The NFL has, too, become a machine. Further proof of America’s love affair with broken institutions.
The NFL has, too, become a machine. Further proof of America’s love affair with broken institutions.
Whoa. The MLA has officially devised a standard format to cite tweets in an academic paper. Sign of the times.
A rough copy of some daily questions for reflection that I am finding useful. Going to start integrating these into my daily routine.
- How am I feeling right now? Why?
- What are my touch points or triggers for personal growth today?
- Listen. What does the Father want you to know today?
- Is there something He is asking of you now?
- Listen again. This time for others. What is He saying?
- Is there anyone I do not perceiving clearly? What do I need to know
to adjust perception to see their brokenness and their strength?
- Where am I living the best story possible right now? Where am I
- Are there any relationships I need to invest more in? Less in?
- Where am I engaging fully with that story? Where am I failing?
- Is there something I need to lean into today?
- Do I have a sense today of the bigger story I am a part of and
- Where am I having positive interactions? Negative?
- Is there something I must let go of? Restructure? Reformat?
- What risk laden, fear inducing initiative am I taking?
- Do I need to ask for forgiveness? Make amends?
- Where can I be generous with myself and what I have in my hands?
- Who am I truly loving today and how?
You’re at your job. Your boss gives you an assignment. This is nothing new for most of us. The standard response would be to do it because, well, he’s the boss. He has the authority and you don’t, right?
Or you’re driving home and pull up at a stoplight. The light is red and you stopped. Why? Presumably, because you’re an upstanding citizen and that’s the law so you follow it. They (the governing officials) have the authority and you don’t right?
Now consider this story. Through a friend of a friend, you have the honor of having dinner with the President of the United States. As the twelve of you sit down at the table, everyone remains standing until the President sits. This is a man whose job description is to serve his country, and yet there are literal and metaphorical armies at his disposal, ready to serve him. He is surrounded by an everpresent milieu of over sized men in black suits who exist to watch over and serve him. This is the picture of ultimate authority. Some would say he is the most powerful man in the world. It would seem natural then that he would be served by so many.
As everyone is sitting down, however, something remarkable happens. The wait staff is supposed to begin bringing the first course of the meal but no one comes. You wait and wait, but nothing. The President excuses himself from the table. Someone is going to be unemployed tomorrow, you think silently. He is gone for about fifteen minutes and people are getting anxious. Then, to everyone’s shock, he comes out of the kitchen carrying plates and a tray of fresh food more expensive than your family’s grocery budget for a year. And he starts filling water glasses. The President. Serving you. Like the guy at Cracker Barrel.
Needless to say, your brain is experiencing a combination of culture shock, broken expectations, curiosity, and wonder. You’re not sure if you are allowed to laugh or not. A Secret Service agent might be on you faster than you could close your mouth. Or are they all going to start clearing dishes too?
This has happened before. Different time, different context, different group of people, but the same pleasant surprise. It all happened inconspicuously in a little room in a bustling city in the ancient Middle East. And we have the full story. Once again, it’s supper time:
“Jesus knew that the Father had given him authority over everything and that he had come from God and would return to God. So he got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around him.
When Jesus came to Simon Peter, Peter said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’
Jesus replied, ‘You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.’
‘No,’ Peter protested. ‘You will never ever wash my feet!’
Jesus replied, ‘Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.’ “
It’s easy to glance past those first few sentences and get into the whole strange foot washing part, but take a moment to see how remarkable those first words are. If Jesus is to be believed, God has given him the ultimate promotion. He has total authority over everyone and everything. King of the world, literally. Yet, watch his reaction. What does he do?
He serves. The President gets up from the table and takes care of his friends. It was part of the plan all along.
Ultimate authority breeds the ultimate ability to serve. The adage about power corrupting? The truth is that power only reveals. It shows who we really are because authority is a tool. It can be a tool for great evil and destruction, or a tool to create the good and beautiful.
And it turns out that authority is earned not given. See, we’re taught that you are just supposed to do what you’re told. Your boss gives the assignment and you diligently get working. But the truth is that your boss has no power over you, and neither does the that stoplight blaring red. It’s just a stoplight, sitting there, powerless, trapped. Confined to it’s depressing world of engines and concrete.
The truth is that we do have free choice. We don’t have to obey the law, and we certainly don’t have to obey our bosses or our parents or our spiritual leaders. We really don’t have to do anything that we don’t want to. It’s all about your choices.
And so authority is actually earned, because the power we have over someone is because they choose to follow. We can pretend that we can exert more control than that, but that’s a lie. Your boss can’t do anything more than ask you to work. Everything past that is your decision. He make counter with a choice to fire you, but it’s your decision.
Real authority actually comes from who we are, from our character. Authority is earned by the quality of who we are and the influence we have on others. And it turns out that when we choose to use influence to benefit others, they trust us. This is an entirely different concept of authority than we’ve been taught. What we’ve really been taught is conformity and fear. When we lack strength of character, we are forced to use external things to motivate others. We develops systems of rules and incentives to trap others into thinking we have power over them. But we don’t. It’s just an illusion. A powerful one, but still a mirage. It’s smoke and mirrors.
Fear is a powerful motivator, because we’re all afraid of something. We’re afraid of losing the job, of looking bad. We’re afraid we might fail, or lose a friend, or be alone. So fear becomes a convenient motivator. But the far better motivator is love. Love requires choices and free will, and it honors both. Love says that certain choices will do good and other choices will bring harm, and it is up to each of us to choose which we want.
Authority is earned and not given. When we lead others out of a desire for their good, when they trust us, that is real authority because it is voluntary. Our followers are there because they want to be, not because they (mistakenly) believe they have to be. If you’re a weak leader, this will seem like chaos and failure. However, if you’re a strong leader, this means opportunity. It’s an opportunity to build trust, to encourage loyalty, and inspire achievement.
Authority doesn’t come from titles or delegations or pronouncements. It isn’t handed down or passed like a baton. It disappears the second people choose to follow you. You can believe in the old system of fear and punishment, of incentives and rules, but don’t be surprised when there is not trust or motivation in those your are supposedly leading. Humans are funny creatures. When people give us the message that they don’t trust us, we actually act like they believe it. Funny how that works.
There are two clear paths. You can choose the illusion of power and authority and keep trying to motivate with rules and incentives. You can choose to have people under you who are unmotivated, disloyal, confused, and frustrated. You can bear down and exert your authority with all your might to get everyone in line.
Or you could be different. You could give people choices, build trust, show them that you want good for them, and earn your authority. We’ve tried the old system. It worked pretty well when all we wanted out of people was conformity. I think that’s rather boring. And I believe in people more than that. We’ve perfected the illusion. Maybe it’s time for honest and different.
Let’s pretend for a moment that hell doesn’t exist.
Gone. No such thing. Never was, never will be.
Does that change how you live today? Tomorrow? When you’re 75?
So why all the controversy?
“God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. So we will not be afraid on the day of judgment, but we can face him with confidence because we live like Jesus here in this world. Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love. We love each other because he loved us first.” -1 John 4:16-18
If perfect love has no fear, then fear is exactly the opposite of what we want. This means that any system driven by fear is not only wrong, but damaging. It means that most of religion has it all wrong. See, religion, despite what it will tell you, aims not for freedom, but for power and control. Religion is defined by rules and regulations because it is fear of punishment when we break these rules that motivates us to follow them. At least for a little while, that is, until we revolt and rebel. This is legalism in its finest-a system that dominates based on fear, ignorance (often), and rules. It usually ends explosively, or else it slowly withers away.
Jesus was different. He saw fear and legalism as a perversion. But what about all of those rules in the Bible, one may ask? It was never about the rules in the first place. Rules exist as guides, as signposts, to show us not where we’ve broken them, but rather where we are missing out on perfect love.
If a church is struggling with lack of commitment (I’m talking to you evangelical America), then this is exactly because it is struggling with legalism. Legalism directly breeds lack of commitment. When we create an elaborate system of rules and say that following them is the most important thing, what we are doing is telling people that they can’t do it on their own. We are saying that we don’t trust them with their own freedom and so we have to tell them what to do. Now if there’s one thing that people hate, it’s having their free will violated. Even the smallest infringement causes us to be defensive, to back away.
Sometimes we allow our freedom to be attacked because we’re afraid that we wont’ know what to do, or that we won’t be good enough, or the unknown seems too much. So we submit to systems and clubs and rules because these make us feel safe. We think.
What happens though is that all of this freedom thieving destroys our desire to be fully responsible for ourselves. Legalism eliminates the need for personal responsibility, and it goes out the door with our courage. Now, and this is the key, when we are no longer taking full responsibility for ourselves, our commitment goes away. If I don’t feel like I’m really in control anyway, like my actions matter, like I have a meaningful impact, then I will stop caring how I act or what I say. As soon as we stop owning our own impact on the world, we cease to commit to it.
And this happens on the positive side as well. When we feel that we are not able to do something really great, we won’t stick around long enough to do it. However, as soon as I realize that no one is going to do that for me, and I completely accept this fact, I actually have more freedom because I see that everything I touch falls under the power of my choices. Suddenly I can do great good (or evil), and I will start being committed to it.
Why does this happen when we do it for ourselves anyway? Isn’t that selfish? Not at all. This is because we all want to be a part of something. We want to contribute something that others can appreciate and be grateful for because then we feel like we are a part of a community. We are accepted. This is a good thing. We desperately need connection.
The tragic thing about legalistic churches is that they majorly lack both freedom and connection. They are intertwined because forced connection is not valid. If your church lacks commitment, it’s almost definitely because it is legalistic and lacks relational depth. This happens in subtle ways, by the way. The best (or worst) kind of legalism is almost always subtle and manipulative. Most of us will run from direct, open legalism, but layer it in all sorts of things that feel like freedom but aren’t, and you have a recipe for mass entrapment.
If you want to engender commitment in a church community, give them lots of opportunities to choose something else. You’ll have less people who stay, but the ones who do will be committed. Cut back on the rules and be honest and vulnerable enough to admit you don’t know how to connect. Then start connecting. I can almost guarantee your church will be smaller, have less public appeal, make more people angry, and cause more dissonance. Jesus’ did. But I can also assure you it will show more love, impact more lives, make more people feel known and accepted, and feel much more genuine. Jesus’ did.
When champagne glasses, those cheap plastic ones you find at parties where you have less extravagance and more people, when those glasses clanked together and I sat on a couch in a house, taking in a sigh of remembrance, I never would have imagined.
As i sat there, friends laughing, dancing, making cheers, I could have never imagined 2010 would become what it is. Couldn’t have predicted the twists and turns of the road ahead, nor imagined that this would be a year defined by uncertainty. If 2009 was a year of rediscovery, this was one full of the unpredictable and unknown.
And so, as we step into the unseen for another day and another year, these are the things that surprised me in 2010.
Thanks to a five minute prayer and an incredibly scary feeling of a barely sure “yes,” I took a $2,000 gamble to travel halfway around the world. I surprised myself because this money was supposed to be for my own projects ,but somehow I just had this bad feeling about it, spending it all on me.
So I saved it, a stack of twenties sitting in a drawer in my room, for months, wondering. And then I got that yes. It’s that quiet and powerful yes that says, I want you to do something crazy and uncomfortable and unpredictable. And not only that, but you’re going to be heavily invested personally in this, and you’re going to really care about it and not be able to explain why.
When you get a yes like this, I’m learning, you sit up and pay attention. We want to believe that power comes from might and strength and force, but I learned this year that thee most powerful thing of all is a whisper. I held on to that whisper and didn’t let go.
The next surprise came when, in a month’s time, family and friends raised half the money for that trip. On trips like these, fundraiser driven ones, you just send out letters to everyone you’ve managed to get addresses from, and some you’ve finagled to get. There’s little shame in the process, because, if you want to raise enough, you either need a rich uncle, or a lot of audacity and shamelessness. I don’t have any rich uncles. And you know who wrote me the biggest check? My friend whom I know only because she cuts my hair once a month.
The third surprise came out of extreme uncertainty, and was more of a surprise by showing up and then going away right away. Our society today has a sort of fix that has become a default. The rule is: go to school, get a degree, get a career, retire, all is well. Now, philosophy and opinions of higher ed aside, I was left with a major decision. I probably needed a degree, which current schooling couldn’t complete, and so I set out to find the fastest way there.
The initial surprise was being accepted into an accelerated online program on a rare exemption, and the greater surprise still was watching myself quit a month later. This meant that plans A, B, and C were, at this point, moot. And the unknown got really big.
You know what it’s like when you throw a rock in a pond and it creates ripples? imagine that, instead of the ripples slowly growing outward, wider and calmer, one of those outer ripples suddenly becomes a giant wave and overtakes the entire pond, changing its shape forever. This was July.
While I was halfway around the world, the other direction, in São Paulo, I fell in love. It’s not that I fell in love with the people and the city and the culture and the language, as usually happens on these kinds of service-oriented trips. No, I literally fell in love. Unexpectedly, impossibly, shockingly, somehow so naturally, fell in love, with a girl. Now, I did love the culture and the language and all of that-but oh, the girl! She was something different altogether.
When we’re kids, we leave hints for our parents throughout the year, making sure they know exactly what we want for Christmas, so that, when the day finally comes, we get to tear open this box and-joy!-there it is! I felt like a kid opening that box, except everything was all wrong and all right, all at once. Inside wasn’t really what I had asked for. At least, I didn’t think so. But as I took it out of the box and played with it, it was was so much more. I was like everything I could have wanted, if only I could have known.
It was like someone knew exactly what I should have gotten more than myself. And the strange thing was that the tag said, “from Dad,” but my parents didn’t buy it. It was like opening a gift from the neighbor kid’s parents or something. And then I realized that the tag was right all along. It really was from my Father.And so she was the gift I couldn’t have known or asked for, but was somehow given to me. And I continue to discover, through that gift, how well my Father knows me.
The last surprise was a flurry, a whirlwind of them, that put me here, continuing to shake my head. In two weeks, I was nearly fired, worked everything out, and quit that same steady, stable, fairly well-paying job. With no plans in sight. It was a month later that I had another whisper, quite but somehow completely clear. It wanted me to write a book. I told the whisper it must be crazy. Of course I can’t do that, but yes I sure will, am I crazy, and who am I anyway?
After a month of intense focus and thought, I had a manuscript. And two months later, I have started a company, published it myself, and am days away from holding the thing in my hands. I have played the role of accountant, executive, designer, writer, editor, and researcher. And it has been totally worth it. Now, with the end of this project in sight, I look into 2011 and more unknown than ever before.
The thing about the unknown, though, is that it strips away all the variables and leaves the constants. And often it’s those things that surprise you than end up as solid constants. I’m still learning how to live running into the unknown, and I think it’s one of the scariest things a person can do. The beautiful thing is that it also means running into Someone’s arms. And you see that what seemed risky isn’t very risky at all. So for 2011, I encourage you to run into the unknown head on and see what surprises you. You just might find it was what you were looking for all along.
See you on the other side.
I think when you become a Christian, part of the initiation is that you have to learn to have this fear of being prideful. You can talk about your work, but only about those poor people who haven’t been saved yet. You’re not really supposed to talk about things you’ve accomplished or feel, you know, a sense of pride about it. There’s that word again. Pride. Sometimes I think I know what pride actually means but other times I’m not so sure. I’m a very abstract thinker but pride is even a little to vague for me to latch onto.
So we’re told that we’re loved, that people and God care about us, but we can’t get too big of a head about it, because otherwise we might fall into the trap of being prideful, and so I’m left with the distinct impression that I’m supposed to be afraid of myself or something. I’m supposed to work on my character and be a better person, but if I think about myself too long, well that could be prideful, and what’s really confusing is how I’m supposed to work on my pride while simultaneously not thinking about myself, and at that point I mostly just give up. And while we’re on it, the flip side of pride is supposed to be humility, but I can’t every talk or think about if I’m humble, and I definitely can’t say that I might be humble, because well then I’m not anymore. I haven’t actually met anyone who’s mastered this, but if you know someone and could introduce them to me, that would sure help as an example.
I think the idea of pride just makes for a really good scapegoat. I don’t really have to take responsibility for my life and actually accomplish something because, well, I don’t want to be all prideful. And I sure don’t have to take an honest self assessment every once in a while, because if I talk too much about myself, well there it is again. Apparently humility means that you love others as you…well…the rest of it becomes a problem. But as long as I can work under the assumption that I’m avoiding pride, well then I don’t necessarily have to actually do anything with my life, or live up to my potential, and I can be content being rather small, which I think is really unfortunate.
The other problem is that these people, the ones that don’t believe, well some of them are doing incredibly interesting and selfless things. Some of them are really successful and not very selfish about it at all, and I look up to a lot of them. And then there’s this part in the book of Romans where it says that even though people knew God, they ignored him and their thinking became foolish and futile. It seems to say that God is trying to know and speak to people even before they acknowledge his existence, and I know that’s hard for Christian to accept because that means we don’t get to take credit for convincing anyone we’re right, but there it is right there. I think we just brush over this because it makes those black and white lines go away. Suddenly we have to learn to see someone’s story with God in it even before they realize it. We have to see how, really, in their soul, they already know He’s out there and that He’s what they need, but maybe they’re just not there yet, and that’s ok.
So maybe when someone doesn’t acknowledge God but they go out and use their talents and abilities and do something really great for the world, and they actually care, they’re actually giving glory to God because He gave them those things and they’re living out their potential as much as they know how. I know this is really a threat to Christians because we work so hard to do good things and make sure people know we’re doing it for God, but what if the unbelieving person is more authentic than us because they’re just doing it because they want to. What if they don’t care if anyone knows, they just want to serve people. What do we do with that?
I know some will say that without acknowledging God, everything we do is just motivated for selfish reasons, and if we do good it’s only to make ourselves feel better, and that’s prideful and wrong. But what if it’s ok if doing good makes me feel better, makes me feel more alive? I know that someone might argue with your beliefs but they certainly won’t argue with you doing good. And I maybe God made it so that we would feel alive doing good because He actually wants us to? What if it’s really ok to totally enjoy being a generous, loving person?
Now I’m not saying there’s no such thing as arrogance. Arrogance is a real turn off and no one enjoys being around a narcissist. But that’s not a Christian thing. A lot of non-believers say they don’t like some Christians because of their arrogance. But see I don’t think pride is about how much you think or talk about yourself, or whether or not you have any accomplishments to be proud of. I’m more worried if you don’t than if you do. People who are successful, who are really good at what they do, and still actually care about people, are actually really enjoyable to be around. I think pride is really about how much your accomplishments aim to serve other people. I think if you do everything just to try to make yourself happy, that that’s really sad and I hope you know that it’s not going to work and you’ll end up lost and empty. But someone who is incredibly talented and successful and radically cares about people? Now that’s a really intimidating person. That’s somebody who can change the world.
I wonder if pride is a lot more about motives than it is about talk. I think maybe God is perfectly ok with us feeling good about ourselves when we doing something really great for someone, and when we’re really really good at it too. No one have a problem when someone is the best in the world at improving people’s lives. They’re not jealous of that person. No one is out to get them, to knock them off their pedestal or take their position away of them. No one was gunning for Mother Teresa.
So I’m going to try to be really good at loving people. I’m going to work at it, and I’m going to develop my talents and try to be really successful because I think God believes in me that much, and asks me to take that big of a risk, and I hope I can really do good for people because of it. If you think that’s prideful or wrong, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I want to have as many people at my funeral as I can who are there because I gave a little to them. I do want people to be sad I’m gone because that means I did something worthwhile. The difference between a narcissist and a philanthropist (which literally means lover of people by the way. Shouldn’t we all be?) isn’t the number of millions they have. It’s how many people they touch with them.
So I hope we can begin to talk about pride and humility in a different way. The Bible says Moses was one of the most humble guys who ever lived, and he was unashamedly successful. He went from a murdering shepherd to the political and spiritual leader of a nation of millions. There’s nothing unsuccessful about that. God was actually angry at Moses, there at the beginning of the whole story, because Moses didn’t want to use some of his abilities. He was afraid of speaking in public, especially to powerful intimidating people, and God wasn’t mad that he didn’t know what to say, but He was angry when Moses said he wouldn’t try. If Christians, real authentic loving Christians with generous hearts, were the most successful people in the world, who would argue with that? Who would be angry because all these successful people were determined to do lots of good in the world. For some reason, I have a hard time finding theological problems with that. Do you?
I have heard countless talks on the idea that our goal should always be to make God bigger and us smaller. God is God and I’m not, goes the mantra. I think this springs out of the idea that God should be glorified and worshipped, and somehow we translate this to mean that this also implies we become as tiny as possible. Add to this the virtue of humility and multiple warnings in scripture about pride, and one’s view of humanity becomes rather small indeed.
But I have to wonder why God would create something and love it so much if he designed it to be so insignificant? Is God really at his greatest when I’m at my lowest? This is another common theme among Christian thought, that if we could just find our weakest, most empty selves then God could really start working! Would you hire a plumber who has no skills, experience, or problem solving ability to fix my sink because you believe that plumbing is at its greatest when the plumber is at his weakest? And yet we believe that somehow God only works through our weakness, but never through our strength.
Doesn’t he want to make us strong? The bible is full of God’s desire to see us becomes all that it means to be human, to be strong, beautiful, passionate, engaged, impactful people. Jesus said he came to give us complete joy and life to the full. This sounds nothing like weakness to me. But we have developed an entire language around the idea that people have to be insignificant or else somehow God will get lost in the crowd of successful people.
I would rather submit to obeying when God speaks to me, not because I want to become less, but because I know that his dreams for me are bigger than my own, greater than my own. I want to follow him because his plan is the greatest adventure I can live and because I know he longs for me to be the greatest version of myself possible. When we are at our greatest, aware of God’s spirit and propelled by it, that is a combination that is unstoppable.
This is never a call to be arrogant. Humility can exist amidst strength. It finds joy and meaning in every area of life through gratitude and relationship with the Creator. It acknowledges that he is always greater; there is no fear of accidentally being a little higher than God. He certainly isn’t worried about it. No, instead he longs for us to live up to the potential he sees within us. Part of the American, and Western, attitude is defined by competition. We instinctively rank ourselves against each other. But God changes those dynamics because he is defined by love, and when you are defined by love, you no longer live in a commodity. You understand that love is an infinite resource, that people can have endless potential, and that God sees every human as invaluable.
Then there is this idea of “glory.” Christians talk about God’s glory, giving him glory, seeking his glory. The problem is that this word is rarely used in standard English outside of the Christian vocabulary, and we have lost the meaning of the biblical concept. There is a story from Exodus that gives a better idea of it.
“Then Moses said to him, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?”
And the LORD said to Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.”
Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.”
And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”
Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. 22 When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23 Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”
Moses asked God to show him his glory. Moses had already spoken with God as a friend, but here he wants to dive even further in. He is not asking for miracles or for God to give him anything. He wants more of who God is. Wrapped up in who God is is this term “glory.” It’s not about bragging rights; it’s about personhood. God’s glory is the sum of who he is as a person. No wonder scripture encourages us to seek after his glory. It is saying we should yearn to know him intimately because that relationship is the one that brings life to us. We need it to survive and to thrive.
God isn’t some uber narcissist who needs to get all the credit for everything. It’s already his. He ddidn’t create humanity just so that he would have people to mindlessly worship him. Instead, he knows that the best thing for us is to actually worship him out of relationship. He knows that we need him more than he needs us. He is saying, I am the force of life and I can make you into something great, but you not only have to acknowledge that I exist, you have to actually know me and allow me to change you from the inside out.
I wonder if the way we talk about God’s glory and how we need to be weak around him is an excuse for our lack of action. If I have to be weak all the time in order for God to be great, well then I never have to truly grow and accomplish anything. I am suddenly off the hook for being responsible for living out my greatest potential. I no longer have to have an impact on the world. I can stay weak because that’s when God is at his greatest, right? I think instead he is saying to work on our weaknesses and develop our strengths so that we can live the life he is calling is to. He is saying that it’s time to own who we are and grow because his ideas are going to require everything we have and we had better be prepared. If you want to really give glory to God, start living out your dreams and serve humanity. Find your best self and work at doing something truly noble. Then you can begin to understand the true value of worship.
Tips from the best in the world at creative thinking. Great ideas for when you hit a block. There’s a follow up article with seven more too!