Delight prevents jealousy

Delight prevents jealousy

Kate: How can you do that? Jack: What? Kate: Look at me like you haven’t seen me every day for the last 13 years. This is my favorite line from one of my favorite movies, The Family Man. It was shot before Tea became Secretary of State and Nicholas Cage went crazy. On the surface, this movie is about second chances. It’s a modern-day Christmas Carol with a twist. But if you dig a bit deeper, it is really a movie about delight. Specifically delighting in your marriage. The Proverbs talk a lot about delight and jealousy. Forgotten wisdom of the past paved over by our present prosperity. See, the world continually calls you to the rocky shore with its siren song. To the Maseratis and the Playboy bunnies. To a Target addiction disguised as grocery shopping. Drip drip drip. The cutting of the Colorado River one drop at a time. Just an upgrade. Next season’s model. I deserve it, don’t I? We are consumers being consumed. And the price of our prosperity is dissatisfaction with everything. Our wife, our kids, our house, our car, our job, our church. But we are not called to desire more from out there, we are to delight in what is in here. “Rejoice in the wife of your youth.” Proverbs 5:18 Delighting is a choice. To tell your wife she is the most beautiful. To take the time to share that inside joke from work because you want to see the smile on her face. To bring her into your inner world, yes even that part, because you delight in her. She is jealous. For...
I am Ashley Madison

I am Ashley Madison

My hand was trembling. I fingered the smooth stone just light enough to throw and heavy enough to cause some real damage. This was the moment my uncle had been waiting for. His nemesis had been traveling through our town and stirring up trouble. Calling me and my friends “whitewashed tombs” was all we could take. Something needed to be done. – I didn’t know her name but her reputation was well known. And setting the trap was easy Like a team of US Marshals busting into the safe house of an escaped convict, we dragged her out into the city square. I picked up my stone. My uncle began, “the law of Moses commands us to…” I gripped my rock so hard I could feel my heart beating through it. I bit my lip and tasted the sweet and salty blood. This man they call Jesus didn’t say a word. Instead he crouched down, stretched one finger towards the ground, and began to write. I recognized the letters of my own name. He was writing a list. My list. 1. My best friend’s wife. 2. That girl from the market. 3. My username and AshleyMadison.com password – The stone slipped out of my hand and fell to the ground. I turned and walked back home. John 8:3-11 – – But what can be done For an old heart like mine Soften it up With oil and wine The oil is You, Your Spirit of love Please wash me anew With the wine of Your Blood -Keith Green, My Eyes Are Dry – I hate to admit that my first...
How to ruin a vacation

How to ruin a vacation

I really blew it last year. Every summer we vacate to a little cabin on an island on a lake in Ontario, Canada. The scenery is pristine (except for the occasional horsefly) but the best part is that the Internet is really hard to get to. Back home, with a daily life consisting of waking up to check Instagram (instead of checking Instagram when I wake up), refreshing Facebook at least 12 times per day (seriously, I once wore a livestrong-type bracelet and would move it to the other wrist when I checked Facebook. This habit didn’t make past 5pm when I had already refreshed Zuck’s self-image reinforcer at least a dozen times), and an email inbox that even Marie Kondo herself would give up on emptying, not having the Internet sounds like the perfect escape. So last year, just like every year, we spent the 24 hours in the car (16 hours driving plus 8 hours of bathroom breaks) to head to the Land of Moose (I saw three this year) and no Internet. Except, I had just started a new business doing ONLINE MARKETING less than six months before. And, I took on a client I didn’t know much about but who desperately needed my help launching a new online program DURING my vacation. I should have said no. Looking back, I actually had two no’s to choose from. I could have said no to my family like this, “Guys, I just started my business and am still figuring out how to best serve my clients. Going somewhere with no Internet for two weeks would be a...
Hey! Where’s my reset button?

Hey! Where’s my reset button?

Growing up I loved to play video games on my original Nintendo Entertainment System. But after a few hours of gameplay, the cartridges would get dusty and the game would freeze. There were two main fixes for this. 1. Pressing the reset button repeatedly until the game started working again. 2. Physically ejecting the game cartridge and blowing on the exposed computer chip as hard as you could to remove any accumulated dust. Surprisingly both of these strategies worked. Every kid knew that. Looking back, I wonder how we discovered these two methods. I’ve also confirmed that neither of these methods were mentioned in the original NES manual. I imagine that the “blowing strategy” started with one person. Somewhere in Idaho, there was an 8 year old who couldn’t figure out how to get Zelda to work again. Poor Timmy. No matter what he did, the game just wouldn’t work. And then casually, his dad brushes past him to grab another six pack from the downstairs fridge (I imagine all 80’s dads as alcoholics with large basements) and slurs, “it’s probably dusty. Just blow on it.” Timmy looks up with his tear strewn face and his desperation to reconnect with his father, shrugs his shoulders, and blows as hard as he can on that grey plastic game. And like a light shining down from heaven through the cornfields and cinderblock walls, Zelda appears. And Timmy can begin again. Our lives are like that Nintendo game. We get stuck in a routine. Another summer comes around and we look at ourselves in the mirror before heading to the neighborhood pool. “Oh my word. How did this happen?” We enter the...
We think we can until we are told we can’t.

We think we can until we are told we can’t.

We think we can until we are told we can’t. If you ask a class of kindergartners if they are artists, they will all raise their hand. Ask the adults at your office and no one will. Something along the way or more accurately someone told them that they can’t. Perhaps it was a crew up here and sixth or seventh grade. Maybe a well intending parent telling them, “let’s be more realistic.” Or maybe it was life experience. A stumble. A fall. A scraped knee and a bruised ego. You hear people talk about childlike wonder but it doesn’t make it much further past fifth or sixth grade. Even the dreams of teenagers and 20 somethings are filtered. When you look through the lens of what is possible you won’t see very far. To do anything great, you need to question basic assumptions. And tell yourself the reason they say I can’t is because they were not able. Most kids haven’t picked up at baggage yet. They don’t know what is and what is not possible and so they assume all things are. And oh to have the childlike wonder, the child like faith, to say yes when the world is screaming no. To stare my impossible in the face and say bring it on. — @WordSwag. #WordSwagApp #quotes #motivation...