Posts

Showing posts from April, 2010

Partial Commitment (Part 1)

I had an argument recently with a friend as we discussed the marriage of another friend. I’d like to say we “debated” or “commented on” this other friend’s marriage, but the reality is… we were arguing. In retrospect, it was only an argument because we both care about our friend’s marriage, which quite frankly is in pretty poor shape. But I’m not writing specifically about my friend’s troubled marriage (other than to ask you to pray for the couple). Rather I’m writing about one of the big root causes to their present situation: partial commitment. Partial commitment is a killer. Keeping options open sounds wise on the surface, but in reality, it’s draining and leads to conflicted feelings. I know all too well, because I’m an options guy. I look at something and explore the different angles, possibilities and “what if’s”. It’s a great strength for problem-solving and a huge weakness in implementation. When dating, partial commitment keeps a person from jumping into a bad relationship,

800 Years Later...

About 800 years ago, the son of a rich Italian merchant came face to face with Jesus... literally. A soldier and partier, this man from Assisi was transformed as the living Jesus appeared to him. To the chagrin of his father, this man forsook the pleasures of this world and chose instead a life of poverty, identifying with the poor in his midst. Jesus told him to rebuild His church, and Francis worked to rebuild a building. But as Jesus transformed Francis, Francis transformed the world around him. Although he was never ordained, he attracted a group of followers who also sought the simple life. I wonder... how would the world be transformed today, 800 years later, if Jesus' people lived an attitude that reflected the prayer of St. Francis: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon: where there is doubt, faith ; where there is despair, hope where there is darkness, light where there is sadness, joy O divine

What Do You Know About Love, Marriage and Family?

I feel compelled to write about love, marriage and family… just a few light topics before bedtime. So: “What Do You Know About Love, Marriage and Family?” I guess the short answer to the title question for any of us in 2010 America is: “Not enough”. I worked with a gentleman who raised not only his own children, but also his grandchild because the actual parents didn’t want the responsibility. Now, he’s in the process of repeating this cycle with his GREAT-grandchild! Why are adults refusing to grow up? While responsibility may have become a synonym for burden in our society, one thing I know is that family, marriage and love are some of the nicest inconveniences in life. I saw a movie, “In Good Company” (2004), where a young man is asking an older man how he managed a happy marriage. The older man responds with “First you find someone that’s going to stay in the foxhole with you, and then you keep [yourself faithful].” (Umm… had to clean up the language a bit.) There’s a lot o

Why Easter?

It’s easy for me to say: “I love Christmas!” Ever since I was a kid, it held a certain sense of expectation. First: there’s all the gifts and decorations. Then as I got older: there’s all the gifts and decorations! (just half -kidding) As I matured, I grew to understand the joy of giving, looking forward to seeing the expression on others’ faces when they open THE package. And of course, I love the REAL message: God the Father extends peace and good will toward men. But Easter? It never had the same pull for me as a kid. Hard-boiled eggs with fancy colors just didn’t compare to the lights of Christmas trees, especially since I really wasn’t too fond of hard-boiled eggs. And candy in a basket was nowhere near as exciting to wake up to as a mountain of toys supplemented with a stocking of sugary delights. Of course Easter is no more about the flowery traditions than Christmas, but the fact remains: as a young boy, it was never packaged up very nicely. Still, I remember somewhere a