A digital commonplace for a Regular Guy called Charlie Pharis
This little gem came in today’s Mikey’s Funnies…
“You need only two tools: WD-40 and duct tape. If it doesn’t move and it should, use WD-40. If it moves and shouldn’t, use the duct tape.”
And of course, that reminded me of this old goodie…
“Duct tape is like The Force. It has a light side and dark side, and it holds the universe together.”
Today started out as one of those “empty tank” days, for a lot of reasons.
It got a little better.
We had Nathan, one of my buds from college, as our guest this morning at our church. (It’s the annual “state missions emphasis” thing where some “denominational serpent…uh, servant!” comes in and extols the great virtues of our wonderful state group. Let the reader understand…)
Anyway, this year’s emphasis is primarily on what our tribe is doing on college campuses across our state. My bud is one of the campus ministers at the University of Georgia. He laid out a few of the usual stats, and did the “good denominational guy” thing. But then he told us the stories of three of the students in the ministry.
“Emily” signed on for the summer missions program, and ended up in Africa. Emily and her team assumed they’d be assigned to some seasoned missionaries, who would guide them along in their work for the summer. She discovered that was not to be the case. Emily’s team was plopped down in the middle of a village of unreached people, a group whose language had not even been translated or written. Their job? To “write the manual” for the mission strategy among this unreached people.
“Matt” is one the student leaders in the campus ministry. His vision is for students to know Jesus and disciple others. Matt has led the group away from what was formerly a “celebrity” focus with big-name speakers, big-name musicians, and big-show worship gatherings to a more organic, home-grown, relational kind of discipleship.
“Chris” did something really radical! He organized the “jock ministry” to raise funds for the group’s summer missions gigs. He started a bike ride that would go from Athens, Georgia to Jacksonville, Florida in the week preceding the Georgia-Florida cocktail party. They’ve raised bunches of money over the last couple of years.
These three stories inspired me. Emily reminded me that there are folks out there – some I know, some I don’t, some who are linked right over there on your left – who are plopped down among a culture whose language is unsure, but who need what Jesus offers. They are “writing the book” that others, who are willing and able, will follow to reach other cultures. They don’t have a “we don’t do it that way” focus. They have a “whatever it takes” heart.
Matt’s story reminded me once again that it’s really not about the “superstars.” There is, after all, only One. It’s about regular Janes and Joes, who have a passion to make a real difference for Jesus. Not to wow a crowd. Not to make a name for themselves. But to be salt and light in their world.
And Chris’s “extreme” adventure (hey, we are talking in the context of Southern Baptists, in Georgia, you know!) reminded me that there are people (see a couple of paragraphs above) who are fed up with the “give it to me easy” brand of “Christianity” that gives nice, packaged easy answers to life’s problems. They want a challenge. They want to believe that walking with God is a commitment worth making.
I was challenged. Just when I needed it…
“Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” – Carl Sagan
“The tragedy of of life is not that it ends too soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.” – WM Lewis
I believe it is the quietest this house has ever been.
There’s no TV. No stereo.
No computer game sounds. No quiet clicking of computer keys. No friendly chirping of the instant messenger. There’s only one length of cable attached to the modem and router.
His blinds are open. His desk is clean. The desk lamp sits in quiet darkness. The carpet smells like cleaner. The closet door is slightly ajar. Empty.
The cat is not sure.
I cried. I embarrassed him, I know. I guess he’s thankful we parked across the street from his building. I watched him walk away. And I thanked God for my son. And I asked Him to keep him safe. To help him make good choices. To help him make good friends. To help him make good grades. And to help him leave some good footprints. And I cried again.
And I am now.
The Boy has finally moved on campus. As ready as he was to go, I still think it’s going to take a little time.
I’m not staying up waiting for him to come home after a late date. The front porch light is not on tonight. The first driveway parking spot is not empty. But my heart is.
I hope he does well. I hope he does good.
He’s been chomping at the bit for a month at least, and it looks like – knock on wood – that they’ve finally gotten the buildings ready for occupancy. To tell you the truth, I’m excited for him. But I’m also a tad bit sad, because I’m going to miss him around here. He drives me absolutely bananas sometimes. He makes me scratch my head and go “Huh?!?!?” But he’s basically a pretty good guy, and I know he’s ready to pull up stakes and venture out on his own.
He’ll do fine, I think. I pray he’ll keep his focus where it ought to be, and that he’ll see this as the next step to fulfilling his purpose.
Bon voyage, Andrew. Happy trails. And don’t be a stranger. We love you…
“Talent renders the whole idea of rehearsal meaningless; when you find something at which you are talented, you do it (whatever it is!) until your fingers bleed or your eyes are ready to fall out of your head. Even when no one is listening (or reading, or watching), every outing is a bravura performance, because you as the creator are happy.”
And this…
“If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?”
Seth Godin links to the website of No. 17, “the hottest design firm in New York City.”
It’s a simple page with no bells or whistles, nothing whiz-bang about it.
But apparently No. 17 has discovered that they aren’t in the “cool Website” business. They’re in the design business, and judging from some of the clients they list, there’s a real good reason they’re having to turn business away: They’re really, really good at what they do!
I love this line:
“What would happen if you did better work and less marketing?”
What would my work look like if I did it better? Would I have to talk about it as much? Would it speak for itself? What would it say about me? Better yet, what would it say about the Boss?
Seth Godin links to the website of No. 17, “the hottest design firm in New York City.”
It’s a simple page with no bells or whistles, nothing whiz-bang about it.
But apparently No. 17 has discovered that they aren’t in the “cool Website” business. They’re in the design business, and judging from some of the clients they list, there’s a real good reason they’re having to turn business away: They’re really, really good at what they do!
I love this line:
“What would happen if you did better work and less marketing?”
What would my work look like if I did it better? Would I have to talk about it as much? Would it speak for itself? What would it say about me? Better yet, what would it say about the Boss?
