I woke up at 5 am to the sound of Reveille blasting over the loud speaker, just as I had every morning for three straight months. The difference was that, on that day, I wasn’t going to roll out of the rack for training or inspection. On that morning, I would march across the parade deck with hundreds of other guys and finally earn the title “Marine”. The three months leading up to that were just a proving ground. That morning was the payoff.
No one earns the privilege of being part of the world’s greatest fighting force flippantly. You pay for it. With blood, sweat, pain (otherwise known as weakness leaving the body), and honestly, a part of your identity. When I left the parade deck of MCRD San Diego, I was no longer the same person I was when I arrived. I couldn’t be.
Along with that reality comes a gamut of emotion that is easy to recall, yet difficult to express. Those who have been there know what I mean. On the day you become a Marine, and every day following it, there is a sense of pride. There is a sense of entitlement. There is a sense of security in my abilities and an astute sense that I can do anything.
But more than that, I believe, is a sense of truly, and finally, belonging to something much bigger than me.
Today, fifteen years later, I’m again part of something bigger than me. But this time, it’s not something I earned. I didn’t pay for it with my blood, sweat or pain. This time, I’m experiencing what Jesus paid for with his own blood, sweat and pain. And because of that, I’m no longer the person I was before I met him. I can’t be. Now, my identity is wrapped up in who he is. And there is no greater security than that!
In the Corps, I had a sense of entitlement and pride for what I had earned. As a Christian, I have a sense of humility and thankfulness for what Christ did for me.
July 31, 2010
July 29, 2010
Books
There's just something special about books. I don't even care which books. Good books. Bad books. Thick books. Thin books. Old books. New books. (this is starting to sound a lot like Dr. Seuss’s “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish”! )
They can be books that are fiction or not. Books about people or the past or business management or dead athletes or corrupt politicians or extinct empires or farming or mountain climbing. There's something powerful that happens when I'm immersed in the words and thoughts of other writers. Even the ones that aren't from writers. It's hard to explain, really.
There are times when I walk the aisles of a bookstore and become almost melancholy because there's not enough time to read them all. But at the same time I'm excited that there are so many opportunities to discover new thoughts, study different perspectives or examine unique angles on old, familiar topics.
But there's one book that captures all of the emotions, desires, needs, cares, hopes and fears I can ever have. It's a collection of thoughts, perspectives, angles, words, sentences and paragraphs that is unmatched by any other book. It's the book that changes me every time I read it.
No other book gives me the hope and promise of life like this one. None of the characters and stories found on the shelves of a bookstore compare to those found in the pages of this book. And no book scares me as much. Because it's the book that shows me who I really am. And no book inspires me more. Because it’s the book that shows me who I am meant to be.
It's the one book that equips me and challenges me and reminds me and defines me—all at the same time. If you haven't read this book lately, I would challenge you to pick it up... again, or for the first time. Start “in the beginning” and read all the way through, “Amen.” Because it's written by the greatest author there could be; and there is so much there for you to discover. I'm pretty sure you know which one it is...
They can be books that are fiction or not. Books about people or the past or business management or dead athletes or corrupt politicians or extinct empires or farming or mountain climbing. There's something powerful that happens when I'm immersed in the words and thoughts of other writers. Even the ones that aren't from writers. It's hard to explain, really.
There are times when I walk the aisles of a bookstore and become almost melancholy because there's not enough time to read them all. But at the same time I'm excited that there are so many opportunities to discover new thoughts, study different perspectives or examine unique angles on old, familiar topics.
But there's one book that captures all of the emotions, desires, needs, cares, hopes and fears I can ever have. It's a collection of thoughts, perspectives, angles, words, sentences and paragraphs that is unmatched by any other book. It's the book that changes me every time I read it.
No other book gives me the hope and promise of life like this one. None of the characters and stories found on the shelves of a bookstore compare to those found in the pages of this book. And no book scares me as much. Because it's the book that shows me who I really am. And no book inspires me more. Because it’s the book that shows me who I am meant to be.
It's the one book that equips me and challenges me and reminds me and defines me—all at the same time. If you haven't read this book lately, I would challenge you to pick it up... again, or for the first time. Start “in the beginning” and read all the way through, “Amen.” Because it's written by the greatest author there could be; and there is so much there for you to discover. I'm pretty sure you know which one it is...
July 28, 2010
I want to live, thank you.
We were 13,500 feet above the surface of the earth in an airplane that resembled little more than a metal can with indoor/outdoor carpet on the floor. No seats. No friendly flight attendants offering $3 beverages. No pressurized cabin or in-flight movie. Just an opening on the side that was the size of a single-car garage door.
There was a tap on the shoulder, a 3-count, and then…
When I decided to go skydiving, a friend of mine asked me if I was going through some kind of midlife crisis. It was an understandable question. But I wouldn’t say that’s what my freefall from the sky was about. It was more the product of a realization.
The last few years I’ve begun to see more and more that I’ve only been given one life. Sure, I’ve always had an intellectual awareness of that fact. We all do. But through several circumstances and situations, I’ve really begun to see that life is a gift. And I’ve started to ask myself if I’m making the most of it.
As I sit here looking at all that God has blessed me with, I have to wonder: have I done all I can to thank him for it? I mean really thank him. Not just with words, but with actions.
We would all admit that it’s important to say “Thank you.” But I believe the true essence of thanks is found in action. It’s when we appreciate something so much that we are willing to squeeze every drop out of it.
In his first letter to the Thessalonians, the apostle Paul challenged them, “…in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
In everything. Not just in words, but in actions as well. In other words, we’re to make the most out of life.
Think of a hot summer day. You’ve just walked inside after hours of doing yard work. And there on the counter is an ice-cold glass of clear, refreshing water. And standing next to it is your wife, smiling. Of course you say “thank you.” But you don’t stop there. You pick up the glass and gulp it down. You don’t take a little sip, nod your head and then walk away. You enjoy every single drop.
Am I saying that the only way to show appreciation for life is to strap a parachute to your back and jump from 2.5 miles above the earth? No! But I think we do need to ask ourselves, “What am I doing to show my appreciation for this life?”
Are we simply trying to skate by, looking at each day as something we have to endure? Or are we looking to attack every moment as voraciously as we can and show others that what God has given us is a precious gift to be thoroughly enjoyed?
I don’t want to just say “thank you.” I want to live, thank you.
There was a tap on the shoulder, a 3-count, and then…
When I decided to go skydiving, a friend of mine asked me if I was going through some kind of midlife crisis. It was an understandable question. But I wouldn’t say that’s what my freefall from the sky was about. It was more the product of a realization.
The last few years I’ve begun to see more and more that I’ve only been given one life. Sure, I’ve always had an intellectual awareness of that fact. We all do. But through several circumstances and situations, I’ve really begun to see that life is a gift. And I’ve started to ask myself if I’m making the most of it.
As I sit here looking at all that God has blessed me with, I have to wonder: have I done all I can to thank him for it? I mean really thank him. Not just with words, but with actions.
We would all admit that it’s important to say “Thank you.” But I believe the true essence of thanks is found in action. It’s when we appreciate something so much that we are willing to squeeze every drop out of it.
In his first letter to the Thessalonians, the apostle Paul challenged them, “…in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
In everything. Not just in words, but in actions as well. In other words, we’re to make the most out of life.
Think of a hot summer day. You’ve just walked inside after hours of doing yard work. And there on the counter is an ice-cold glass of clear, refreshing water. And standing next to it is your wife, smiling. Of course you say “thank you.” But you don’t stop there. You pick up the glass and gulp it down. You don’t take a little sip, nod your head and then walk away. You enjoy every single drop.
Am I saying that the only way to show appreciation for life is to strap a parachute to your back and jump from 2.5 miles above the earth? No! But I think we do need to ask ourselves, “What am I doing to show my appreciation for this life?”
Are we simply trying to skate by, looking at each day as something we have to endure? Or are we looking to attack every moment as voraciously as we can and show others that what God has given us is a precious gift to be thoroughly enjoyed?
I don’t want to just say “thank you.” I want to live, thank you.
July 24, 2010
Do You Ever...
... meet people who challenge you to become a better person?
... wonder what dogs think when you throw a ball for them?
... ask God what the meaning of life is?
... marvel at the reality that you’ll never really know it all?
... burn your tongue so bad that the rest of the drink is ruined?
... think you’re just one big thought away from a breakthrough?
... want a second chance?
... change your shirt 5 times before you leave the house?
... say something so dumb that it astounds yourself?
... wish you lived somewhere else?
... drive too fast?
... dream so big that it’s impossible to accomplish it on your own?
... dream so small that it’s not worth accomplishing at all?
... look at a mountain and think, “I can climb that.”
... sit and stare at the grass or trees or trash blowing in the wind?
... wonder what people in Beijing or London or Montreal are doing right now?
... want to ask a question, but don't know how?
... doodle during a meeting?
... hope your kids will be happier than you are?
... walk around downtown just for a different perspective?
... eat too many Oreos too late at night?
... laugh out loud in public because of a thought you had?
... think the dog looks at you and thinks, “What were you thinking?”
Sometimes I do.
... wonder what dogs think when you throw a ball for them?
... ask God what the meaning of life is?
... marvel at the reality that you’ll never really know it all?
... burn your tongue so bad that the rest of the drink is ruined?
... think you’re just one big thought away from a breakthrough?
... want a second chance?
... change your shirt 5 times before you leave the house?
... say something so dumb that it astounds yourself?
... wish you lived somewhere else?
... drive too fast?
... dream so big that it’s impossible to accomplish it on your own?
... dream so small that it’s not worth accomplishing at all?
... look at a mountain and think, “I can climb that.”
... sit and stare at the grass or trees or trash blowing in the wind?
... wonder what people in Beijing or London or Montreal are doing right now?
... want to ask a question, but don't know how?
... doodle during a meeting?
... hope your kids will be happier than you are?
... walk around downtown just for a different perspective?
... eat too many Oreos too late at night?
... laugh out loud in public because of a thought you had?
... think the dog looks at you and thinks, “What were you thinking?”
Sometimes I do.
July 23, 2010
Willing to Write
When people ask me what I do and I respond that I’m a writer, I often wonder if they really get what I’m saying. After all, what is writing?
Webster defines writing as, “the act of a person or thing that writes.” Not sure about you, but I think that’s a cop out. That’s like saying that running is the activity of a person or thing that runs. Or that breathing is the action of a person or thing that breathes.
Writing is much more emotionally charged and spiritually driven than that traditional, scholastic explanation. It’s more than simply the act of one who writes, because it’s more organic, more fluid, more alive.
I think a better definition of writing is: the desperate attempt of a confused craftsman to communicate his (or her) emotions, beliefs, experiences, convictions, sense of humor, imagination or perspectives in such a way that anyone willing to read it can actually begin to feel it.
When someone writes, they are opening up their soul and displaying the very nature of their being on the page. And it doesn’t matter what they write – blogs, blurbs, novels, poems, plays, songs.
To move an idea from your head to the page takes courage and a willingness to subject yourself to any number of reactions – from praise to ridicule to apathy (which is worse that ridicule). It’s a humbling act that either results in clarity or cloudiness. And it’s a desperate plea to communicate something so intimate and personal that most people shy away from ever really writing anything at all.
The reality is that all of us could be writers. The question is, are we willing?
Webster defines writing as, “the act of a person or thing that writes.” Not sure about you, but I think that’s a cop out. That’s like saying that running is the activity of a person or thing that runs. Or that breathing is the action of a person or thing that breathes.
Writing is much more emotionally charged and spiritually driven than that traditional, scholastic explanation. It’s more than simply the act of one who writes, because it’s more organic, more fluid, more alive.
I think a better definition of writing is: the desperate attempt of a confused craftsman to communicate his (or her) emotions, beliefs, experiences, convictions, sense of humor, imagination or perspectives in such a way that anyone willing to read it can actually begin to feel it.
When someone writes, they are opening up their soul and displaying the very nature of their being on the page. And it doesn’t matter what they write – blogs, blurbs, novels, poems, plays, songs.
To move an idea from your head to the page takes courage and a willingness to subject yourself to any number of reactions – from praise to ridicule to apathy (which is worse that ridicule). It’s a humbling act that either results in clarity or cloudiness. And it’s a desperate plea to communicate something so intimate and personal that most people shy away from ever really writing anything at all.
The reality is that all of us could be writers. The question is, are we willing?
July 5, 2010
July 4, 2010
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