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Every time the economy or corporate profits take another dip in their roller coaster ride, you start hearing corporations saying that word again - downsizing. Many companies have and probably will come to the conclusion that one way to increase their profitability is to decrease the number of employees they have. So they downsize to be more successful.
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It's no wonder many American women are unhappy with their looks. They're comparing themselves to the magazine pictures of these flawless models. Of course, that woman doesn't really exist. She's the creation of hair stylists, makeup artists, wardrobe specialists, special lighting and hundreds of continuous-frame photos, from which one good one is selected and then airbrushed to remove all the imperfections. Nobody looks good compared to that mythical icon - including the real girl in the picture! But with our obsession with a certain definition of beauty, the word "makeover" has become more and more popular. They even have TV shows that have been totally devoted to transforming a woman thought of as "average" into someone much more stylish. It just takes some time backstage with the hair, makeup, and wardrobe magicians. And with the split screen showing her "before," out steps this glamorous "new woman" with her makeover!
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It seems like it's almost America's spiritual national anthem - even more so after the emotional earthquake of September 11, 2001. You heard it a lot then. It's that centuries-old hymn, Amazing Grace. For years, they've played it at the funerals of fallen policemen and firemen and of many everyday men and women. It's been the subject of a public television documentary. And on the emotional anniversaries after September 11, at Ground Zero, what song have the bagpipers played as they approached that site which has become hallowed ground? Of course, they were playing the haunting strains of Amazing Grace. Even for people who don't go to church or know much about the Bible or even believe much of anything, they know Amazing Grace.
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When I came home from my first trip to Australia, my kids were eager to see what souvenirs I might have brought back for them. I couldn't fit that kangaroo in my suitcase, but there was one very Australian item I did bring back - a boomerang. Those things are amazing. If you throw it right, that boomerang will go out, make a U-turn, and come right back to you. It's probably a good idea, then, to pay attention after you throw your boomerang. I can just see a klutz like me throwing it, turning my back, and getting boomed with my own boomerang!
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A friend of mine has served on his local school board for many years. And the more demands that have been placed on schools in recent years, the more complicated the work of school boards and school officials has become. The other day one of those frustrations surfaced in our conversation. My friend said, "You know, our state keeps passing on mandates to us for things our school system has to do, but lots of times they give us the mandate without any money. They decide what we have to do, and we have to figure out how to pay for it."
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When Lee Stroebel writes a book, he brings to it all the skills and the disciplines that he learned as a journalist. Lee was a respected reporter and, by the way, an atheist. Today, he is a powerful representative of Jesus Christ and a leader in reaching people for Him. While preparing for a recent book, Lee interviewed a wide variety of noted people to get their perspective on Christ. One was a man who was a gifted evangelist in the 1940s, a man whose ministry paralleled Billy Graham's; a man who was known by millions and actually expected to have a ministry like Billy Graham has had. But after he attended a liberal seminary to get more education, he shocked the Christian world by abandoning his faith. His media career in Canada gave him a lot of notoriety, and he often used that platform to express his unbelief.
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It's one nightmare that is sure to either wake me up or ruin my sleep. I'm about to be introduced to speak at some very important gathering and I have nothing to say. I've run out of time to prepare anything, and they are introducing a man who has no idea what he's going to talk about. But, you know, I'm not the only one who has nightmares about not being prepared. In fact, it is one of the more common themes of our bad dreams. Now, what you're unprepared for depends on your situation at that point. Some people have nightmares about not being prepared for an exam, or to give a report, or to conduct an important meeting, or to have important guests arrive at your house. Whatever your thing is, that "not ready" thing is real nightmare material.
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I was a speaker for a youth camp, and I'd been pouring out my heart to those teenagers in service after service. At the end of the week some kids came up to me and said, "Do you know what really affected us the most this week?" I was waiting to hear which message, which illustration, or which challenge had impacted them. It wasn't any of those things. These teenagers said, "You know, Ron, we've been watching you with your wife this week. We've seen how you treat her, how you put your arm around her, and how you talk to her. And that's what's really impressed us."
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I was supposed to be speaking for an event at the Rosemont Horizon. It's this massive arena near Chicago's O'Hare Airport, and it is surrounded by a "spaghetti bowl" of expressway ramps. My driver was unfamiliar with the roads around the arena, so we spent an exciting few minutes circling the Horizon on one ramp after another. We just couldn't seem to find the ramp or the exit that went to the destination we wanted. It wasn't that we couldn't see the auditorium the whole time. Oh, I saw it plenty of times. It was just because we didn't know how to get into it!
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My wife and I are some of those psychos that I call marathon drivers. Now I know long-haul truckers have to do it for a living. But sometimes we choose to do it, just because we want to get somewhere quickly. Of course, like most men, I like to be the one driving, sometimes for longer than I should. My wife tells me that our lives start to be in danger from the time I start rubbing my right leg while I'm driving. Apparently, that's the first tip-off of fatigue. She will gently offer to drive and I will, of course, refuse. She offers several other times to drive, when I start doing a Jane Fonda workout at the wheel, when I turn on some obnoxious radio station at full volume, when I open the window to let in the 20-below wind chill. Finally, just before we're just about to become a National Safety Council statistic, I grudgingly pull over to the side of the road. We change seats, and I'm out before she can start up the car again.
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Now, I had never been to a quilt auction before. And I probably never would have been to one except for the fact that I had been invited to speak at an outreach at a Mennonite Relief Sale, where thousands come to bid on items made by Mennonite and Amish craftspeople. All the funds go toward worldwide relief efforts. It was amazing to hear the spiraling bids shouted out for some exquisitely designed quilts. While I was there, one went for $2,000. Last year, they told me that one quilt had gone for $4,000. They even sold two handmade dolls for almost $1,000. I was there long enough to see what gave great value to an auction item. Those dolls, for example, were made by a Ugandan refugee. The quilt that went for $4,000 was made laboriously by a severely handicapped woman, and it was the last one she made before she died. When we were told who made it - when we were told the effort they went to make it - it was suddenly worth a whole lot more.
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When I was a kid, I used to like to put on shows for the other kids in the neighborhood. Hey, wait a minute, am I still doing shows for the kids in the neighborhood? Anyway, I bought a couple of cheap books on magic back then and this little kit of magic tricks. Even at my juvenile level, I soon learned that magic wasn't really magic - it was illusions. My beginner magic book talked about this basic magician skill called misdirection. The idea is that while you're doing the trick over here you do something that will get everybody looking over there. They said it helped to talk a lot. I knew I'd at least be good at that part.
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When you live in the New York area, locking up your house is just second nature. In fact, it's wise to make sure that every door and every window is locked. Unfortunately, all those precautions can work against you if you forget or lose your house key. Listen to the voice of experience. Not only are all those nasty people locked out, you are now locked out! I've been there and done that. I can remember making a complete circuit of the house, desperately trying every window and every door. And the good news was that sometimes I actually found something that was unlocked. I'd take even a window that I had to be a contortionist to get through! Anything to find a way to get in!
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Our daughter was just a toddler, and she'd often talk with me while I was getting ready in the morning. I'd be brushing my teeth, or shaving, or combing my hair. But one morning, unbeknownst to my wife, our daughter got in the bathroom, stood on something, and got the blade razor that I shaved with. When her mother walked in, our daughter was stroking that razor across her face, minus any shaving cream and leaving some serious scratches and scrapes behind.
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Our kids were part of the Sesame Street generation. Maybe you can hear the theme song in the back of your mind. They grew up watching what was then the most creative, groundbreaking children's program of its time. And Sesame Street always has had an interesting cast of Muppet characters to make learning more interesting. I mean, who could forget Bert and Ernie, and Mr. Snuffleupagus, and Big Bird (Who I guess he looks sort of like a canary on steroids)? And, of course, that epitome of poor hygiene, Oscar the Grouch. In case you've been culturally deprived, Oscar is this hairy creature with his big eyes and a bad attitude who lives in a garbage can. He even sings a song called, "I Love Trash." Oscar doesn't have to live in a garbage can. He chooses to. No wonder he's got a bad attitude!
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Not long after I got up this morning, I looked in the bathroom mirror - it wasn't very pretty. My hair had exploded during the night! (What I have!) There were whiskers that needed shaving; there were several repairs that need to be made. Maybe you have the same kind of experience when you look in the mirror in the morning. You ask yourself, "How in the world could six hours do so much damage?" Usually, what you see in the mirror involves more than just information (Oh man! Look at that skin! Look at that hair!) No, no, no, it calls for transformation! You see what you really look like and you got to work on it!
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I had to laugh as my friend Cathy told me about an experience she had at a former job, because it tells so much about how my half of the human race thinks - like men, I mean. Cathy and her boss had rented a car at the airport for a relatively short trip from the Dallas/Fort Worth airport to a nearby city. We're talking like a few minutes' drive here, but not for Cathy and her boss. No, they just kept driving in circles, retracing their steps, turning around. I mean, her boss obviously did not know where he was going. Cathy kept suggesting he stop for directions, but, "No, I know where I'm going." Of course men always do, right? She said she got to the point where she was ready to punch him if she saw this particular restaurant one more time! (Good thing she didn't!) Finally, four hours later, they got to their destination. Was this man lost? Yes. Could he admit he didn't know where he was going? No! He's a man!
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One day I was talking with the owner of a local pizza restaurant; a place where I am known all too well. I was there at the tail end of their rush hour, and let me tell you, this place is a zoo for about 90 minutes around noon. It was slowing down and the owner finally was able to stop to talk with me. When he asked me how I was doing, I said, "Well, I'm doing a lot better now. I had lunch!" The owner said, "I know what you mean. If I wait very late to eat lunch, I start to get shaky." I told him, "Well, I guess you're in a good place then." Actually, he corrected me. He said, "Sometimes we are so busy serving it that we don't have time to eat it ourselves!"
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We were adding onto our little house, and we were getting some help from good old Chuck. He's been a part of adding to our house; actually, he did most of the work. He's a wonderful Christian brother. He's a skilled builder and handyman. He's like an everyday genius - which I am not. Now the days were pretty long and we'd been leaving the house earlier than Chuck got there and returning home after dark. So, I didn't get to see him much. But every day that front porch was noticeably farther along than it was when we left that morning. I actually did get to talk to Chuck on the phone one day, and I told him that, in a way, he reminded me of the Lord. I don't actually see him, but I see the difference he's made!
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Our three-year-old grandson had found something he really liked in the Christian bookstore. He brought it to his Daddy and he told him he really wanted it. Our son-in-law said, "Well, do you have any money?" Sadly, our grandson said, "No." But his disappointment was quickly replaced with determination as he went over to this display area where they have this fake money you can buy. He marched up to the cash register with the prize he wanted and the "money" to pay for it. Dad re-entered the scene at that point and said, "Is that really money?" Finally, our grandson faced the sad reality. He said, "No. It's not really money."
