our vulnerabilities are attacked even more by the thief. In his New York Times best-selling book The Noticer, Andy Andrews suggests refocusing on the things you are grateful for. He writes, “The seeds of depression cannot take root in a grateful heart.” As simplistic as that may sound. I've been really thinking about it. I write down the things that I am grateful for: a comfortable bed, a good song, the rain helping me create my new lawn, and my daughter's irrististable laughter. Try it. Spend 5 minutes focusing on what is good and you'll be amazed. If you feel bad get help. If you know someone who needs help, offer your support. Treatment doesn't have to include drugs with scary side-effects. Sometimes a person needs more exercise, a better diet, laughter, music, prayer, perspective, and understanding. Don't miss the colors of the world. They are brighter with you in them.

Em & Meg 015

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 21:44:02 +0000

Em & Meg 004

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 21:45:03 +0000

Em & Meg 006

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 21:46:27 +0000

Em & Meg 001

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 21:47:03 +0000

Em & Meg 016

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 21:53:17 +0000

Em & Meg

curtharding — Sat, 23 May 2009 22:01:19 +0000

Meg&Em

curtharding — Sun, 24 May 2009 13:21:28 +0000

Em & Meg 29

curtharding — Sun, 24 May 2009 14:18:24 +0000

I Blinked and They Turned Nine

admin — Mon, 25 May 2009 12:05:57 +0000

Our daughters turned nine years old May 30. If I may borrow something they would say..."OMG." It seems like only yesterday I was driving Polly to the hospital because "it was time." A couple of hours later we were parents. We still talk about the day we came home with our double-bundle of joy. After reaching speeds of nearly 6 mph on the drive home from the hospital, we carried them - still sleeping in their car seats — into the house. We set them down on the living room floor and looked at other as if to say, "Okay, now what?" We had NO IDEA what to do. I checked the bag the nurses gave us as parting gifts: lotion, baby powder, a few baby blankets, and a bulb syringe (I don't even want to know what that's for) nope, no instruction manual — the one time I would actually read one too. A few dozen sleepless nights later, we discovered you just take it a day at a time. You learn, you love, you laugh, and you cry along with them. Suddenly the sacrifices our parents made become crystal clear, suddenly love has new meaning. Is there any doubt that children are gifts from God? Jesus knew this. The disciples tried to keep kids from bugging Him as he spoke. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." (Luke 18:16) These little creations have shown me more than I could ever show them. Now I know how my Father in heaven feels about me. Em & Meg, daddy wants you to know that my life began the day your lives began. Thank you for adding laughter and love to our home. I'm proud to be your daddy. Today, like so many days before this, I thank God for my daughters - my gifts from heaven. And I ask for renewed strength when they turn 13 — OMG.

Anger

curtharding — Thu, 28 May 2009 17:38:58 +0000

Anger

curtharding — Thu, 28 May 2009 17:56:02 +0000

Troubled? Fight back!

admin — Fri, 29 May 2009 18:03:38 +0000

"Every one of us is always in a crisis, coming out of a crisis, or headed for crisis." - Andy Andrews Jobs are lost. Relationships crumble. Health fails. Someone close dies. Jesus said it more than 2000 years ago. "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world." - John 16:33 How will you respond to your trouble? I told someone close to me who was recently laid off. "Take a day to cry about it, in fact take the rest of the week, and then let it change you." Why did we love Rocky so much? — Because he was being beaten by something bigger and stronger than himself. In Rocky IV, the Russian fighter, Drago was merely Goliath with a cool haircut. Then it happened, David emerged... [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1gvi7-fWPs] It's important to point out that Rocky didn't win the fight in that round — it took much longer. But once he proved to himself that his opponent wasn't in complete control, the balance of strength clearly shifted. The moment Rocky hurt him, the fight had just begun. When he got back into his corner Rocky said, "I see three of them out there." To which Paulie replied, "Hit the one in the middle." — great advice. Are you up against the ropes, struggling, alone in the ring staring straight into problems that seem bigger and stronger than yourself? Take heart. Go for the little victory and watch it build. It is a crisis, difficult for sure, but insurmountable? Please. Remember that you have an excellent cutman in your corner. Trust Him. Say to yourself each day, "Yes, I have trouble, but I'm fighting back hard. One of us will soon be laid out on the canvas and it isn't going to be me." Hear that? That's the bell ringing. Now get back in there and remember...hit the one in the middle.

Rocky

curtharding — Fri, 29 May 2009 18:15:01 +0000

Rocky

curtharding — Fri, 29 May 2009 21:47:19 +0000

a

curtharding — Fri, 29 May 2009 21:52:20 +0000

Sparky

curtharding — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 15:09:04 +0000

amy

curtharding — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 18:15:46 +0000

Nevaeh

curtharding — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 18:16:55 +0000

WHY ON EARTH?

admin — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 20:22:30 +0000

On the happiest day of her life, 26-year old Amy Slenk Handley of Holland, Michigan collapsed at her wedding reception. She died the next day. Just like that a lovely, adventurous, and vibrant life was over. For her family and for her husband of just a few short hours, a celebration turned to indescribable mourning and loss. Doctors say it was a brain aneurysm that killed her -- a pre-existing condition that could have erupted at any time. On the other side of Michigan, in an act of pure evil, 5-year old Nevaeh Buchanan disappeared while riding her scooter outside her apartment. Her body was later found in a shallow grave, buried in cement along a riverbank. Two tragedies; the first a young woman's life cut short just as it was beginning, the second an incomprehensible and senseless act of violence. In both cases we search for God. Where is He in times of sadness? Why didn't He step in? Why on Earth does He continue to allow pain, suffering, and death? One poster writes on Amy's message board, "This proves there is no God." That may just be an angry, emotional, and understandable rant during a time of loss. Or it may be the choice that person has made. As a believer, I know that God allows us the free will to reject or accept Him. It's up to us. Here's my choice; instead of questioning God's motives or His existence, I choose to wonder what He's like. At times I imagine a higher purpose -- a different perspective. Could Amy's aneurysm have erupted a year ago, a few months ago, two days before her wedding? Doctors say yes. Did God give her more time to discover love? Was it because of Him that she experienced the happiest moment of her life on Earth? And what about little Nevaeh whose name is heaven spelled backwards? I imagine that Jesus cried when she was killed the same way He wept when His friend Lazarus died. I picture Him showing her around heaven where there is no such thing as pain and sorrow. The little girl, described by a neighbor as "An angel filled with joy and love," has a new assignment now. One day all the answers will be clear to us. In the meantime, consider drawing closer to God. He is here, He does care, and while people give up on Him every day, He refuses to give up on you.

amy

curtharding — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 18:40:42 +0000

Ellie

curtharding — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 20:51:47 +0000

ellie

curtharding — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 21:37:13 +0000

ellie

curtharding — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 21:38:24 +0000

DREAM BIG, TAKE ACTION

admin — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 21:41:36 +0000

I'm always amazed when young people step up and make a difference in the world. It strikes me as odd because when I was a boy BMX bikes and Matchbox cars were the only things I thought about. My biggest mission in life was to meet Daisy Duke. How is it that a ten year old girl in Nashville, Tennessee can hear about the struggles of African children halfway around the world and be moved to take action? Ellie Ambrose did just that. She recognized a need, ignored the boundaries, and went to work. Ellie's Run, now in its fifth year has raised more than $155,000, helped put over 420 kids in school by providing them with necessary items – books, uniforms and shoes, helped build classrooms, and donated money to fight dehydration, malaria, starvation and HIV/AIDS. I met Ellie, now a high school sophomore, as she was getting ready to appear on a local TV station to bring attention to this year's 5k race in Nashville. As a father of two girls, I can't imagine how proud her parents must be. I could tell after 2-minutes that making a difference comes as natural to her as breathing. Of course none of this would be possible without the amazing efforts of people around her, but it all started with a little girl's dream and a prayer. We should all learn to block out obstacles, ignore limitations, tune out the noise, and make things happen. It's my new mission. I already met Daisy Duke. If you'd like to help, visit https://www.elliesrun.org/donate If you're in the Nashville area this Saturday head over to Percy Warner Park and have some fun! For more information visit http://www.elliesrun.org

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curtharding — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 13:57:00 +0000

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curtharding — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 13:57:38 +0000

MegandSparky

curtharding — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:15:21 +0000

EmilyBirthday

curtharding — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:16:06 +0000

EmilyBirthday

curtharding — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:20:12 +0000

PAPA

curtharding — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 16:01:01 +0000

Aikman

curtharding — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:07:58 +0000

Aikman

curtharding — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:08:57 +0000

Em & Meg 034

curtharding — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:09:11 +0000

Em & Meg 030

curtharding — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:16:46 +0000

FATHER'S DAY

admin — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:27:27 +0000

The Peace Corps has a slogan: the toughest job you'll ever love—much like the job of being Emily and Megan's Dad. I got this position nine years ago. It came as kind of a surprise to me too, it's not like I applied for it on Monster.com or something. WANTED: YOUNG IMMATURE FATHER NEEDED TO RAISE NOT ONE, BUT TWO BABIES AT ONCE, MUST HAVE THE ABILITY TO CHANGE ABOUT 47 DIAPERS PER DAY. HELP YOUR WIFE ROCK, FEED, CLOTHE, COMFORT, AND CONSOLE EACH CHILD AS NEEDED. MUST NOT BE A FAN OF SLEEP. MULTI-TASKING IS A MUST SINCE AT THE SAME TIME YOU'LL BE RUNNING YOUR HOUSE, BUILDING A CAREER, AND KEEPING YOUR MARRIAGE AND FRIENDSHIPS STRONG. The toughest job I've ever loved. Being dad has been a little tough this past week because I found myself disciplining them more than usual. To be honest, I hate that. I know you're not supposed to be "friends" with your kids, but I like playing with them and having fun. I don't enjoy raising my voice, making threats, or giving time-outs. But like most fourth graders, the girls are having a difficult time grasping the fact that they can't have everything they want, whenever they want it. Remember being a kid? Remember asking, "Why? Why can't John spend the night? Why can't you buy me that? Why can't we go there? Why can't I have what I want? I realize now that my parents said no sometimes not because they were being mean, but because they had a perspective that I did not. Sometimes we ask God for things. We wait, we wonder, and we expect that we'll get them. We want it fast too like it's a happy meal or something. "I want it now and I want the plastic toy too!" And when it appears He isn't coming through for us we doubt Him. We ask, "Why? Why isn't He listening to me?" We even try to make a deal. We say, "God if you do this, I'll do that. If you give me this, I'll quit doing that." As if we have anything to offer God. Like my nine year olds, we lack perspective. Here's the cure: trust. Trust that He knows something we don't. While we're asking, "Why can't I have that?" God may be saying, "Not yet, I have greater things for you, things you can't even begin to imagine." Trust. This Father's Day, I thank God for the greatest job I'll ever love— raising my beautiful daughters. For blessing me with my own father who's always there for me, for my father-in-law who is a hero in every sense of the word, and above all for the unconditional love of my heavenly Father who really does know best.

A LEAP OF FAITH

admin — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 14:15:05 +0000

Simon, Danny Glover's character in the 1991 film Grand Canyon asks Mack, played by Kevin Kline. "You ever been to the Grand Canyon? You can sit on the edge of that big ol' thing and you realize what a joke we people really are...what big heads we have thinking that what we do is gonna matter all that much. Those rocks are laughing at me right now, me and my worries. Yeah, it's real humorous, that Grand Canyon. It's laughing at me right now." Grand Canyon is one of my favorite films. Set in Los Angeles, the story tracks six different lives, brilliantly illustrating how far we've fallen while at the same time dramatically affirming the capacity we have to love and care for one another. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you rent it. It's good to remind ourselves just how small we are—how incredibly fragile. We really do need God so much. That's what ultimately made me return to faith. I lived a life not void of belief, but void of a relationship with God. I rarely consulted Him, hardly talked to Him, and never praised Him. I figured He had real problems to deal with and I certainly wasn't one of them. What I believe is that God wants us to take a leap—an actual leap of faith. This was hard for me. What I saw in Christianity was posers; smiling preachers, egos, power, scandal, limos, and a lot of money. Yep, my eyes were wide-open to all of things that pointed me away from what God did for me. So yeah, compared to the Grand Canyon we're pretty small. And yes, the rocks may be laughing at us, but we've got something the rocks don't—we've got Him. We're on an adventure. We're part of a rescue mission. When we take that leap, when we trust that we'll land on solid ground, we allow God to rescue us; to put us back together again. Ask yourself this week if you're all in. Have your feet left the ground, or are they planted next to those rocks who are in essentially the same place they were two thousand years ago? Take a leap. You'll like where you land.

SO LONG ED

admin — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 04:50:40 +0000

I grew up watching Ed McMahon on the Tonight Show. I struggled to stay awake every Friday night during the school year and EVERY night during the summer to catch him uttering those now famous words, "Heeeeeerrrreee's Johnny!" Years later, when I became his literary publicist, it was strange to say the least, especially when I arranged for us to travel to New York to promote his book, When Television Was Young. It is a memory I will cherish as long as I live. You never know what you'll encounter when you're around celebrities. As you can imagine there are often inflated egos and ridiculous demands. Ed and I had talked on the phone several times, but until I got to New York we hadn't seen each other in person. The moment I met him, he shook my hand and thanked me for getting him booked in the press (something that was not hard by the way). I knew right away that I was dealing with a gentleman who happened to be a star. After the Today Show, we were walking to the car parked on a busy New York street and dozens of people would walk by and just say "Hey Ed!" as if they knew him for years. Some dropped what they were doing for the chance to get closer to him. Men shook his hand. Ladies asked if they could hug him. Everyone felt like he was their friend. I overheard one young couple on their honeymoon whispering that they wish they could just meet him. By now Ed was in the car and the driver was waiting for me. I asked him if he could say hello to them. He smiled and said, "Sure, tell them to come on in!" The newlyweds hopped into the backseat and Ed visited with them for a few minutes before we took off. A simple thing, but cool all the same. We had about two hours to kill before the next interview. Ed asked if we could just drive around for awhile. He wanted to see some of the places he used to hang out, including where he once lived. "Of course," I said and our driver followed his directions. We drove around for awhile and Ed told us a bunch of funny stories, and then it happened. He asked the driver to pull over in front of a restaurant. Suddenly the car became silent. Ed stared out of his window and didn't say anything for what seemed like 5 minutes. "This is the restaurant where Johnny told me I was coming to L.A. to be on the Tonight Show with him," he said softly. The driver asked if he wanted to go in and Ed replied, "No, if it's okay with you I'd like to just sit here for a moment." Just then I realized that this was likely the last time that he would be here in this spot. How strange it felt to be in the car at that moment with a television legend. Later Ed and I talked about how easy it is to just be nice to people. He told me that since he would have been a nobody without Carson, he felt incredibly fortunate to have fans. Before one interview, the producer asked if they could talk to him about Britney Spears and all of her troubles. As a child, Britney appeared on Ed's show, Star Search and now he was her neighbor in L.A. Ed said, "I'd rather not talk about that if that's okay. I don't want to give the tabloids any more to write about that young girl. I wish her all the best." Class. Ed McMahon, who died June 23 at the age of 86, was a rock at Johnny Carson's side for nearly three decades. I was lucky to have a day with you sir. Thank you.

THAT WAS MY FRIEND

admin — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 19:11:16 +0000

I was a radio reporter working the sidelines at the Detroit Lions training camp with my friend Al Schafer, a.k.a. Big Al at my side. He was such a huge Lions fan that I pinned a press pass on him and told him I could sneak him on to the field. So there we were, just inches from Barry Sanders, Luther Elliss, and his favorite... Robert Porcher. Suddenly the play came directly in our direction, some of the world's largest athletes speeding right for us. I scrambled like a school girl to get out of the way. Big Al didn't flinch. After the whistle I said, "Dude, you're going to get killed!" He smiled and replied, "I think it would be cool for them to slam into a wall of Al!" That was my friend. Al passed away June 22 from a massive heart attack. He was only 37 years old. He was a big man with a big heart. He took care of everyone else and not enough of himself. But as the priest said at his funeral, "He squeezed a lot of life into a short amount of years." So true, but it does little to ease the pain of losing my friend. Honestly I'm not sure how to view the world without Al in it. It seems colder, less friendly, and different. I can no longer punch "Big Al" on my cell and hear him break down Sunday's game for me. When I visit my hometown, I can no longer drive over to his house to see his latest computer toys. I'll never again log onto Facebook and read about his plan to start an anti-social network where everyone is either rude to you or ignores you all together. That was my friend. Al became a member of our family. Have something heavy to move? Call Al. Planting some new landscaping? Call Al. Want to put some burgers on the grill and play video games? Call Al, no matter what, no matter when, no matter why. That was my friend. When my sister moved a few years back, Al and I were charged with getting her king-sized bed in the van. After figuring out that it wouldn't fit, we decided to put both mattresses on the roof of the van and tie them down. "Good plan," I thought and it actually worked - sort of. After running ropes through the open driver side and passenger side windows and tying them down tightly, we discovered we couldn't open the doors to get in! We laughed until we cried. When we got to her new house I stopped suddenly and the top mattress went flying off onto the ground. My sister never knew. That was us and that was my friend. I could write a hundred more stories. The places we went, the dorky things we did, and the non-stop laughter. I'll never have those things again, not like that, not like him. I thank God for the blessing, I ask Him to comfort me, and I hold onto the faith that Big Al and I will one day have a fantasy football draft in heaven. As Al would say, If there is such a place, it's going to have football, metal, and Sarah Michelle Gellar in it. That was my friend.

SIN, SECRETS, AND STONES

admin — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 15:03:53 +0000

"Step right up folks," the carnival man calls. "Get your stones...free stones for everyone without sin...C'mon folks don't be shy. Throw a stone at a former NFL MVP. Only those with no sin can play. Smack him in the helmet and win the stuffed animal of your choice." Anyone? Anyone? (cricket....cricket....cricket.) This week, former NFL Quarterback Steve McNair is being laid to rest and I'm angry. I'm not even a fan of his or the Titans and still...I'm angry. And you know what? You should be angry too. Four boys are without a father. Their mother has lost her husband -- her entire world shattered by a man living a secret life. A prominent African-American with a real voice in his community is lost forever. And once again a gridiron hero reminds us why we should not call them heroes. Upon learning of McNair's death, one fan wrote on her Facebook that this should remind us to "live each day as if it's our last." Really? That's your takeaway? That's not what I get from this horrible tragedy. The fact is Steve McNair was a warrior on the football field who chose not to be a warrior for his children or for his wife. The man who came just one yard short of winning a Super Bowl, came up miles short of doing the right thing. With that being said, save your stones. Who among us doesn't at times succumb to the countless array of temptations? Who among us hasn't done ungodly things? Who among us is so pure that they can slip on the judge's robe, slam the gavel down, and rule that Steve McNair got what he deserved? The answer is no one. "Live each day like it's your last." may make a great song lyric or Hallmark card, but may I suggest we be more concerned with how authentic our own lives are? We're always going to come up short, but the choices we make matter. For me it's as simple as deciding each morning to be honest with everyone around me, especially myself. I know that nothing can be hidden from God so I strive for authenticity. No one wants to be around a "claimer" -- someone who's always claiming things but never delivers. No one wants to tell lies to cover who they really are. It's so unnecessary and takes far too much energy. I'm angry and saddened over the loss of Steve McNair. They talk of how much good he did off the field, and yet I think of what he left unfinished with his four sons. Use this tragedy. Become more authentic. Look for areas where you've been hiding in the shadows and come on out. Your family needs you. Your community needs you. God needs you to be part of his rescue mission.

GRACEBOOK

admin — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 18:20:44 +0000

One day someone imagined a web site where you could create a network of old and new friends, share personal information, and even upload pictures of the times that bring you joy. They invented a place where you could announce to the world, no matter how random, exactly what you're doing and thinking at any given moment of the day. It wouldn't take long for 200 million users to sign on. Today I'm imagining something BIGGER. I'm talking about a more honest approach. A place you can go to share your REAL thoughts. Not just what brings you happiness, but what frustrates and angers you -- what you worry about, are ashamed of, and fear. A place you can go besides Google to get some answers. I'll call it...Gracebook. On Gracebook, the only "friend" you approve is God. You post messages only to Him. You don't have to be real specific since He already knows how many hairs are on your head (in my case that's not all that impressive by the way). It would take a lot less typing because He already knows how you feel and why. You wouldn't have to worry about birthdays since He planned for yours decades ago. Perhaps instead of telling everyone what's "on your mind" like: "I'm standing in line at the grocery store. I wish this idiot behind the counter would hurry up." God could give you an update, something like: "That lady behind the counter is a single mom who's consumed with worry because her five year old daughter isn't responding to treatment. She'd rather be home, but she has to work to pay the doctor bills." A few minutes later God boldly posts: "Please pray for her." When you first start using Gracebook you inundate God with questions on his Gracebook wall. Why don't you answer my prayers? Why do you watch me struggle? Why don't you help me make ends meet? How come I'm so alone? Each day you anxiously log on and hope that He answers your specific questions. One day God posts a simple question Himself: "You trust me with your eternal life, but not with these things?" Not everyone believes in Gracebook, in fact you could be laughed at by some people for wasting your time on it. It doesn't matter though because it's between you and the one friend you know loves you. One day, you log on and notice that God has posted a dozen or so photographs. They are the faces of children. Their beautiful, flawless, and innocent smiles shine brightly from your computer screen illuminating an otherwise dimly lit room. Underneath the albums you notice the title "Peace." A couple of days later you turn on CNN and see that a school bus has crashed in North Carolina. The fiery wreck kills 12 children. You instantly recognize the crash victim's photos on the screen as the ones you saw on Gracebook. You're still saddened but thanks to Gracebook, you know where those kids are tonight. Eventually you realize that it doesn't take a rocket scientist, or in this case a computer science degree, to understand that it's all about trusting Him. If you do that, then you don't need Gracebook. You have the Good Book and the invitation is always there to "log on" keyword: Faith.

HOW DOES YOUR UNIFORM LOOK?

admin — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:17:13 +0000

No matter what uniform you put on today, make sure by the time you get home tonight that it's dirty. Just ask Detroit Tiger third baseman Brandon Inge. Brandon played in this year's All-Star game in St. Louis. What makes that so great? Last year he hit .205 playing a position he hated on a last place team. His employer brought in someone else to do his job, in effect telling him that he's not good enough. Cleary not happy, Brandon didn't say much at the time. He didn't want it to affect the team. Today, at 32 years old, he has hit 21 home runs, has turned in some of the most eye-popping plays you'll ever see from a third sacker, oh and...he's an All-Star. After being voted an All-Star by the fans, Inge called it the greatest moment of his career. "I would have worked as hard, until I died, until I got to the point where I wanted to get," he says. "I'm still trying to get there." I'm sure Brandon had his "woe is me" moments. I'll bet his wife could tell you a few stories of the fist pounding that went on inside their home. But did you read what he said? "I would have worked hard until I died." Wow, instead of focusing on the negative, he showed up at the ball park every day with one objective in mind: to get his uniform sweaty and dirty. What lesson can we learn from that? We all face adversity. Obstacles are thrown in our faces each day. How does your uniform look? I'm a big Brandon Inge fan. I'm all about getting my uniform dirty. I'll never play in the Midsummer Classic, but I can be an All-Star dad, an All-Star husband, and an All-Star worker. Life is a lot like baseball. We fail more than we succeed, we make silly errors, and sometimes we get knocked right on our butts. But if we stay in the game and get our uniforms dirty, God will send us that hanging slider. The one that screams to be smacked out of the park. Trust that it's coming and have your best swing ready.

What If...

admin — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 18:50:58 +0000

Ever imagine God as a somber, even angry, old man who can't hide his disappointment in people? Ever just try and stay out of His way? Ever figure that an unanswered prayer means God is punishing you or worse yet, ignoring you all together? What if all that's wrong? What if God is so filled with love for us that He looks past our shortcomings and sees only the promise of reunion? What if He laughs when we're funny, weeps at our sorrow, and continues to believe even when we don't? What if God is able to read our hearts and knows exactly what we need and when we should have it? I love the scene in Evan Almighty where God (Morgan Freeman) gives Evan's wife new perspective on prayer. At this point in the film, she believes that her husband is nuts. She can't believe that he's ruining the family because God asked him to build an ark. She didn't even realize that her own prayer was being answered. [googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videosearch?sourceid=ie7&q=evan+almighty+god&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&oe=UTF-8&rlz=1I7GZAZ_en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=Pv2iSoHYB9P7tgfCl72bBQ&sa=X&oi=video_result_group&ct=title&resnum=9#sourceid=ie7&q=evan+almighty+god&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&oe=UTF-8&rlz=1I7GZAZ_en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=Pv2iSoHYB9P7tgfCl72bBQ&sa=X&oi=video_result_group&ct=title&resnum=9&start=10] The next time you talk to God, worry less about the words you choose or how eloquently you deliver them. He already knows. He is the rock that remains despite what crumbles around you.

No Giants

admin — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 02:31:52 +0000

One of the wonderful lessons in the book, "The Takeaway" written by Pat and Karyn Williams is the assertion that there are no giants out there. Think about that for a moment; no giants. It's so much better than teaching kids that they can do anything they want -- be anything they want. The fact is, not everyone can win eight gold medals, not everyone can become a Supreme Court Justice, and not everyone can become the president of the United States. But everyone can recognize that giants do not exist so they can proceed with confidence. I remembered this recently when I was in New York City surrounded by all of those magnificent and giant buildings. I had meetings with People Magazine, The New York Times, Today, Good Morning America, and others. Remember I was a scrawny, shrimp of a kid from a small Michigan town -- the kid who never got picked for the team. Suddenly I'm at the Today Show and Good Morning America suggesting show ideas to producers responsible for a combined audience of 12 million people? Ridiculous! Before I go into such meetings I think back years ago when I was a reporter. I have interviewed three presidents, governors, senators, star athletes, and everyday people. I take a deep breath, thank God for being where I am, straighten my tie, and walk in confident because there are no giants. Sure there are people with more important jobs than mine, people with more power, more influence, and bigger salaries, but they are still just people. They have many of the same fears I do; in fact they may not feel that they're smart enough or good enough to be in the room either! page 91 of The Takeaway: Everybody was a "nobody" before they got to be a "somebody." Keep this in mind as you prepare for your next interview, your next sales call, your next challenge. No matter how powerful the person on the other side of the desk seems to you, they were once the intern, the student, the "peon." They worked hard, got a few breaks along the way and now they do what they do -- just like you. Study them, figure out what you'd like to emulate or eliminate about the way they conduct themselves. You can achieve great things in a world void of giants.

Foundations

admin — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 18:02:37 +0000

One of the more positive aspects of the downturn in the economy is that it has forced us to reassess what's important, what's essential, and what's really stable. Too often foundations are built on money, cars, careers, designer clothes, status, power, and influence. There is nothing inherently evil about these things, but if you consider them entitlements rather than gifts, then they're just like soft sand and your house will surely crumble. Just look what has happened. We thought that our company-matched 401ks meant something. We thought we deserved that mortgage. We sunk our life-savings into fraudulent investments. More and more we expect the government to take care of us. We trust the wrong things. It's time to wake up. We should use this downturn to look up. The Bible tells us, "do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. Persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised." Hebrews 10:35-36 The key phrase there is "when you have done the will of God." Are you going your own direction expecting outstanding results? Look, I can't memorize Scripture. I can't quote you something written in the Psalms. I forget the characters and mix up the parables. But it's clear to me that what will enrich my life the most is if I pursue what God wants instead of what makes me comfortable. This week, really think about what you think about. You can ignore God if you want. He's been put on hold before and he'll wait, but consider whether that's wise. You need Him to restore your foundation. Ask yourself; are you confident or about to crumble?

Happiness: A Choice?

admin — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 15:25:13 +0000

Andy Andrews likes to tell people that happiness is a choice. The first time I heard this I thought he was crazy and a bit cheesy. My motivational-speaker radar was blipping off the chart and I folded my arms in defiance. You can't just choose your mood anymore than you can choose not to have a headache when in fact, YOU HAVE A HEADACHE! But dig in a little deeper. Consider this perspective: There are some people walking around with baggage from five, ten, twenty-five years ago! You can see it on their faces. You can hear it in their tone of voice. They feel they have made mistakes in their lives; they were treated unfairly, hurt, abused, or dismissed. All of which may be true, but their present-day attitude reflects a past that is gone forever. It's NEVER coming back. Don't you wish the airline would lose our baggage the way they lose our luggage? The fact is the scars of our past stay with us regardless of what we choose. However, our baggage should never dictate our current course; never define who we are today. LET IT GO. It can be done in two steps. Notice I didn't say two easy steps, they're not. 1. Forgive 2. Practice gratitude Remember this: Forgiveness is not for the person being forgiven, it's for you. It's not excusing the sin, it's saying that you're no longer holding on to it and that it no longer holds on to you. Forgive someone today especially if that someone is you. The seeds of depression, anger, and resentment cannot take root in a grateful heart. - The Noticer, Andy Andrews Be grateful for everything, even the smallest thing. The other day it dawned on me that I was running on my treadmill in my air-conditioned home, drinking clean bottled water, watching baseball on my flat-screen TV with my iPod in my ear listening to my favorite song -- ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Millions of people in the world will never have any of those things. I nearly dropped to my knees both in gratitude and in shame that I was griping the day before about not having some new things. Here's where it gets even more difficult; God tells us to be grateful for the struggle, and let's face it life can be a struggle. It goes against our very nature. How can we be grateful for hardships? Some of you are in great physical pain; some are depressed, unemployed, and feeling unwanted. Faith is the only thing I know that can combat this. The promise that if you stay in God and invite Him in you, that one day the struggle will be over and that indescribable joy will be yours. No one can be happy all of the time, but you can choose to smile, decide to do something kind, and dance when no one's looking. Today is a new day. Choose to ne happy.

Sixteen Years

admin — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 15:37:44 +0000

"The difficulty with marriage is that we fall in love with a personality, but we must live with a character." - Peter Devries August 7 my wife and I celebrated our sixteenth wedding anniversary. I can honestly say that Polly and I are happily married. This would not be so had I not gone to work on my character. Character is who you are when no one's looking. It was 1990. I was a club D.J. and Polly was a bartender. She thought I was funny and I thought she was hot. I went into marriage giving it little thought. All I knew was that I found a beautiful woman who was - and is - in an entirely different league than me — seriously, I am the Charleston RiverDogs and she's the New York Yankees. Marrying her just seemed like the thing to do, especially since there were always better-looking dudes lurking around like Jaws circling a surfer. Through the years it became clear to me that marriages can only survive if each other's characters are authentic and ever-improving. Mine was neither. Today, I may not have to check myself in the mirror before I see her and my heart may not skip a beat when she calls, but each day we're together I care more about her life than the day before. I recognize that our marriage is a gift that should never be taken for granted. Nine years ago, Emily and Megan were born and the word "love" took on a whole new meaning. Becoming parents strengthened and enriched our lives in ways I can not describe. I can only look up and give thanks. Polly, I hope I get sixteen more years with you since I'm just now getting it right. I pray that our girls continue to be happy and healthy and that one day they find the same kind of love that found us. I know you still think I'm funny and guess what? I still think you're hot. Chew on that...Jaws.

Travel Light

admin — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 19:51:08 +0000

Before you leave the house in the morning, grab that really heavy weight in the closet, under the bed, or in the basement. If you don't have one, stop off at a sporting goods store and pick one up. In fact, pick up a few—the heavier the better. Now, carry that around with you all day. Can you imagine? That would be difficult huh? Yet it's what most of us do every single day. These "weights" are our worries, our insecurities, and our doubt. Carrying them around with us is clumsy and cumbersome but we do it anyway. What if, since our arms are filled with this baggage, it precludes us from reaching out for or receiving love—the very reason we were created in the first place? What if other people's baggage impedes us from doing what God wants? Even Jesus Himself was confronted head-on with people’s baggage. In Matthew, Jesus was teaching in his hometown synagogue. At first He wowed the crowd with His wisdom and miraculous powers. But soon, the people He knew most—people He grew up with, people who knew His parents and His siblings—began to question His authority, His ability and His identity. The Bible says, "They took offense at him." Can you hear them? "Who the heck does he think he is?" The next line says it all: “And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith.” Matthew 13:58 Even Jesus—Jesus who carried absolutely no excess weights—was hindered from doing the Father's will when He encountered someone else’s weights—envy, jealousy, and doubt. So this week I'm asking myself; how is my baggage hindering me? How is it hindering others? Am I standing in God's way? Am I doing all I can to leave the baggage behind?

Just Another Number

admin — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 16:14:25 +0000

I think I've sort of "discovered" why so many people find themselves feeling downright ordinary. At the end of the day, too many of us feel like just another number; just another car in traffic, just another guy buying milk, just another employee in a cube. Am I alone here? I want to blame someone for this, but what if it's no one's fault? What if fixing this just requires some direction? Honestly, at times I'm just lost; unsure where to turn. I need help figuring it out. The other day my nine year old daughter was doing her homework. She was clearly troubled at the daunting math problems staring back at her and I offered to help. Clearly relieved, the expression on her face instantly changed and she said, "Daddy, I don't get it." She needed guidance and I was happy to show her the way. I wish I had that. I'm jealous of people who say they've been mentored; I don't even know what that is. Imagine someone patiently saying to you, "I want you to succeed and I'm going to show you how." How satisfying it must feel to have someone truly value you. I want that. Mike Krzyzewski, Duke's head basketball coach says that the fist-pound is more than just a manly expression on the court; the five fingers on the hand represent communication, trust, caring, collective responsibility, and pride. Metaphorically, the fist represents these five qualities as one. Coach K drills this into his team; he simply won't allow an individual to fail. Imagine being around that kind of leadership. I think we gloss over one of God's greatest commandments; to love one another. This goes well beyond what I do for my daughter, what my father did for me, or what coach K does for his players. It's about how we lift each other up. How we all win when we work together. Where do I find that? The search continues...

Perseverance

admin — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 16:44:14 +0000

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-hleR27U78&feature=related] Watching this year's Olympic games, I'm reminded of what it means to persevere. Every one of the amazing athletes that take part in games have doubted themselves or have been doubted by others. Yet, there they are on the world's stage. No matter what it takes. No matter how long it takes. No matter. BRICK WALLS I hear the word "no" a lot. It's the nature of my job. "No, we're going to pass." "No thank you, we're just not interested." "No, but we'll keep you in mind in the future." I'm going through a tough season right now where brick walls seem to be everywhere I turn. Brick walls are nearly impossible to break through, but they're not impossible to get around. Randy Pausch wrote: brick walls are not there to keep us out, they're there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. My friend Karyn runs marathons with her father Pat. Pat is senior vice president of the Orlando Magic. He began running marathons well into his 50's. Together, they ran in the Boston Marathon. 13 miles into the race, they were both struggling. Cramping up and nearly in tears, Karyn looked at her father and asked, "Why in the world are we doing this?" Her dad replied, "You know why I do marathons? Because this is how I practice not quitting." Let that sink in for a moment. He practices not quitting, and he practices a lot. Now 70, Pat has finished 52 marathons. Imagine if everyone quit after hearing "no." Think of the inventions that never would have been produced, the plays never given a stage, the books never published, the music never heard, the gold medal never won. I will get through this season. I choose to follow in the footsteps of Pat Williams and I will find my way around the brick walls. The word "no" simply can't compete with perseverance, persistence, and perspective.

Your Dreams

admin — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 16:24:54 +0000

"I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask where they're going and hook up with 'em later. - Mitch Hedberg, Comedian I know this guy who loves what he does for a living. Ask him how he's doing and he'll reply, "I'm livin' the dream brother." And he means it. I hate him...hehe. Are you on a quest to make your dreams come true? I am. Some already have while others remain elusive. Dreams are funny things. We desperately want our dreams fulfilled, yet as we get older many of us abandon them. We say things like, "Well, that was my dream, but now I'm living in the real world with real responsibilites." One morning I was having breakfast with my nine year old daughters, Emily and Megan. Emily was telling us about a dream she had the night before. "It was so fun," she said with the priceless enthusiasm of a little girl. "I was at the biggest water park ever, riding the "funnest" rides!" "But you're scared of rides," I reminded her. She looked up at me with a total straight face and said something I'll never forget. "Dad, you can control your dreams," she said. "I made mine fun." This took me by surprise. I turned to Megan and asked, "Is this true? Can you control your dreams too?" She said, "duh...of course!" I thought about this all the way to work that day. If you can control your night dreams, why not control your life dreams? Remember, you hold the keys to what kind of person you are and what you become. If you've abandoned this idea, consider coming back to it. We serve an amazing God. He uniquely designed you to design yourself. Author Max Lucado puts it this way: “You weren’t an accident. You weren’t mass produced. You aren’t an assembly-line product. You were deliberately planned, specifically gifted, and lovingly positioned on the Earth by the Master Craftsman.” Come back to your dream and make it happen.

Hoops of Hope

admin — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 21:43:39 +0000

Here's a slam dunk... God wants to use you Five simple words that could change your life. In the film City Slickers, Mitch (Billy Crystal) is riding a horse along side Curly (Jack Palance). "You want to know the secret to life?" Curly asks as he points his index finger toward the sky. "One thing, just one thing. You stick to that and everything else don't mean (squat)." "That's great," Mitch replies. "But what’s the one thing?” Curly, his sun-baked leathery face chomping on a cigarette looks straight into Mitch’s eyes and says, “That’s what you’ve got to figure out.” Have you found your “one thing?” God wants to use you. Meet Austin Gutwein In 2004, Austin was just nine years old when he watched a video that showed children in Africa who had lost their parents to AIDS. Austin says he instantly realized that these kids weren’t any different from him except that they were suffering. He felt God calling him to do something to help. "My dad turned off the video, but I couldn't turn off what was going on in my heart." Austin said. So he decided to shoot free throws—lots and lots of free throws. On World AIDS Day, Austin shot 2,057 free throws and raised almost $3,000. The money was used by World Vision to provide hope to eight orphan children. Today, thousands of people have joined Austin in a shoot-a-thon called Hoops of Hope. The results? More than $1 million has been raised. Children in Zambia, Africa left behind by AIDS now have access to food, clothing, shelter, a new school, and a medical clinic that could very well save an entire generation. Austin’s story is extreme and unusual, but what’s important is that he was tuned into a voice—the same voice that is speaking to you and me. God is putting people and circumstances in our paths. It’s the reason some of the other things in our lives feel empty and unfulfilling. It could even be why you’re reading this right now. Your “one thing” is to help people. It doesn’t have to be on some grand scale and you don’t need to tell anyone about it. Remember, lighthouses help to guide people through the darkness without making a sound. God wants you in the game. Check out Austin’s book Take Your Best Shot on Amazon.com. http://www.hoopsofhope.org/index.html

By George, He's Got It!

admin — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 15:29:05 +0000

The elevator doors open and out steps two-time heavy weight boxing champion George Foreman. As usual, he's smiling. Now 60-years old, his physical presence is as dominating as ever. You can't help but stop in your tracks and smile right back at him. Everyday people yell from the street "Hey champ!" or "Hey, big George!" As if they've known him for years. I recently spent some time with Mr. Foreman as he traveled to New York City to promote his new book, Knockout Entrepreneur. But this blog is not a book plug, my purpose is to talk about the man — what he preaches, how he lives, and what we can all learn from it. Big George has every reason to feel pretty good about himself. He's made millions as both a gifted athlete and as a savvy businessman, he's adored by people of all ages, and his travel is first-class all the way. Yet, ask him the most important thing he does and he'll tell you in one word — pray. Ask him the greatest thing that ever happened in his life and he'll tell you, "When God visited in me in the training room." Ask him about bad people he'll shrug his broad shoulders and say, "Awww yeah they're out there, but there's a whole lot more good people. Human beings are the greatest invention ever." No doubt, this guy gets it. I saw him in both private and public moments and I was taking notes the entire the time. For all of his worldly success, the man has found humility. "The moment you start thinking about how successful and great you are, the next step is down," he says. "Being humble isn't about thinking less of yourself, but rather thinking of yourself less." The reason George Foreman is such an icon is not because he won a gold medal, not because he was the oldest man ever to become heavyweight boxing champion of the world, but because of his belief in people, his integrity, and his humility are on display for the world to see. When I came home I had a renewed definition of what it means to be a success. Try this; approach each day by saying, "My time is coming. It might be today, or it might be tomorrow, but I know sooner or later, it will be my time to shine." Remember, you're a knockout! Thanks George.

The Trust Deficit

admin — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 16:16:49 +0000

President Obama spoke to students as the new school year began for much of the country. In the past, news of such a speech would have been met with a simple shrug and a yawn, but these are strange days indeed and it has little to do with politics. I believe it's an example of a trust deficit which is growing faster than the national debt. Think about it; why can't the president address our kids? What's the big deal? On one end of the spectrum you have the people who actually believe that President Obama has a master plan to indoctrinate our children on some socialist mindset to advance his agenda. On the other end you have people who would rather schools simply stick to teaching kids reading, writing, and arithmetic. In between (me included) there were those a bit uncomfortable with the original wording on the "curriculum" provided by the department of education that accompanied the speech. The bottom line is this: We don't trust our government. We don't trust our schools. We don't trust each other. The Trust Deficit. Aren't our schools supposed to be a safe environment where conversations and perspectives are encouraged and individual ideas flourish? Where teachers lead the next generation of critical thinkers to dig deeper, to consider differences of opinions, and to engage each other in healthy and diverse discussion? Isn't this the very idea of schooling? But we don't trust our teachers do we? Because of the trust deficit, some districts opted out of airing the president, some parents kept their kids home from school, and others asked that their kids be kept away from the broadcast. As a result, a real learning opportunity was missed. Make no mistake, our children are watching. Now, some mistrust is healthy—even necessary. I don't always trust a stranger with my young daughters. I hide my cash when I'm walking in New York City. I'm careful which street I walk down in Detroit. It's the unhealthy mistrust that concerns me. So what's the cure? Look up trust in the dictionary and you'll find this; Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing. As I see it each of us, from the president on down, needs to go to work on our integrity, our abilities, and on our character. Only then will the trust deficit begin to narrow. The alternative is to build bigger walls around ourselves and become more self-absorbed, to protest the unknown, and to spend our time glaring at our leaders and institutions with a mistrusting eye. Meanwhile the knocks on the doors of opportunity go unnoticed and we all lose. A sad commentary really.

Indestructable Faith

admin — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 20:11:46 +0000

On September 11, 2001, evil had its day. On that beautiful Tuesday morning eight years ago, terrorists carried out their acts of war, robbed families of their loved ones, and brought a great nation to its knees. Today we remember... Two days after the collapse of the twin towers, construction worker Frank Silecchia was searching through the rubble for signs of life, what he found was a symbol of hope. There in the midst of what must have felt like hell, were three sets of steel beams which had broken into the perfect shape of the cross, the largest of which was 20-feet high. The melted remains of a fallen firefighter's jacket is wrapped around the left arm of the cross. Experts call them I-beams. They say that pure physics are what made them break into their cross-shape. "It's coincidence" claim the naysayers, but don't tell Frank Silecchia that. "I felt a strange sense of peace and stillness. I could almost hear God saying, The terrible thing done at this site was meant for evil. But I will turn it to good. I fell to my knees in front of the largest cross. Tears came, and I couldn't stop them. I cried like a baby." The largest cross was removed from the wreckage, affixed by ironworkers to a permanent base. It stayed at Ground Zero for months after the attacks as an iconic symbol of hope and strength. Masses were held on the site each Sunday and people came to the cross for quiet reflection and prayer. There in the midst of turmoil, terror, mayhem, and confusion came this unmistakable sign of comfort. What can we take away from this in our own lives? What if God is with us no matter what horrible circumstances we're facing, no matter how much we've turned away from Him, and no matter what shambles we've made of our lives? When the smoke clears, will you notice the cross in the rubble? Will you take it out and prop it up for all to see? Today, at the site of Ground Zero, new life is rising from the ashes. Many years from now The Freedom Tower will stand tall. Memorials will mark the tragic events of September 11, 2001. The structures will be magnificent, but not nearly as impressive as those rusty steel beams pulled from the debris; a cross made of steel that seemed to say "Fear no evil for you are with me." Never forget...

We Need More 9/12's

admin — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 12:15:22 +0000

September 11th was and will always remain a day of mourning and remembrance. Memorials took place at the three locations scarred by terror attacks that killed almost 3,000. At sporting events around the country there were stirring tributes in honor of those lost on that tragic day. We paused for moments of silence. The names of the victims were once again read aloud, the sound of Taps being played brought tears to our eyes...and now we move on... I pray that we never again see another 9/11, but I wish we would see more 9/12's. Remember that day? We woke up feeling different about the world and our place in it. It was eerily quiet with no air traffic flying overhead, but the American flag was proudly displayed on our cars, houses, and businesses. We looked people in the eye with a reassuring glance—an unspoken whisper that seemed to say "we're all in this together and we're going to be okay." Even the crime rate went down, as if even the bad guys decided, "Not today." Remember Ed Fine? He was the man covered in ash trudging resolutely on, briefcase in hand immediately following the collapse of the South Tower. The powerful image appeared on the cover of Fortune Magazine. On 9/11, the 58-year-old investment consultant walked down 78 stories after the first plane struck the North Tower just 15 stories above him. Today he has new perspective. He says that before 9/11 he was a workaholic. On vacations, he used to spend "half a day on the phone and the other half on the computer." Now, "if I make one business call a day, that's a lot." He says he and his wife have learned more about each other in the past five years than in the previous 37. For Ed Fine every day is 9/12. At just 20 years old, Deora Bodley was the youngest person aboard Flight 93, she was a bright, idealistic student pursuing a double major in French and psychology at Santa Clara University in California. She volunteered for Special Olympics, took part in AIDS education, and helped children learn to read. Before September 11, 2001 the world was hers for the taking. Deora left behind a diary with a poem she wrote in 1992 at age 11 which reads: “People ask who, what, where, when, why, how. I ask "Peace." Wise words from a child whose Septembers ended far too soon; wise words for all of us to ponder as we decide how to spend our 9/12's.

God and Mom Were Right

admin — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 19:51:29 +0000

I called the hospital today to check on civility. It's still listed in critical condition. Vital signs are weak and...are you sitting down? The prognosis is grave. In the course of just a few days Rep. Joe Wilson interrupts the president by shouting "You lie!" He's reprimanded by his colleagues and called a racist by former President Carter. Serena Williams' expletive-laced tirade against a line-judge at the U.S. Open cost her the match and $10,000. At the MTV Video Music Awards, Kanye West grabs the microphone from a stunned Taylor Swift to declare that Beyonce's video was better. President Obama, in what he thought was an off-the-record conversation, tells reporters that Kanye is a "jackass." Just a bad week or should we send a sympathy card to civility's family? It turns out that mom and God we're right; Shut up! (or words to that effect) Mom always told us if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. God says: When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.- Proverbs 10:19 He who guards his lips guards his life, but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin.- Proverbs 13:3 Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue.- Proverbs 17:28 The lesson is clear; just because you feel something, doesn't mean everyone has to know it. I do not accept that a person cannot find the strength to smile on the outside while seething on the inside. Imagine what a peaceful week it would have been if each of these people would have just gone to a private room and screamed "YOU RACIST LYING JACKASS! BEYONCE IS THE GREATEST! I'D LIKE TO SHOVE A TENNIS BALL DOWN YOUR THROAT" into a pillow and then exited the room with satisfying grin on their face. You can do your part to save civility. Be kind and more often than not, be silent. That means don't talk on the cell phone in the checkout lane or in the restaurant. Don't litter and pick up someone else's when they do. Open the door for people. Wear appropriate clothing when you leave the house. Like mom said; it's all about manners. "Civility is close to morality," says Dr. Janie M. Harden Fritz, a professor at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh. "When we are civil to other people, then we are exercising restraint,” she says. “We are holding back our own appetite and looking out for the needs of others.” We have real issues in this country to address, serious problems to solve. Can we stop name-calling and just focus on the matter at hand? "I'm sorry" called, he's overworked and needs a vacation. And civility needs time to heal.

The Face of Grace

admin — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:10:56 +0000

"The good Lord has blessed me with a great journey" - Ernie Harwell What you're looking at is the face of grace—Hall of Fame Broadcaster Ernie Harwell. Bear with me if you're not a baseball fan, but this isn't about baseball. This is about a man who made a choice; the choice to live his life with passion and purpose, grace and gratitude—the choice to treat the company CEO and the peanut vendor exactly the same way; with kindness and respect. It's the same choice that's available to you and me. The very same week that politeness took a punch and decorum was dissed, Ernie Harwell is being celebrated for being Ernie. Ernie is 91 years old and he is at peace. His doctors have told him he has inoperable cancer. Time is short, his days are dwindling. Last week he received adulation and a few tears from two packed stadiums in Detroit. It was more of a thank you than a goodbye. In an uncivil age, virtue was applauded. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zYoBdmNYZPA&feature=fvw] Ernie will spend his remaining days eating as much ice cream as possible with Lulu, his beautiful wife of 68 years. He'll read the fan mail that pours in daily, he'll attend church services, and even continue to find ways to help people in need. He has received more than a 100 requests to appear or speak somewhere. "If I get well, people are going to think this was all a publicity stunt to get a little attention," Ernie jokes. Thank you Ernie. Thank you for that gentle Georgia Southern drawl that turned a little boy's room into a stadium every summer night. Thank you for the autographed baseball, and for the voicemail message. But most of all, thank you for being the face of grace. And they say there's no crying in baseball...

So, What's It Going To Be?

admin — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 16:21:15 +0000

Here's a revelation for you; life is hard. Aren't you glad you clicked here to learn that? Relationships are tough, money is tight, and sometimes I'd rather be waterboarded than be at the office. Navigating our way around life's potholes is difficult and I believe God designed it that way. We all have those woe-is-me thoughts; "I'm just not happy. I just don't feel passion for anything. I have no idea what I want to do." But here's the thing; you have a decision to make. Are you going to be a Tigger or an Eeyore? Randy Pausch asked that very question in his book, The Last Lecture. Randy had every reason to be an Eeyore, he was given six months to live; six months to say goodbye to his wife and three small children. So, what's your challenge? You remember the Winnie-the-Pooh cartoons. Tigger is hilarious. He bounces around and giggles at life's nuttiness every day. He's just plain silly. Eeyore is sort of a downer, a sad-sack. Each day he walks around with a dark rain cloud hovering over him. Ask him how he is and he'll respond with a low-key mumble, "Ohhhh all right I guess." Remember how Tigger liked to pounce on his friends? He'd scare the pants off of Pooh, Rabbit, and Piglet with a playful surprise "attack" whenever he got the chance. In one episode (yes, I have small children) Rabbit asked him to stop pouncing. "Stop it, just stop it!" he demanded. It's the only time I really saw Tigger down, when he was asked not to be himself. By the end of that episode they all decided that they like the old Tigger better and they gave him the green light to pounce at will. Now of course I'm not saying every minute of every day everyone can be Tigger, but ask yourself, what is the upside of being Eeyore? Many of life's challenges are within our control. How we respond to difficulties shape who we are. So who are you? Tigger? or Eeyore? What's it going to be?

The Dead Sea

admin — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:32:11 +0000

It is more blessed to give than to receive -Acts 20:35 Looks certainly can be deceiving can't they? The Dead Sea, located in the Middle East between Jordan and Israel, is among the most spectacular landscapes in the world. At first glance, you can almost feel how invigorating it would be to take a plunge in all of its inviting splendor. Only there's a problem; What the Dead Sea promises, it can't deliver. The truth is these waters are anything but refreshing. You can't drink it; in fact it's toxic if you do. The salt content is ten times that of the ocean. There are no fish, no plants, no visible signs of life in sight. Its salinity makes it possible for a person to effortlessly float on top of the water, but it is so thick and oily that you need a hot shower when you get out. Dead Sea is actually a kinder, gentler translation from the Hebrew name which translates to Killer Sea. Consider this perspective: The Dead Sea is dead because it doesn't give, it only takes. The Sea takes in millions of gallons of fresh water from the Jordan River and from several fresh-water springs. It takes from what little rain falls, yet it remains dead. The reason is because there are no outlet streams. The Dead Sea doesn't share. This strange body of water can actually teach us something: If we hold on to all we have. If we're selfish, demanding, entitled, and lazy, there is no life and we're not really living. Ever wonder why it feels so good to give? I mean, I love to get stuff as much as the next guy, but when I'm generous with my time, my money, or my help, I get a feeling of real satisfaction. When I compliment someone, simply thank my wife for cooking dinner, or hug my daughters I feel closest to God. "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another." - Jesus How many of our problems would vanish if we took those words more seriously? Today I'm looking in the mirror asking myself; am I doing enough? Unlike the Dead Sea, we can deliver on our promises, we just have to make some.

Scripture Sacked

admin — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 21:50:54 +0000

It has been a tradition for years in the small Southern town of Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. To motivate and inspire the team, the cheerleaders at Lakeview-Fort Oglethorpe High paint signs featuring Bible verses. Under the Friday night lights, in the glare of gridiron glory, the town's hyped-up heroes rush the field and bust through the sign...and the crowd goes wild. "It's just the kind of positive message that seems to have been appreciated by the community and by the school," explained Cheerleading Coach Susan Bradley. "There was no problem." Well now there is a problem. Someone thinks these words—this simple display of faith is somehow offensive and they complained. Unfortunately, the mere threat of a lawsuit is enough to scare cash-strapped schools into giving up before there's even a fight. The cheerleaders were told to cease and desist. As a result, a positive message of faith is sidelined and common sense is benched. "It broke my heart to have to tell those girls that they could not display that message on the football field," said schools Superintendent Denia Reese. "The problem with federal law is that the location inside the football field creates the impression that the school system is endorsing that particular religious message." Another victory for the separation of church and state crowd, another misuse of the first ten words in the First Amendment: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion..." Do you honestly believe that this is what the American fathers had in mind? Especially given the next line in the Amendment which reads: or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. The students and parents at LFO High are fighting back. There was a rally this week attended by more than 500 people. Several players were upset by the ruling and decided to hold a team prayer after they took the field last week. Thousands of words of encouragement are pouring in on Facebook http://tinyurl.com/yb4qhbq I say press on. This could be just a few faces in a new generation that rises above this nonsense. Stephen Mansfield wrote in his book, Ten Tortured Words "Perhaps now is the perfect moment for the reconsideration of our religious heritage and of the laws that have banished the wisdom of that heritage from our public life." Amen brother and go Warriors!

The Story of Your Life

admin — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 03:34:59 +0000

Every life is a story. Whether it is a story worth telling and talking about, though, is up to you. - Donald Miller, A Million Miles In A Thousand Years. I love this simple, yet accurate concept; that our lives are all about story. Each day, each week, each month and year is made up of short stories that make up one big epic. The story of your life. My friend Al died young. His story, while short and seemingly incomplete, was a series of sitcom-worthy moments that make for an overall entertaining tale of kindness and friendship. A story worth telling—a life well lived. And as the credits rolled on Al's story, I walked out weeping uncontrollably, but happy to have played a role in it. Recently while on vacation in Florida, I saw a young couple getting married on the beach. I thought about their story. It was just beginning for them and already it wasn't going as planned. Dark clouds, cold rain, and high winds were quickly moving ashore threatening their big day. I thought about this pretty young bride-to-be planning her most important of days. The tension and drama of poor weather were always present in this story, but she would press on as young people do. My feet sunk in the sand as I watched them exchange vows, pose for a few pictures, and then run for cover to party the rest of the night away in blissful celebration. Their story continues..the page turns. My daughters were nearby catching tiny fish in the ocean and I thought about their stories; the prominent role I'm playing in shaping them and the life-changing role they're playing in mine. I want their story to be filled with laughter, faith, adventure, and most of all; love. But I know I'm not the author of their story and I know that I can't solely write my own. Oh sure, I can write parts of it. I can decide where I'm going to live, how I'm going to eat, what I'll do for a living; but the ultimate writer of our stories is God. Imagine the great Writer penning His story for us. There are elements we wouldn't choose if it was up to us. We would make things a bit easier; add more vacations and larger bank accounts. We would write our stories leaving out the real meaningful experiences that make us stronger and prepare us for our future assignments. Don Miller writes: I believe there is a writer outside ourselves, plotting a better story for us, interacting with us, even, and whispering a better story into our consciousness. I think our stories go wrong when we don't acknowledge that we're not the primary writer. The saddest time in my life was when I inserted myself into someone else's story. It doesn't work. If we continue on our own, if we ignore the Writer, our story reads like the worst of novels, our movie becomes that faded-cover VHS tape in the dust-filled rack at the flea market. So how is your story looking? Consult the great Writer. Listen, obey, and let the pen write an extraordinary tale. It's never too late for you to begin. It can't be. Your story isn't over. The credits haven't begun to roll.

No Boundaries

admin — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 23:20:07 +0000

Imagine seeing the Earth as God sees it—from a distance. Its arresting beauty, its magnificent colors, and its lack of borders. The Bible says that God spoke the Earth to life. Imagine the power of His breath. Place yourself in the silence of space and envision the peaceful stillness. Only a handful of people have seen the Earth from afar. People who've traveled to space rarely discuss the incredible force of the rocket launch or the exhilaration of zero gravity. What really lights up their eyes is when they talk about the view. "The sheer beauty of it just brought tears to my eyes," says Anousheh Ansari who flew to the international space station. "If people could see Earth from up here, see it without those borders, see it without any differences in race or religion, they would have a completely different perspective." Astronaut Rusty Schweikert says "At the Mideast you know there are hundreds of people killing each other over some imaginary line that you can't see. From where you see it, the thing is a whole, and it's so beautiful. And you wish you could take one from each side in hand and say, "Look at it from this perspective. Look at that. What's important?" NO BOUNDARIES The very idea is fascinating to me. It's counterintuitive really. As people, we naturally place boundaries on things. We build walls and erect fences. We draw lines both literally and figuratively. We even place boundaries on God. I was talking with my self-employed brother the other day. Like many Americans he has run into some financial difficulties. One particular month he had to come up with a large sum of money in order to pay some bills. The situation was quite urgent. The clock was ticking. "So I got on my knees," he told me. Only he didn't pray for money, he just told God that he trusts Him. The next week he landed $80,000 in work. My first reaction—indeed my first inclination was to assume that my brother got lucky. I placed boundaries on God's power. How can I believe in a God that can breathe the Earth and all of its creatures into existence but doubt that he can answer a prayer? THE MASTER SCULPTOR Imagine your doubt as borders and erase them. Trust that the power to create this can do all things.

Leaving The Past Behind

admin — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 21:19:51 +0000

"There's no future in my past" - Karyn Williams, singer/songwriter I am fortunate in my life that I almost never have confrontations and when I do they are minor ones. There may be a little issue at the office here and there. Some words may be exchanged occasionally with my wife or a family member, but nothing major and nothing that can't easily be fixed (usually by me apologizing). Then out of the blue, it happened. I reconnected with an old friend and colleague through email and eventually on the phone. We do this maybe once every two months or so often regarding business. But on this particular occasion it got personal. I quickly discovered that our lives are so different; our priorities, values, and moral compasses pointing in such polar opposite directions that we blew up at each other. Who was right and who was wrong doesn't even matter. What is rather sad is that it appears a friendship, albeit a casual one is lost. But is that sad, or is that just the way it is? Is it simply an example of holding on to the past too long? The truth is men do not have a lot of friends. We have sports buds, work friends, maybe a small men's group, and other casual acquaintances. We have very few, if any actual friendships—other men we can really talk to, count on, and trust implicitly. I am blessed to have two such friends. Maybe there's a reason people move in and out of our lives. Maybe when we cling to what once was we're headed for disappointment. I am not the same person I was when I worked directly with this person; when we played tennis, went out to eat, or just hung out. He knows things about me that were true then but are no longer true now. The connection is lost. It probably happened a long time ago, we're just now realizing it. If we look at our lives as a story, maybe it's okay to leave this particular scene behind. It's not angry, it's just time. Today, amidst some feelings of loss, I can reminisce about the past, laugh at some truly hysterical moments, and be thankful. I also have renewed appreciation for the here and now; for the people around me who know and love me for who I am today. The past isn't so bad as long as we remember its place; as long as we keep it in perspective, check the rearview mirror every once in while and remember to keep looking forward.

Press Pause

admin — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 14:26:53 +0000

During a particularly hectic morning, I rattled off my usual list of demands to my daughters. "Girls, get dressed, brush your teeth, comb your hair, don't forget your socks," I yelled upstairs using my best dad-voice. We were running late for school AGAIN and fourth grade anxiously awaited. It was a dark and rainy morning, a thick fog lingered in the cold air. My mind raced as I thought of the crazy commute ahead and the pile of expectations awaiting me at my desk. I could feel the stress building inside me like the mercury rising in a thermometer. And then it happened. I walked out into the garage and saw my two nine year old girls skipping in the rain. They were giggling uncontrollably with huge smiles on their little faces. The driveway had become their stage and they danced without a care in the world. I only had a minute to soak this in, but I used every bit of sixty seconds to thank God for their lives. I honestly felt my knees weaken. Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows. - John Betjeman, British Poet (1906-1984) All the way to work I could not shake the image of my girls; their hair soaked in rain, each drop washing away what little cares they had. I wished that I could somehow bottle them up, shield and protect them from adulthood where that kind of joy so often gets lost. Being reliable, doing what must be done, the shackles of responsibility weigh heavily on us. Worry engulfs us like flames through a forest and it slowly blackens the soul. There are deadlines to meet, bills to pay, illnesses to deal with and people to be strong for. "Crisis," writes Andy Andrews, "we're either in one, heading for one, or coming out of one." Billy Joel called it pressure. But you will come to a place Where the only thing you feel Are loaded guns in your face And you'll have to deal with Pressure For those sixty seconds in my garage I pressed the pause button. I pushed pressure aside and got lost in the world of childhood spontaneity and sense of wonder. I watched my girls dance. When I pray, I ask God to help me grow up. Secretly, or not so secretly, I would like this to happen without actually growing up—without losing the essence of youth, the discovery, and the joy. Whatever challenges you face today, find a way to press pause; to push pressure aside. Your Father is watching you and He wants to see you skipping in the rain with a huge smile on your face, each drop washing away your cares...if only for a minute.

Outgrowing Fear

admin — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 15:08:12 +0000

Reflections... This year I turned 43. Just looking at that number on my computer screen, it just doesn't seem real. It's not that I think 43 is old, it's not. It's just that I thought it would feel different somehow. In so many ways I still feel like the undersized boy who rode his bike, hung out in junk yards, and pretended that he was a baseball star; the boy who was afraid of almost everything. I wonder if it's normal to wish I could do it all again only this time do it without the "F" word. Fear is like a faucet, it comes on all by itself and we never feel like we can turn it off. It's the elephant in the room. We all have fears but we pretend that we don't and we almost never talk about them. Financial fears, illness, your family's safety, change, death, loneliness—we all fear something. My fear was and is easy to pinpoint; the fear of failure, the fear of not having what it takes, the fear of not mattering. Feed your fears, and your faith will starve. Feed your faith, and your fears will. - Max Lucado Envision the day when we can trust more and fear less. Max Lucado asks, what if you could hover a fear magnet over your heart and extract every last shaving of dread, insecurity, or doubt, what would remain? For me what would remain is pure joy; joy unimpeded by worry; the very definition of heaven. What if God has his arm around us and He's whispering to us not to be afraid. Do we hear Him? Do we trust Him? There's an unforgettable scene in The Shawshank Redemption where Red (Morgan Freeman), who has served 40 years of a life sentence for murder, recalls his crime in front of the parole board. "I look back on the way I was then," he says. "A stupid, young kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are, but I can't. That kid's long gone." This little kid is long gone too but I want to talk to him. I want to tell him that he has nothing to fear and even if he does fall short it'll be okay, there will be a lot of successes along the way; that he does matter. I wonder, would the boy listen or does he need to outgrow his fears, learn to turn the fear faucet off and trust something greater?

How's Your Dash?

admin — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:07:35 +0000

I'm walking through a cemetery looking closely at the gravestones. I notice familiar names and wonder if I'm related. I take note of the dates and wonder how they died. As I continue walking several emotions run through me. I feel warmth at the sight of husbands buried next to wives and sadness at the occasional child's grave. I get a feeling of pride and gratitude as I pass by military graves lovingly marked with American flags. But most of all I notice the dash. Linda Ellis wrote: I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning...to the end. He noted that first came the date of her birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years. For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth... and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth. Since we overcomplicate so many things, what if this is the very key to a happier, more fullfilling life? What if, during seasons of feeling unimportant and insignificant all we need to do is doctor our dash? In this season of my life I have decided to think less about the date and more about the dash. I developed an eight-part dash diagnosis. 1. Am I the best husband and father I can be? 2. Am I growing in my faith? 3. Am I quick to anger? 4. Am I fun to be around? 5. Am I doing what's safe or taking some risks? 6. Do I do enough to help others? 7. Am I taking good care of myself; sleep, exercise, diet? 8. Am I using my God-given talents? What are your eight? Are you living your best dash? The second part of Linda's poem is most important of all. For it matters not, how much we own; the cars...the house...the cash. What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash. Have a great week and take time out to doctor your dash.

The Blueprint

admin — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 11:35:14 +0000

Love is a promise; love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear. - John Lennon It's 1961. President Kennedy utters the famous words "Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country." A gallon of gas costs .27 cents. If you aren't somewhere doing "the twist" you're probably watching "Mr. Ed" on TV or perhaps you're catching "Breakfast At Tiffany's" at the movies. Oh, and on November 4, these two kids tie the knot. April, 1961 my mom, a teenager at the time, hopped in the family's baby blue convertible Chevy and headed to McDonald's with her parents for dinner. My dad was a fresh-faced McDonald's employee. It didn't take long before he caught the eye of both my mom and my grandma. As he made milkshakes, he flashed a few smiles their way and that's all it took. My grandma said to her daughter, “That’s the kind of guy I would like you to marry.” A month later, in that same McDonald's parking lot Dad asked for her hand. 48 years later my parents celebrate their love and I celebrate their devotion. You learn a great deal from your parents; how they relate to one another; how they handle the inevitable difficulties; how they take care of one another. I have been watching. Today I'm unrolling God's blueprint, closely inspecting Mom and Dad's "chance meeting" at a McDonald's; how it resulted in my life and the lives of my daughters, my sister and my brother's lives, and the lives of his children. I stand in awe over the breathing blueprint from the Master Designer; a plan with a purpose. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. (1 Corinthians 13:4) What happens to love's flame 48 years after being ignited? Mom says it has never burned brighter. This doesn't happen by accident; it's patience rewarded, kindness practiced and repeated; promises fulfilled. Happy anniversary Mom and Dad. Your love for each other is surpassed only by the love God has for you both.

twins

admin — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 23:23:33 +0000

Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived. Weeks passed and the twins developed. As their awareness grew, they laughed for joy: "Isn't it great that we were conceived? Isn't it great to be alive? " Together the twins explored their worlds. When they found their mother's cord that gave them life, they sang for joy! "How great our mother's love is, that she shares her own life with us!" As weeks stretched into months, the twins noticed how much each was changing. "What does it mean?" one asked. "It means our stay in this world is drawing to an end." said the other. "But I don't want to go," said one. "I want to stay here always." "We have no choice," said the other. "But maybe there is life after birth." "But how can there be?" responded one. "We will shed our life cord and how can life be possible without it? Besides, we have seen evidence that others were here before us, and none of them has returned to tell us there is life after birth. No, this is the end. Maybe there is no mother after all." "But there has to be," protested the other. "How else did we get here? How do we remain alive?" "Have you ever seen our mother?" said one. "Maybe she only lives in our minds. Maybe we made her up because the idea made us feel good." So the last days in the womb were filled with deep questioning and fear. Finally, the moment of birth arrived. When the twins had passed from their world, they opened their eyes and cried for joy - for what they saw exceeded their fondest dreams. That is birth ... and that is death.

Keep Breathing

admin — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 14:36:38 +0000

"The Lord was grieved that He had made man on the earth, and His heart was filled with pain.” (Gen 6:6) I was thinking about the shooting rampage at Fort Hood, Texas. 14 people, including an unborn baby senselessly murdered, 30 others wounded, families forever damaged, forever changed. As I pray for the victims something mind-boggling occurs to me. Every single day we get news of violence and tragedy in our world. The stories run at the bottom of our screens like sports scores and celebrity news. It's everywhere and we're growing numb to it. Honestly, does anything truly shock you anymore? But here's the thing: Even with all of our news sources; 24-hour cable, newspapers, radio, and the web, we only hear about a fraction of the evil that goes on each day in the world. Think of it from God's perspective. He is keenly aware of every atrocity taking place at every moment on Earth—each life taken, each child abused, each young girl sold into slavery, every woman beaten and raped; every single injustice there is. If we felt the full weight of all of this knowledge, the grief would be so overwhelming that our hearts would ache beyond what can be described by words, the anguish too much for us to take. And so we hang on to faith and faith says that God knows what He's doing; that whatever plan He has for us must be so abundant, so flawless that He is willing to take this burden on for us—the burden of watching his children choose evil time and time again. The journey of belief is not straight, easy, or even logical. That is why in times of great sadness, when planes are flown into buildings and suicidal gunmen enter our schools, we hold onto an assurance that this is temporary. We stay in the faith, look for the beautiful colors and keep going. One day after the Fort Hood shootings, hundreds gathered for a candlelight prayer vigil on the base. Chaplain Douglas Carver chose some interesting words. What do you say at that moment? How do you cut through the grief? What hope can you possibly provide? As Fort Hood's families embraced, babies cried and old men in wheelchairs bowed their heads, Carver told them to remember to keep breathing....keep going ...and they sang Amazing Grace. The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be, As long as life endures. This is the promise. This is the faith. Keep on breathing.

The Peace Pursuit

admin — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 18:19:36 +0000

Oh road of freedom's peace, how can we find your way? Look to yourselves' the road will say I live in a quiet Tennessee neighborhood. No matter what time of day, save for the occasional low-hum of a lawnmower or barking dog in the distance, it's exceptionally...almost eerily quiet. Today on a warm, breezy fall afternoon, I'm sitting on my deck listening more closely, inching the volume up on the sounds of silence. Along with the birds' playful symphony, I can almost hear the leaves relenting, giving up their weakened grip and breaking away from the limbs they've called home. They float harmlessly down finding rest among their colorful friends. If peace has a sound, this is it. As Thanksgiving approaches, I've been tuning in more closely to the things I am thankful for; this peaceful sound is high on the list. It is not this way in many parts of our country or our world. We are perpetually at war; brother versus brother, religion versus religion, people versus people. Think about this, some children have no idea what quiet is—what peace sounds like. Right now, someplace in the world, where people haven't figured out that peace is the only battle worth waging; fear is the only sound a child knows. Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. (Psalm 34:14) Along with the usual New Year's resolutions; getting in better shape, reading more books, tackling the finances, consider seeking more peace in your life. Imagine how the world could change if everyone made this their goal. If we pursue peace at home, peace within, it can only spread peace throughout. Let peace settle into one place and let it carry us away.

Have a Little Faith

admin — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:53:50 +0000

Henry Covington sat in the darkness behind a row of trash cans just outside his home. Shotgun in hand, he had reached the lowest point of his life. Earlier that day Henry, a thief, a drug dealer and an addict, robbed his own dealers and they knew where to find him. Trembling in fear, he ordered his wife and young daughter to stay inside and he waited to die. So what did he do? The same thing most of us do when we're in trouble; he asked God to save him. "Will you save me Jesus?" Henry whispered. "Will you save me tonight?" I won't give away what happens in Mitch Albom's latest book, Have a Little Faith but I highly recommend picking it up. Having grown up in Michigan I have been a longtime fan of Mitch's writing. I've also been fascinated by his personal journey. In only 247 pages he pulls off an interesting thing; he tells several stories that appeal to both the seeker and the full-fledged believer at the same time. Have a Little Faith and Henry's story reminds us of what trusting God can do and let's face it, that's not always apparent. We get dressed up on Sundays and fill the churches acting like it's apparent, but if we're being honest we often trust God only to a point. We question everything and we long for proof—evidence of our own beliefs. In the end, a man who had never considered himself very religious or spiritual, concludes that God sings and we hum along...that there are many melodies, but it's all one song—one same, wonderful, human song. Two very big thumbs up. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live... (Ecclesiastes 3:12)

Strong Be-leaf

admin — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 17:20:59 +0000

I'm hanging out with my 9-year old daughters at the river near our home. This place is a kid's dream. There are all kinds of things to discover; cool looking rocks, strange-colored algae, lots of bugs, and the coolest thing of all...a real waterfall! I show off by skipping stones on the water. I'm not very good at it but to the girls, I'm the skipping-stones champion of the world and they beg me not to stop. Eventually they make up their own games. I watch as they place leaves one-by-one into the slow current then giggle with delight as the leaves take the plunge over the falls. This looked like fun. I picked up a leaf of my own and placed it into the murky water. My leaf is delicate, sun-baked, and brittle. It's fiery-red in color with splashes of yellow; its edges curled up just enough to resemble a boat. My imagination begins to run wild. I picture myself as a tiny person riding inside it. I'm the captain of my own leaf-vessel. There's almost no current, but I'm inching along all the same. I can't really tell you where I'm heading but I have faith that it's somewhere good—I just believe. I can't help but think about how much this is like our lives. Every day creepy bugs land on my leaf or hover above me—unwelcome visitors that keep telling me I'm crazy. "You're heading toward a waterfall and you'll surely die," they say. This scares me and I begin to second-guess myself. I begin to question my faith...but I press on. Each day obstacles are thrown into my path; rocks, branches, even other leaves with tiny people on them just like me. They're traveling a similar path, but they've decided to pass the time discouraging me. "You're heading for a fall," they warn. "Soon you'll go over the edge." But my belief is strong and I press on. Do you ever feel this way? Like you're on a fragile leaf floating down an uncertain river? Ever feel small, inadequate, even inconsequential as you float along—uneasy and unsure of your destination while outside forces discourage you and block your way? Here's what I discovered watching this play out: The leaves did go over the falls. It was a huge spiral downward and a violent crash at the bottom. And when it was over, the leaves were okay. After the great fall, after being submerged under water unable to come up for air, they re-emerged quickly and pressed on only this time in much calmer waters. Just like our lives. Here's the truth: If we continually find the courage and strength to stay on our leaves; if we maintain the faith that we're going somewhere good and ignore those who would discourage us, we can survive our falls. All we need is our strong be-leaf.

Laughter-soaked Walls

admin — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 23:26:03 +0000

Steve Johnson, one of the truly great people in my life, once wrote on his Facebook that years of laughter have soaked the walls of his home. What a beautiful sentiment. This Thanksgiving season I'm thinking about all the fun and the love that goes on at our house and I'm thanking God for it. I imagine what it must sound like from just outside our front door. The priceless girly-giggles when the tickle monster rears his goofy head. The ear-piercing screams and the stomping of little feet as Emily and Megan dance to the blaring sounds of Hannah Montana; two precious girls enjoying their innocent childhoods. Their worlds are filled with fairy tales, butterflies, and dollhouses — just as it should be. Walls soaked in laughter. Last spring my wife and I decided to brighten up the cathedral-style entry way of our house. Appropriately we chose a color called “Fools Gold.” Out went the bland, beige walls. In came a spectacular splash of brilliance. In the hallway leading to the girl’s room, Polly entertained the kids by painting a big yellow smiley face over the beige as they looked on, busting out in high-pitch laughter. Everyone knew that in just a matter of minutes a fresh coat of gold would cover the entire wall and Smiley would be no more. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. When the hallway was completely covered and the paint had dried, I took a step back and admired our work. Then I noticed it; if you look real closely you can still see the outline of that huge smiley face. Two coats of paint didn’t completely cover it! At first I was upset because the job is not perfectly finished. "I'll have to sand that whole area and start over," I said, clearly annoyed. But after reading Steve’s Facebook, I have a new perspective. Maybe the job is actually quite perfectly done. Perhaps a smiley face is exactly what should be there. Maybe it's a perfect symbol of walls soaked in laughter. What's going on inside your walls? Remember that trouble is always lurking just outside the door. Fear and uncertainty are constantly banging to get inside. But the welcome mat doesn't have to be out for the world's nonsense. It's up to you whether or not to let it in. I choose to let it wait. I'll deal with the outside when I have to. No matter what I fall short on in life, no matter how many times I try and fail, there's one thing I know for sure; my home is filled with peace, love, and fun...and the walls are never thirsty.

Smudges

admin — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 19:00:13 +0000

One of the most powerful things I've ever read is a true statement written in a fiction book. In The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom writes: All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Five words that absolutely stunned me; all parents damage their children. As a father, my first reaction was to pound the table and confidently declare, "Never! Never would I damage my daughters!" But then I read on: Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair. Wow. If that doesn't challenge parents I don't know what will. It's not fair, but the situation we're born into goes a long way to determining how hard our road will be. We all know adults still dealing with their smudges, maybe you're one of them. This time of year I often hear people talk about their parents and how they hope to escape the holidays without new smudges or having old wounds re-opened—the first cut is the deepest. I never want that for my family. I think of my daughters as delicate blank canvasses; pure potential thirsting to take colorful shape. Polly and I are providing all the supplies they need—a strong foundation on which to build. We're helping them hold their brushes. Eventually we will let go and allow them to flourish. Along the way we will listen, love and laugh. Parents need to realize that when they hurt their children with their words or their actions, they're standing in the way of exquisite works of art. Smudges on the canvas. Tennis-great Andre Agassi was badly smudged by his father. He writes about it in his autobiography, Open. It is, at times, difficult to read. He writes: I never doubted my father's love for me, but I wish he would have been softer, listened more, and had less rage. Smudges. Agassi has forgiven his dad and vows to do better with his own children. I admire him more for that than for his incredible tennis. You don't even have to be a parent. If you have any contact with a child; aunts, uncles, teachers, mentors. Listen, love, laugh; be softer. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers.

Mere Grinchianity

admin — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 20:50:15 +0000

Now that December is here it is now legal to dig out the best Christmas cartoon ever, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Seriously, how much of a genius was Dr. Seuss? Time and time again when he transported his strange thoughts onto paper, something magical happened. 52 years later the story remains as charming as ever. Like most of Dr. Seuss's writing there is a clear moral to the Grinch story, but if you dig a little deeper you'll find there is so much more; Let's call it Mere Grinchianity. From the very beginning we see that the Grinch isn't very nice to be around. He's a miserable loner living high atop Mt. Crumpet. Not even his dog Max brings him the least bit of joy. He cares for no one, and he assumes no one cares for him. The story says that his heart was two sizes too small. I get the feeling that this was no genetic defect. Isolation can shrink anyone's heart. We're created for relationships and we're required to love one another. Love one another, even as I have loved you - John 13:34 The longer the Grinch remained alone in his cave, the more his heart shrunk, creating envy, jealousy and hate for the Whos. Did you notice what ticked off the Grinch most of all? It wasn't the who-pudding, the roast beast, or all the noise NOISE, NOISE NOISE! Those things clearly annoyed him, but the thing he liked least of all was a simple display of love—love he sadly wasn't a part of. Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Whos would start singing! After the Grinch stole all of the Whos' decorations, presents, and food he couldn't wait to hear their misery. He put a hand to his ear to relish the sounds of sorrow. But of course there were no tears because the Whos know that Christmas is about love—the birth of a Savior, a spiritual blessing in Christ. No, the Grinch could not stop Christmas from coming, it came! Somehow or other, it came just the same! That is when the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. “Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!” I love when he comes to this realization; the stress on his face is replaced with a smile, his darkened heart sees a luminous light, and the weight of his hate lifts off of him. His heart, as the story goes, grew three sizes that day. That kind of transformation can only take place when we realize that we are loved unconditionally. Christmas is a magical time of year. It is a time for giving and for receiving the ultimate gift of grace. When we accept this gift and allow God to grow our hearts, we'll have the strength of ten Grinches, plus two. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.

No Greater Gift

admin — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:38:59 +0000

I've been thinking about my friend Al often these days. Mostly because it's football season and one of the sport's more fervent fans isn't here to talk to. It's also Abominable Snowman time—a character that ranked right up there with the Tasmanian Devil in Al's book. When he passed away last summer, I wrote that I cannot imagine a world without Al in it. I pictured a colder, less friendly place, and I was right. I don't mean to, but sometimes I allow the memory of the horrible day I carried my friend's casket to fog the reflection of his kind heart and our fun times. Today, on what would have been Al's 38th birthday, I received a gift that helps lift that fog, if only for a time. A box arrived in the mail last night—a box containing some of Al's things; reminders of a big kid. A Barry Sanders action figure, a pair of Tasmanian Devil Christmas ornaments, stuffed animals for my daughters whom he adored, and even a couple of CDs for me to listen to him doing the radio show that he loved so much. It's Big Al's revenge since he knows I hate that kind of music. The package was sent by Al's sister Tammi and I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. Not only did I smile at the random things in Al's house, but the fact that I got this gift on his birthday is fitting. If you ever had the pleasure of meeting him, you'd understand why. Al gave more than he ever received. The world is a colder, less friendly place without Alan Schafer in it, but when these gifts arrived in the mail, it was a warm reminder that the memories we leave behind help us to live on. My kids will hang their "Alnaments" on our tree, they'll take their new stuffed friends to bed tonight, and Al will ride to work with me in the morning—he and his beautifully strange music. No greater gift. Cherish those closest to you. Happy birthday Al. Thank you for your friendship. Tammi, thank you for your kindness, it must run in the family.

Hooks and Hope

admin — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 15:31:48 +0000

Ever notice how impossible it is to unpack the Christmas decorations without also unwrapping memories of Christmas past? Our "Baby's First Christmas" ornament is already in its tenth year. The hand-made elves date back some 40 years. Grandma's wooden nativity scene is in the same box as Hallmark's 2009 Grinch featuring the famous green-one tooting his own horn (I guess you can do that when you're the legend of Whoville). Christmas is just such an odd mix of old and new; A beautiful blend of tradition and today. Don't you wish you could remember, in vivid detail, at least one childhood Christmas? It's strange how we forget most of our days. I suppose in some cases our amnesia is a blessing, but wouldn't it be nice to recall a special Christmas; who was there, how it felt, the way it tasted? Don Miller wrote: life isn't memorable enough to remember everything. It's like were all watching a movie waiting for something to happen. Well something does happen on Christmas, magic happens—magic that can't quite be captured by a camera. Pictures and video are mere facsimiles of feelings. Maybe it's okay that my daughter's Christmases will all meld into one happy childhood memory. Maybe it's all right that they won't remember every toy, doll, and stuffed-friend Santa brings. The most important thing Emily and Megan will come to know is what Christmas means; that the first ornament wasn't a Grinch, but a bright star in the Eastern sky. The first present wasn't a doll, but a baby's cry, and the first Christmas carols were sung by angels on high. No wonder we love Christmas so much. Incredibly we can still feel the warmth of that Eastern star today. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given. Maybe the odd mix of tradition and today isn't so odd after all. Hope, born so long ago, remains, and love can still be seen in every child's eye. If you could, What Christmas would you like to go back and revisit and why?

December Warmth

admin — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 21:15:34 +0000

"Momma always said dyin' was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn't." - Forrest Gump Before she passed away, my grandma crocheted me an afghan. I think of her every single time I'm covered with it. It's amazing how someone who's been gone for years can still make me warm, comfortable, and happy. That must be how my friend Roxanne feels about Christmas. Six short years ago she celebrated the most special day of the year in a hospital room with her mom. She dressed her children in their holiday best and off they went—off to brighten Christmas for Grandma. She never dreamed it would be the last Christmas they would share. There was no fancy tree. No holiday feast. No shiny gift wrapping. What was present in that room was the greatest gift of all; the gift of love. December warmth. Incredibly, Roxanne says, "It was by far the best Christmas ever." If it were possible to go back to that day, even for five minutes she would like nothing more. Despite her loss, she feels grateful for the time—grateful for the day. And she knows a reunion is being planned. December warmth fueled by faith. I am falling into grace To the unknown to where you are And faith makes everybody scared It's the unknown, the don't-know That keeps me hanging on and on and on to you - "Unknown," - Lifehouse Christmas: it's not about the gifts we buy but the gift offered to all of us. It's about the birth of a child, the assurance that we don't walk alone. There's reason to rejoice. I was deeply touched by Roxanne's story. It is filled with both hope and perspective; faith that brings comfort. Like the comfort of being wrapped in an afghan crocheted just for me many years ago.

Tiger

admin — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 16:51:17 +0000

What I'm about to say may not be popular but here it goes: I'm praying for Tiger Woods and I'm worried about him. I'm not a golf fan. In fact, everything I know about Tiger Woods could probably fit into those little zippered pockets on the side of a golf bag. I know he's the best in the sport and that he was the first athlete to make a billion dollars. He is admired for his laser-like focus under pressure on the course and he was revered for his perfect-looking life off the course...then came the fall. Dirt Stains The Squeaky-Clean Image I have steered clear of most of the coverage of this "story" because I get it; Tiger cheated. It appears he cheated a lot. I don't need the salacious and titillating details that the media salivates at bringing us. I get it. He's human; a broken man who must find a way to pick up the pieces for himself and for his family. The truth is he's no better or worse than you and me. You can talk yourself into believing you're superior, but you're not. There's no leader board for sin with Tiger's name at the top. A New Tiger Tale Here's the truth; if Tiger doesn't look up he'll continue to be down. His failure is going to weigh more heavily on him than the pressure of any putt ever did. Just think of it. He looks into the eyes of a wife he disrespected. He knows his children will one day be ashamed of what their father did. He let down the fans and his sponsors. He even failed his deceased dad who once prophesied that his son would one day transcend the sport and make the world a better place. That's a lot of shame to overcome. Without God I'm afraid Tiger will fail. Jesus, The New Caddy The good news for Tiger is that this can be done. Peace can be his again. God wants to put us all back together. If Tiger humbles himself before God, his sins will be thrown into a sea of forgetfulness. This is something we're not capable of doing. When Tiger returns to golf we'll judge him as a cheater, but God will see a new man who happens to be a great golfer. Forgiving himself will be the hardest thing Tiger has ever faced—harder than any tournament he's ever entered. It will not be easy for him to even look in the mirror. Healing will require more attention to detail than any shot he ever made but with God all things are possible. I'm praying for Tiger Woods and I'm worried about him.

Under Construction

admin — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 16:23:38 +0000

If I could address a room full of recent high school or college graduates, I would decorate the stage like a construction site. It would be lined with orange cones and those big barrels with blinking lights on top. Behind me there would be a huge yellow sign that reads "UNDER CONSTRUCTION." Wearing a hard hat and one of those fluorescent green road crew vests, I would approach the podium and tell kids what no one ever told me: that it's okay that you're not sure what your story is going to look like. It's not written yet. You are under construction. There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly. ~ B. Fuller We're all drawing our lives with a pencil without the benefit of an eraser. The results aren't always pretty and sometimes we wind up crumpled up, tossed to the floor next to an overflowing trash can of crumpled-up "tries." And you know what? That's okay. In his autobiography Open, tennis-great Andre Agassi says, "I think older people often make the mistake of treating younger people as finished products." To this day people think Aggasi transformed from a punk to a pro. "The truth is I didn't transform, I formed," he writes. I think that's a very powerful message that young people need to hear. drench yourself in words unspoken live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins the rest still unwritten "Unwritten" ~ Natasha Bedingfield This is a message for people of any age. If your story isn't finished, then it's still a rough-draft. If you don't like the direction you're going, change it. Crumple it up and toss it. Ask God what he'd like you to do. Believe that he'll show you the way. He wants you to grow up. He has a mission for you. "We're blocks of stone, out of which the sculptor carves the forms of men. The blows of His chisel, which hurt so much, are what makes us perfect. ~ C.S. Lewis 2010 is almost here. Make this the year that you take a step in a direction YOU need to go. If you're crumpled up on the floor next to the waste basket, get up, straighten up, and realize that you have a clean slate. Today is where your book begins, the rest still unwritten.

Thoughts From Mt. Crumpit

admin — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 17:03:44 +0000

One day I awoke feeling as though I was high atop Mount Crumpit. I stared down from my cave with a sour, Grinchy frown. My shoes tightened around my toes as I stood in the snow hating what I saw below; my daughters are growing up too fast Megan and Emily haven't quite reached ten, yet they're turning into young ladies before my eyes. The very thought of this made me turn green. My eyes started to yellow, my pupils turned red. I growled, my new grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I must stop this whole thing! I must stop them from growing, but how?" Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny have all been exposed. After only a few years of playing significant roles in the fantasy that is childhood, their runs are nearly over. I can't protect them from disappointment. I can't shield them from truth. The magic has passed. "Now that they're growing I know just what they'll do," I snarled with a sneer. "They'll stop believing in castles... They'll question their prayers... They'll stress over clothes....over makeup...and hair... They'll worry about grades, their future, and all the boys BOYS BOYS BOYS!" After puzzling and puzzling 'till my puzzler was sore, I thought of something I hadn't before... Though no one quite knows the reason... my heart for my girls grows with each season... It's nobody's fault and there's no one to blame... they'll grow, and they'll grow, and they'll grow just the same... No reason to be sad, sour, or sore... as great as they are, they'll become so much more... And what happened then...? Well...I can honestly tell you... I gained the strength of TEN DADDYS...plus two! I love you Emily and Megan. Slow down if you can.

2010: A Light Year

admin — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 13:11:26 +0000

If you're reading this you should know that this is your year. Excuses have been deleted from your contacts list, unfriended from your Facebook. This is your time. What would you like to do better in 2010? If you're reading this then you woke up this morning. You've been given a gift greater than any you recently unwrapped. You've been given a chance. These excuses how they're so familiar They've kept me small They've kept me blocked They've kept me safe inside my shell ~Excuses, Alanis Morissette You can't wait any longer. The time is now. Who cares how long you've put it off or that you've failed in the past? If you enter a dark room and turn on the light, does it matter that the room was dark for a month, a year, or a thousand years? No. What matters is that it's light now. Now my imagination Is the only thing that limits The bar that is raised to the heights ~Excuses, Alanis Morissette There's a line in the movie The Golden Child: "You Americans.. so much power and so little understanding of what to do with it." I believe this to be true of all people. We underestimate all that we can do. Charles Stanley writes, Even the angels stand in awe at what God has made available to you, placed in you, and provided for you. If you ignore that as "Sunday morning talk" then you'll miss your year - again. 2010 can be the year; the year you discovered your God-given talents. The year you stopped and asked Him for directions. The year you declared "These excuses have kept me small, kept me blocked, kept me safe inside my shell." It's dark in that shell isn't it?

What is Success?

admin — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 22:24:34 +0000

Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value. - Albert Einstein Recently I left a meeting in New York shaking my head. I was pitching a story idea to a major national magazine. The story is about a prominent top executive of one of the largest corporations in America. As a ten year boy, his family arranged for him to escape communist Cuba and begin a new life in America. It would be four years before his mother, father, and sister gained legal passage to the U.S. This boy was sent to a foreign country scared and alone. The obstacles he overcame to get an education, build a career and a life in the states are truly remarkable. I was passionate about this story. I looked the managing editor in the eye describing in full detail why this tale had to be told and why her magazine should be the one to tell it. I was dismissed in under 5 seconds. The editor said, "Good story, but seriously...who is he and who cares? You got anything else?" After the meeting I sat down in the middle of busy Columbus Circle. The forever constant big-city noises faded into the background. I watched people hustling along, cell phones in hand, ipods in ear; people to see places to go. And I thought... who am I? Who is that girl...that guy? Who is anybody? And who cares? As people, we judge others by some definition of success that comes from who knows where. Is Tiger Woods a success? Was Elvis? How about Britney or Michael Jackson? Would you trade lives with them? The world saw actor Michael J Fox as a huge success. He rose to fame playing Alex P. Keaton on the sitcom Family Ties and starred in the blockbuster Back to the Future trilogy, by all accounts Fox had it all. Now suffering from Parkinson's disease, Fox writes in his memoir, Lucky Man that at the height of his popularity he lived a sheltered, narrow existence fueled by fear made livable by insulation, isolation, and self-indulgence. Then he says something that is truly incredible: If you were to rush into this room right now and announce that you had struck a deal-with God, Allah, Buddha, Christ, Krishna, Bill Gates, whomever—in which the ten years since my diagnosis could be magically taken away, traded in for ten more years as the person I was before—I would, without a moment's hesitation, tell you to take a hike. Wow. I'm not big on resolutions, but I will make this the year that I discover more about myself; about the way I measure success; about the way I judge others. It shouldn't take a life-threatening illness before we sit down, let the forever constant noises around us fade into the background, and realize that our definition of success matters as does the journey towards it. What is your definition of success? Have you reached it?

Lost Connections

admin — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 15:46:01 +0000

As connected as we are today, ever notice how disconnected we've become? I was saddened recently by a tiny article that appeared in a Detroit paper. The headline read: FORMER TIGER DEAD AT 50. I didn't know Frank Williams, in fact I barely remember him. He only pitched for Detroit during one season, the dreadful 1989 team that lost more than 100 games and finished in last place. What's heartbreaking is how lost he was before his death. Williams was an orphan who grew up in foster homes in Seattle. Despite his rough start and the immense odds, his powerful right arm carried him all the way to the big leagues. He earned more than a million dollars in a relatively short career, but by the time he died all of his money was gone. He wound up a street-level addict, bouncing around homeless shelters and detox centers. It sounds like a movie, only this story has no happy ending. Dead at 50—lost long before that. How does this happen? Did people simply stop caring about him? Despite all of today's technology designed to connect us, we're as disconnected as ever. Imagine how many Frank Williams' there are out there—people who never pitched at Tiger Stadium; never had thousands of fans cheering for them; never struck out some of the world's greatest athletes. Just faces in the crowd, people on the street. My faith tells me that God cares deeply for each and every person. He created us with unique gifts that we must discover and use. I believe that He knocked on Frank Williams's door often. I'm not sure if Frank ever answered. What if we made it a point this year to be more connected with people? What if we asked someone how they're doing and meant it? What if we listened more carefully, seized the opportunity and made a difference? Your brother may need you; your husband; your wife; a friend. Or maybe it's you. The lost can be found. It only takes one to reach one. I wonder what it was like for Frank. Imagine lying on the floor of a homeless shelter, feeling sicker than you've ever felt, recalling the days when you put on a baseball uniform. The fresh air, green grass, and blue skies—the look on that boy's face when you tossed a ball to him. And then you pass out. Life is so precious. Our time here so short. How about a new challenge? To watch for those who are lost; to find them; to answer that knocking door.

Robertson Is Wrong

admin — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 21:03:27 +0000

Christianity; I chose it because it spoke truth to me. As strange as some Bibilical stories sound, as difficult as it is to follow what happened, when it happened, who it happened to, and why it matters now, I feel in my heart that it's the truth. After becoming a father I felt it even more strongly. I now understand what it means to love unconditionally. The thought that God feels that way about me warms me to the soul. Knowing what Jesus did for me is bigger than words can describe. Faith also tells me that God is not angry. To believe that He is angry would mean that what Jesus did was not enough. To believe that God is angry is to not have belief at all. With all of his religious training and professed belief, Pat Robertson just doesn't get it. Before the dust could even settle on the horrible tragedy unfolding in Haiti, Robertson told his 700 Club audience that Haiti "swore a pact with the devil" to become free of the French therefore, in effect, they're cursed. The earthquake is God's wrath. Forget for a moment that Mr. Robertson is confused about real history; he is doing a disservice to Christianity. He is slapping faith in the face. His program airs in 95% of the TV markets in this country. It is viewed in more than 70 foreign languages. It can be seen in more than 200 countries and is accessible by more than 1.5 billion people around the globe. People look to religious leaders for comfort and solace, guidance and perspective during times of tragedy. In this case Robertson provided none of that. When he makes these outlandish comments he turns more people away from the faith than he does towards it. So I say with respect, Mr. Robertson please reconsider what it is you think you know. The fact that you're also asking for money for relief efforts means nothing—nothing if you can't represent the faith when people need it most. How much more good could you have done if you had looked into the camera and told your expansive audience, "It is natural to question God. We don't know why things happen on our dangerous planet but faith tells us to trust God. Know that He is weeping today and draw closer to Him." Mr. Robertson, people are hurting, tens of thousands are dead. You have been blessed with a large stage and you're abusing it. Donald Miller writes: an appropriate response to Haiti: “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.” Amen.

The Encouraging Word

admin — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 20:58:46 +0000

It happens to me every January to one degree or another and it usually lasts for a few weeks; I seem to sputter a bit, my energy and drive for my work goes missing. Suddenly the rabbit in me goes all tortoise; there's an Amber alert out for motivation. Know the feeling? This week I received a boost from a total stranger. A note that read simply: You are a great publicist. I am a friend of a person you represent and he is lucky to have you on his side. Reading this gave me a huge boost. It reminded me of something that Duke Basketball Coach K tells his players each year: "I BELIEVE IN YOU." These four words can mean the difference between a fear of failure and the courage to try. If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else ~ Booker T. Washington Here's where I'm guilty; I can complain all I want that I don't get enough of this encouragement from the people around me. Then I try and recall the last time I gave that same encouragement to others and I couldn't. Oops. Feeling this lull in energy I went back and read what former Indianapolis Colts Head Coach Tony Dungy says in his book, Quiet Strength. The Super Bowl champ drilled these principles into the Tampa Bay Buccaneers—a horrible team he took over in the 90's. • Be a pro • Act like a champion • Respond to adversity; don't react • Be on time. Being late means either it's not important to you or you can't be relied upon • Execute. Do what you're supposed to do when you're supposed to do it ALL THE TIME • Take ownership • Whatever it takes. No excuses, no explanations If you do these things consistently, the encouragement will come. If you build people up, you'll be built up. If you listen more carefully and do less reacting, you can have a positive impact. Talent is God-given; be thankful Praise is man-given; be humble Conceit is self-given; be careful ~ Dave Driscoll And so, despite the sputtering, I press forward remembering that God has placed me exactly where I am for a reason. It's up to me to execute. Whatever it takes. No excuses, no explanations. Dungy writes, within our spheres of influence at work, in our neighborhoods, in our families He wants us to touch lives wherever He leads us. With God's help, we have so much power; power to change the course of someone's day, week, month, or life. Use that power wherever you are whether you're going full speed or sputtering into the New Year.

The King

admin — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 20:08:18 +0000

If Elvis Presley were alive today, he would be 75 years old. Can you even imagine a 75 year old Elvis? It's almost impossible to erase the indelible image of the king as he was when it all began—the sexy, sultry, hip-swinging Elvis who drove parents crazy and the girls wild; the man who revolutionized rock 'n' roll and gave new meaning to the word "star." This past week I was in Memphis, Tennessee. I saw Graceland. I visited Sun Studios where Elvis cut some of his biggest records. And I gained new perspectives from people who knew Elvis well, including my new friend George Nichopoulos, Elvis's doctor. I asked "Dr. Nick" what does he think Elvis would be doing now had he not died so young?" Without hesitation he replied, "Well, he wouldn't be in a rocking chair, that boy could never sit still. I'm sure he would be singing Gospel music and I wouldn't be surprised if he became a minister." Something about the way Dr. Nick said that; the confidence in his voice really hit me. I felt the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up and I thought, maybe that's exactly what Elvis is doing right now. Ever wonder why God puts people like Elvis on Earth? I don't believe it's an accident. The people I was with in Memphis remain deeply loyal to him more than 30-years after his death. They quickly steer conversations away from the tabloid-Elvis, choosing instead to focus on his fun-loving, generous, and deeply spiritual side. So much time has passed, yet Elvis' life is still touching the lives of others including mine. How come? On the 3-hour drive home my thoughts were all over the map. I imagined what Elvis might think if he were present in the room as his friends reminisced about him in front of a perfect stranger in a little Memphis barbeque restaurant. Late in his short life, Elvis it seemed, was a tortured soul. His fame was so great that it restricted him. He was both rich and poor, rarely alone but always lonely. Perhaps worst of all, Elvis could never rest. Eventually he hoped that swallowing a pill could cure what ailed him, and his health faded fast. Friends say since he rarely slept he often read the Word. He had a deep curiosity about the afterlife. So what if? What if his rest finally came? What if one night Elvis closed the door to his room and said to God, "I know they call me the king, but we both know who the real King is. I'm ready to sing Gospel music full time for you if you'll have me." And what if God replied, "I can still use you on Earth even if you're not there anymore." Precious Lord, take my hand Lead me on, let me stand I'm tired, I’m weak, I’m lone Through the storm, through the night Lead me on to the light Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home ~ Elvis 1957 I'm not a big Elvis fan, but I am a fan of finding peace. What if Elvis Aaron Presley came face to face with God and admitted he was just a man? What if we did the same? The King awaits...

Super Controversy

admin — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 23:29:25 +0000

Uh oh... A Super Bowl ad is about to make some people very uncomfortable. CBS has approved a 30-second spot purchased by Focus on the Family. The ad features University of Florida star quarterback Tim Tebow and his mom, Pam, who chose to ignore doctors advice to abort a potential problem pregnancy and, resting on her faith, carried Tim to term. Tebow says he wants to honor his courageous mother and highlight his religious conviction against abortion. "I don't feel like I'm very preachy about it, but I do stand up for what I believe," Tebow said. Uh oh...... The opposition has already come out swinging. The Women's Media Center, which hasn't seen the ad, calls it "anti-choice" and says that it's "outraged." They're demanding CBS spike the spot. "It uses one family's story to dictate morality to the American public," the group argues. "The ad encourages young women to disregard medical advice, putting their lives at risk." UNBELIEVABLE. My question is this: if this group is pro-choice, what's wrong with CHOOSING to bring a baby to full term? Why the outrage? In his 22 short years, Tim Tebow has already touched thousands of lives—lives that would have gone untouched were it not for his mother's CHOICE. Why in the world would the public need to be shielded from a woman who CHOSE life, especially when the fruits of that life have been so impactful? Are we so narrow-minded in this country that we can't allow someone to express their beliefs, even if they pay handsomely for the right to do so? Speaking of choice. Isn't it CBS's CHOICE how they sell air time? The Super Bowl is about money. Focus on the Family had to cough up more than 2.5 million dollars for the spot. Do we really expect networks to reach out to individual advocacy groups to make sure a planned spot is in line with their politics? Abortion is legal in this country. It will be legal after the Super Bowl as well. What is the pro-choice crowd really afraid of? I applaud Tim Tebow, not just because I agree with him, but because he has genuine conviction—conviction that has already cost him millions of dollars. He is making the most of a life that is a direct result of his mother's CHOICE. "I know some people won't agree with it," Tebow said. "But I think they can at least respect that I stand up for what I believe..." Don't count on it Tim.

Hey, I'm Not Invisible!

admin — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 00:52:27 +0000

Ever feel like running towards the window, tossing a chair through the glass and screaming, CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?! At home you're the bad guy. "No, no, no, I said put that down!" "I want it quiet up there!" "No TV until your homework is done!" "What the heck happened to this room? Clean this mess up!" Even the dog doesn't seem to hear you. At work when you speak up, you're shut down. Your ideas too often fall on deaf ears. Your creativity isn't appreciated, your talent not utilized. Even when you're right, you're wrong. No one seems to care about your problems, deadlines, concerns, or fears. You're another dude at a desk, another cog in a cube. If you quit tomorrow they'd send you off with a luncheon, a slice of cake, and cup of bad punch and that would be that. This is why relationships, REAL relationships are so important. Everyone has tough days at home. And work is...well, work. If you're not investing enough time in REAL relationships and activities outside the office and home you're bound to feel frustration, sadness, even anger. When we're void of meaningful relationships we're more likely to run to that window and scream or worse, jump. I know...I'm there with you. "People are valuable because they're human, not because of what they do" - Meg Meeker, M.D. I was feeling particularly discouraged this week when I opened an absolute MUST-READ for fathers. Dr. Meg Meeker's Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters. When I read Dr. Meeker's description of how girls feel about their dads, my perspective rapidly changed. Meeker writes: I want you to see yourself through her eyes. And I don't want this just for her sake, but for yours, because if you could see yourself as she sees you, even for ten minutes, your life would never be the same. ____________________ Your daughter gets up in the morning because you exist. The epicenter of her tiny world is you. Friends, family members, teachers, professors, or coaches will influence her to varying degrees, but they won't knead her character. You will. Because you are her dad. ____________________ She can't feel good about herself until she knows that you feel good about her. So you need to use your authority carefully and wisely. Your daughter wants someone who is wiser and steadier and stronger than she is. I closed the book and took a deep breath. Home isn't always filled with warm fuzzies and ice cream sundaes and I have found that work will invariably disappoint and discourage. Relationships, like the ones I'm developing with my daughters however, shape who I am as I help shape who they'll become. It really is all that matters. Being a hero to them. Building an unbreakable bond. Being their dad. It's my most important job. It doesn't pay, there are no vacations or sick days, but the benefits are amazing. So when I find myself boiling over like a pressure cooker, I'm going to fall back on my relationships; family, friends, and most of all God. When we do this we're never invisible and we can look out the window, and leave the chair where it is.