As a case in point, I went to the mall last night with my wife, daughter and two 4-month old twins to do some light shopping. We parked our car and carried the two babies a long distance inside, knowing that this mall rents strollers. After an unfruitful attempt at locating one, and well over a mile already on our feet, I had my wife sit down and keep an eye on the twins while I go further ahead to search. After another half-mile of walking, I found an information desk that had exactly two employees, thirteen strollers, and one stiff “policy”.

We left.

Whether you’re a business, a website, a church, or any other entity that services people, you’ll find that your “visitors” will come to you through many different avenues, with many different needs. If you’re serious about making the sale or providing the service, you’ll learn when your policies matter and when they can be relaxed in order to keep the customer alive.

Most people give up just when they’re about to achieve success. They quit on the one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game, one foot from a winning touch down.

Starting a business? taking a new direction in life? Learning a new hobby or trade? Beginning a new relationship? I believe it’s all attainable. Just don’t give up.

Two things are implied here in Mark’s quote: 1) an apology for taking up more of someone’s time than he would have preferred, and 2) brief and succinct communication, while more difficult to compile, is preferable to a deluge of unnecessary words.

For some reason, a one-sentence thought always turns into a novel when I sit down to write. I need to work on that.

I’ve been pretty busy lately with life, and ventures to improve it, so haven’t had much time to post here… but my goal is to correct that time issue and put more of my thoughts here.

My family and I have been pre-occupied with building our church (people-wise, not architecture-wise) and working in our many volunteer roles as well. We teach Bible studies nearly every day, and are always looking for time to teach more. It’s really a lot of fun, and has helped us become much sharper with our understanding of the scriptures.

Some people think we’re crazy for being so busy, but you know… we love it. Not only do we get to interact with so many wonderful people, but we actually get things accomplished! We would be entirely miserable if we just sat around eating chips and surfing the web all day. Anybody out there know what I’m talking about?

I’ve found the more I do… the more I get done! Go figure.

OK… Until next time.

I will endeavor to get things cleared away soon, though, so I can get some attention focused back here on the site.

Thanks to anyone who has shown an interest in what I’ve had to say… just keep your RSS feed active, and you’ll know when I post again.

It was nearly twelve years ago that she first discovered an abnormal flowing of blood from her body. At first, she didn’t think the problem was too severe, but soon realized that it was not going away. For twelve years, she has suffered, and each day of every year she wished it would stop. Over the years, she had seen physician after physician, but to no avail. Not only had she spent every dime she owned to purchase a healing, and find a release from her pain, in the end she had not improved at all.

Many people can sympathize with this woman. Maybe you can, too. Maybe you know what it’s like to go through life wishing things were different… that you were different. Praying that the pain you’ve felt for so long could somehow be relieved. Physical. Emotional. Spiritual. Maybe we can all relate somehow to the desire for change. Tired of waking up each day and facing the same dilemma… the same face in the mirror that echoes years of discouragement and shattered dreams.

She sank back into the crowd, a refreshing cool overwhelming her. She felt the flow of blood that was once constant suddenly stop. What had happened to her? What was she feeling?

It was at that instant that Jesus turned himself around in the group that pressed against him while he walked.

“Who touched me?” he demanded.

“What do you mean, ‘who touched you’, Jesus?” his disciples stated, “Everyone is touching you… You see the crowd pressing against you and you say, ‘Who touched me?’”

Jesus said, “I felt power flow out of me… someone touched me.” And he looked around him to see who it was.

The woman, trembling, pressed back through the crowd and dropped before him. “It was me, Lord… I touched you. I had to touch you… I had no other hope, and I had to touch you.”

“Daughter, your faith has made you well… go in peace and be healed.”

It’s a great quality in a person that causes them to take interest in God, and many people actually take the step to know him better than they have before. But there is a place in Him that many people never realize, because they are content with simply rubbing shoulders with him. They get into his presence… like the crowd that day… they even touch him. But they don’t really touch him. They sing their songs in the congregation, but they don’t really sing. They even preach, and never really preach. People attend church faithfully every week with the hope of touching Jesus, but they never really touch him.

There is so much more to a relationship with God than a superficial recognition of him. There is a deepness that many people never realize, but that is open to everyone.

I cannot be content with merely being in his presence. I can’t be satisfied with only rubbing shoulders with him. My needs are too great. My desire is too overwhelming. I don’t want just a closeness with him… when there is a place that is closer.

What would happen if we just tried to press in beyond our past efforts, or failed attempts at knowing God? What resources would be available to us? What healings? What peace? What fulfillment?”

What would happen if we really touched him?

While examining the inside of his ear, I asked him a question framed in the language of a 7 year old boy, “Daddy, how are you going to make that thing work?” “Well,” he replied “first I need to figure out what’s wrong with it. Then, I just have to fix the problem and put it back together.”

Words to live by, there. See, my Dad had a way of putting things back together.

Earlier that day, I sat in the principal’s office at Deik Elemementary, barely staring over a large wooden desk at an aging man with a wooden paddle in his hand. I don’t remember any words spoken in that room, only the feeling of pain I had as I walked back to my classroom down a dimly lit hallway. Alone, and defeated. Wiping tears on my shirt so no one would see me crying. But more than the pain I felt from that wooden paddle, was a fear of my parents knowing that I had messed up. I could handle bruises and cuts, fistfights and bicycle spills. But what hurt me more than anything was the thought of messing up.

“Dad, I wish I could fix televisions.”

“Of course you can fix televisions.” He said.

“I wish I could fix lots of things.”

“Jamie,” he used my childhood nickname, “sit down over here and hang on to this soldering iron for me.” I let go of his neck, and plopped down next to him.

“I want you to listen to me. There is not a thing in this world that you can’t do. Do you understand? You can do anything. You can fix things, and build things, and invent things. You can do anything.” I handed him the soldering iron. “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

In a few minutes, my Dad asked me to plug in the television.

A sound came from the small speaker as the tube began to glow and show a fuzzy black and white picture. I was amazed again. I was amazed that in a half-hour’s time, my Dad used a soldering iron, voltmeter and some well placed words to fix a broken seven year old boy. He really could do anything.

And you know what? So can I.

No, I’m not talking about anything trans-gender or the mythological “extra gene” or anything… I’m talking about that voice… that extra voice that is there… the voice of reason… that picks up where natural thought and conscience let go.

Let me explain…

For each of us, our voluntary actions are not just randomly selected and executed, but they have a set of filters they must go through before they culminate in either satisfaction or stupidity. Unlike our involuntary actions, like breathing and blinking, these actions are calculated and understood.

The first thing that dictates our voluntary actions is training. I define this as the sum total of our past life lessons that create a pre-programmed response to our future actions. We are trained to react a certain way to certain things.

The second thing that dictates our voluntary actions is our conscience. This is the reasoning part of us that understands consequences for our actions. This is the part that should, if all goes well, lead us to make the right decisions. However, our conscience doesn’t always win, and it doesn’t always produce the right results.

And that’s where the third thing comes in… women’s intuition. Now it’s time to really explain!

Every man has a woman of influence in his life. Whether it’s your mother, wife, or good friend, there is a God-given fail-safe that kicks in when stupidity begins to rear it’s ugly head. It may be the, “Are you really going to eat that?” comments, or the, “Should you really do that” comments, or the “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea” comments, but we’ve all heard them and… like them or lump them, we all appreciate them.

Women’s intuition has saved my life many a time. Sometimes it’s while driving down the road with a hamburger in one hand, a coke in the other, my knee on the steering wheel, and a map beside me that this intuition kicks in and erases a would-be News headline.

Or it may be while performing a super-masculine stunt with a power-tool at unprecedented heights that women’s intuition comes to call. It calls from the ground below, and it’s coming from the mouth of my beautiful wife!

I don’t know about the rest of mankind, but as for me… I certainly appreciate this influence in my life. It doesn’t always keep me from winning a Darwin award, but it certainly is usually right.

Man, if I would only listen!

A year or so later, the preacher found himself, too, at the mercy of a crowd’s failing attention, and desperately spouted off, “The best years of my life were spent in the arms of another woman!” Problem is, he just couldn’t remember the second part to save his life!, “And for the life of me,” he said, “I can’t remember who she is.”

Today is my 10th wedding anniversary, and I can honestly say that the best years of my life were spent in the arms of my wife, Angela. I breathe for her. I live for her, and I love her beyond words.

She is the most beautiful woman my eyes have embraced, and I count myself the luckiest man alive to be married to her.

I understand what they mean when they say “Love transcends time” because these 10 years have felt like 10 days and 100 years at the same time… and every minute has been beautiful.

Thank you, baby, for the best years of my life.

In my short, but eventful life, I’ve been the fortunate recipient of many life lessons… some of which have been enjoyable, and some that have been trying… all of which have shaped me into who I am.

Unlike some people, I suppose, I am proud of who I am. Not in a haughty or conceited way, but in a humble and self-respecting way. I have done things that I later was ashamed of, and things that I was proud of, but all of these things have crafted… me.

Just as there are events in life that shape us, there are also influences that come in the form of people. And just as events in life can be both enjoyable and trying, people are not really any different. I’ve met my good ones, and I’ve met my ‘rotten apples’… but still, each of them have shaped me into who I am. And, for better or for worse, I am thankful for each one. They have either become part of me, or become a good example of what I don’t want to be. So each influence in my life has been welcome and appreciated.

There are, however, some events and some people who stand out from the normal sphere of for-better-or-for-worse influence that deserve a greater regard… a higher commendation… props, if you will.

I remember an English teacher of mine in High School named Mr. McBride, who saw something in me that I didn’t. He saw above-average while I saw mediocre. He saw excellence where I saw, “good enough”. He pressed me and drove me, angered me and prodded me. With passion, he tried to draw out of me something that he knew was there. Perhaps he was living part of himself through the accomplishments that I would make… taking pride in pulling someone out of mediocrity to excellence. I don’t know that I’ve ever attained to the level that Mr. McBride saw in me, but I do know this… I am much the better for his efforts. I may not have seen it at the time… in fact I know I didn’t… but on the other side of this road, I can see it clearly now. Proper respect belongs to that man. A life-changer.

Life is blessed, occasionally, with those who are willing to be more than just a casual influence in someone’s life… to affect someone so profoundly that their life is changed for the better. Those are the heros in my mind. The life-changers.

So, to all those in my life who have been, or will become, a life changer… and to all those in someone else’s life who strive to be a catalyst of change… my props go to you.

You know who you are, because it doesn’t come by accident. It is purposeful, and meaningful. And I thank you for you.