Preparing for Home

C.S. Lewis wrote that God doesn't want us to ever mistake 'this place' as home. There are days in which it is easy to see this world is not the best of places. There are people who try very hard to make the earth 'hospitable' and think it can become paradise.

The problem of making our world paradise is that the physical nature of this world isn't going to let us do that.  Romans 8:18-22

God isn't going to allow our hearts to be set on things for very long. A quick jolt of reality: the physical body and the earth 'groaning' post warnings daily. Still, we press on with the idea that man can make it happen.

This season has made me long for home. More specifically, it's made me long for someone to hold my hands up because I can't hold them up anymore. We all need to someone to hold our hands up every once in awhile. That isn't a woe, it's just life.
Everything that could go 'wrong' or 'south' or 'into the pisser' has happened. Of course, there is an objective. God always has one. He has chosen us to refine, make worthy, lovable and ready for that day, blessed day. Being that God has been called the "Hound of Heaven", I know he's going to pursue us because that is a part of his nature. Our job is to find that objective, even if it's hidden from us for a time. I think I get into trouble when I stop looking for God's purposes in circumstances. This season has been a case of intermittent acceptance of what God is doing. That's really no way to go about embracing the Cross.

My nature is one of retreat. Trials have a way of forcing us into a crisis of belief. The consistency in which trouble finds us shouldn't be a surprise, yet I find myself surprised and stunned it comes!

I've really got no other place to go, no other person to run to, no other thing to indulge in. In this moment, the affections of this world are slowly losing their hold. Each person has specific affections. Although we share a commonality in weakness and sin, our weaknesses and our sins belong wholly to us and to that point, God must eradicate that which is, ahem, unlovely in unique ways, specifically in a way only we will understand. (Run on sentence, anyone?)

Zachariah could have his heart changed in a instant with a good spanking. Noah didn't really need a spanking, we could and still can look through his soul and that be enough for him to 'get it'. The "look" didn't work with Zach; he wasn't buying that. Well, that explains you and I. What God can use to shape me won't be the same with you. No, he's going to get your attention through that which matters to you. Look, life happens, so I'm not suggesting people are involved in this chastening (such as loss and so forth). I am talking about holding onto things: Idols.

Yes, the idols in the OT may have not been what you are holding on to right now. That makes you a bit superior doesn't it? I mean we don't have problem with forming a golden calf out of gold and we certainly don't have any issues with Asherah poles! C'mon, that's not me!

Can you hear God chuckling right now?

Yea, this world and its stuff, my stuff, is passing away. Losing its shine. What I think and had thought can bring me life is nothing more than cheap whiskey, with a bad after taste.

So, Lewis writes about this world in his marvelous Narnia series with this brief view of "Is this all there is?" moment about this world:

“One word, Ma'am,” he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things – trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a playworld which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia.”

To further stomp this horse, I offer yet another conversation found in Lewis' series. A conversation took place between Aslan and Jill regarding the things Jill could pursue, yet still thirst.

“If you're thirsty, you may drink.”

They were the first words she had heard since Scrubb had spoken to her on the edge of the cliff. For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, “If you are thirsty, come and drink,” and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking.
Anyway, she had seen its lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man's. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a sort of heavy, golden voice. It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way.

“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.

“I'm dying of thirst,” said Jill.

“Then drink,” said the Lion.

“May I - could I - would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.

The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.

“Will you promise not to - do anything to me, if I do come?” said Jill.

“I make no promise,” said the Lion.

Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
“Do you eat girls?” she said.

“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.

"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.

"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.

"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream
then."

"There is no other stream," said the Lion.

I suspect many of us would like a different stream through the course of the events in our lives. Jesus even asked if it were possible that the cup he was about to drink from be passed on and he be passed over. Never the less, he surrendered. Perfectly.

Yes, there is no other stream. The last few months have brought an array of emotions and responses, both inarticulate and articulated by me. Knowing body language is the most easily read indicator of what is going on, I wonder how the "BL" has looked, both by the people around me and the cloud of witnesses. I know that I betray the peace he gives often with my body language. I don't do well with hiding whatever is going on, good or bad. I'm trying to get better in looking the same, no matter the situation, and I think I am. But, that and a cup of coffee gets me, well, a cup of coffee.


The constant reminders of world events and the brevity of life keep dust ever present. I am dust.

Nouns and Adjectives on the Throne

Nouns and Adjectives on the Throne

For years, I never used the word "sovereign" as a noun.  I knew it could be used in this way—"Like a sovereign," writes Shakespeare "he radiates worth, his eyes lending a double majesty"—I just never did.  But trial and tragedy have a way of waking us to words and realities overlooked.  There was a time that whenever I closed my eyes to pray I was leveled by the image of the throne, and it was empty.  It was somewhere in the midst of this recurrent vision that I realized my neglect of the noun.  Was God indeed the Sovereign who spoke and listened?  I had often used the word as an adjective.  But adjectives, like good moods, seem to come and go.
The prophet Jeremiah depicts a Sovereign that cannot come and go, simply because He is.  God's sovereignty is not a coat that can be taken off when all is going well or when all is going poorly.  God does not cease to be the Sovereign though the world refuses to bow or "distant" seems a better adjective.  And God's words are not stripped of their sovereignty though no one is listening or no one responds.  The Sovereign of all creation is always sovereign, active, and near.  It is we who are inconsistent. 
Jeremiah chapter 6 begins with an image of the Sovereign speaking to a people unwilling to listen, an honorable Judge whose words are dishonored.  "To whom shall I speak?" the LORD inquires.  The question is a lonely one, reflecting both the prophet who speaks and the Sovereign whose words are ignored.  The inquiry also has the force of sarcasm:  Why bother speaking to a people who won't hear?  But the words are not a commentary on God's behavior; God is not throwing his hands up and suggesting the route of silence.  Rather, it is a commentary on God's words themselves, which are weighted with the compulsion to be heard.  Though our ears are closed and we scorn his warnings, the Sovereign speaks and his words go forth with power.  "God is always coming," says Carlo Carretto.  "God is always coming because He is life, and life has the unbridled force of creation.  God comes because He is light and light cannot remain hidden."(1)  God's decrees from the throne create and sustain the world.  There is a person enthroned in every word, bidding the world's response to every call and every sound. 
Yet we listen with stubborn ears and apathetic wills.  It is not a blind and stiff obedience God seeks, but a response appropriate for the Sovereign embodied in God's words and concern for creation.  The people of Israel were responding with formality in sacrifice while acting shamefully in other areas.  Today we might respond the same, making nods to religion in public or private, but refusing to wholly bow to the Most High, and hence, settling for something less than real humanity.  For in their failure to listen, the Israelites were losing their ability to perceive altogether.  "They acted shamefully...yet they were not ashamed; they did not know how to blush" (Jeremiah 6:15).  In human failure to kneel before the Sovereign of all creation, we lose something of what it means to be human. 
I don't know why the throne was empty every time I closed my eyes some years ago.  Perhaps I had removed God from the throne long before tragedy hit like a roaring sea and seemed to remove everything in its wake.  Perhaps God was ruling from the rooms where we needed God most.  I don't know.  But the emptiness of the throne forced me to reexamine the one who inhabits sovereignty itself.  Carretto's words once again hit the gist of such examining:  "The true problem is this:  Is God an autonomous presence before you, like you before your friend, the bridegroom before the bride, the Son before the Father? […] Can you meet God as a person on your road and prostrate yourself before Him as did Moses before the burning bush? […] Can you experience his presence in the dark intimacy of the temple as did the prophets?  In short, is God the God of transcendence, and thus the God of prayer, the God of what lies beyond things, or is He only the God of immanence, revealing Himself in the fruition of matter, in the dynamics of history, in the promise to free mankind?"(2)  Is God the Sovereign you will trust at the center of all things?  Upon a throne high and lofty, God asks us to look again, calls us to walk in ancient paths, and promises we will find rest for our souls


Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Carlo Carretto, The God Who Comes (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis, 1974), 3. 
(2) Ibid., Intro.

The Last Faint Spark

Ed- This is from Ravi Zacharias' Newsletter but so well written, I had to get in down for posterity.

The Last Faint Spark
"April is the cruellest month..." begins the first line of T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land.  The poem is thought to be a portrayal of universal despair, where we lie in wait between the unrelenting force of spring and the dead contrast of winter, and the casualty of the warring seasons is eventually hope.  In the bold display of life's unending, futile circles, one can be left to wonder at the point of it all.  Does everything simply fade into a waste land?  Is death the last, desperate word?  Perhaps it was somewhere in the midst of spring when the prophet reeled over life's abrupt and senseless end.  "In the prime of my life must I go through the gates of death and be robbed of the rest of my years?  For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise.  The living, the living—they praise you as I am doing today" (Isaiah 38:10, 18-19b).
Though differing in degree and conclusions, literature is unapologetically full of a sense of this deep irony, at times expressing itself as futility.  Euripides, writing in the fifth century, remarks,
"...and so we are sick for life, and cling
On earth to this nameless and shining thing.
For other life is a fountain sealed,
And the deeps below us are unrevealed
And we drift on legends for ever."(1)
Shakespeare, on the lips of Macbeth, is struck by the monotonous beat of time and the futile story it adds up to tell.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.  Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.  It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."(2) Nietzsche further determines that there is nothing distinct about life at all.  "Let us beware of saying that death is the opposite of life.  The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species..."(3)  And in the face of this certain futility, Bertrand Russell explains that we must somehow build our lives boldly upon this "firm foundation of unyielding despair."(4)
Is this the only fitting response to such a familiar anguish?  Must the human lament over fears of death and the uncertainty of life go unanswered—with only our brave, but futile, attempts to face them? 
During the Second World War in the midst of her own unyielding despair, Edith Sitwell wrote of a very different foundation.  Hers was not a simple-minded declaration of a better place, a billowy picture of a heavenly home and an escape vehicle to get there; nor was it a picture of a powerful Christendom, hope built up by the armor of control and certainty.  Her foundation was not the scaffolding of wishful thinking, a psychological hope made into a practical crutch.  It was, on the contrary, a picture entirely unpractical, a weak and beaten man, a defeated God crying with her.  She wrote:
Still falls the Rain—
Dark as the world of man, black as our loss—
Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails
Upon the Cross.
Still falls the Rain—
Still falls the Blood from the Starved Man's wounded Side:
He bears in His Heart all wounds,—those of the light that died,
The last faint spark
In the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad
uncomprehending dark The cross reminds us that it is permissible—in fact, deeply human—to speak the words at the very depths of our questioning souls.  We are at times overwhelmed by abrupt glimpses of life's finitude, the darkness of suffering, the cruelty of April and the pained limbo of waiting for something different.  We are at times devastatingly aware that we are human, we are dust, and we are easily overwhelmed, assailed by fear and death and uncertainty with what is beyond.  On these days it is not Christendom that consoles us, not an image of God in the highest, but an image of Christ in the lowest.  In the midst of human despair, we are given the cross to cling to, the picture of Jesus in his own unyielding despair, suffering both with us and on our behalves.  Following him as savior, we must follow him to the cross, where we find, in his life cut short, hope for our own wounds and our own brief lifetimes, and life where death stings and tears flow. 


Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Euripides, Hippolytus, Lines 195-199.
(2) Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 5, scene 5, 19–28.
(3) Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, A Nietzsche Reader (New York: Penguin, 1977), 201.
(4) Bertrand Russell, “A Free Man’s Worship” Mysticism and Logic and Other Essays (New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1918), 46.

You're Doing It Wrong!

Proverbs 14:12 says as much. There are many ways to do something wrong and invariably, most people find those ways while steadfastly maintaining their way is the right way. Now when I write 'most people' I really mean me.

We are five weeks into our season, nine games played and five discipleship meetings with Coach Wooden. Yet one thing seems to be clear, I'm doing it wrong.

Allow me to explain.

Two weeks into our season, our top player and leader was hit in the head with a baseball and spent four days in the hospital. It was a throw from 45 feet but thrown perfectly enough to puncture his ear drum, giving him vertigo and temporary loss of hearing.

Another one of our starters is out for the year with a stress fracture in his vertebrae. Our starting shortstop is on the shelf for 7-10 days as he cannot throw. Another player cannot run due to a diagnosis regarding his leg that I cannot pronounce.

Two Saturday's ago our RF and CF collided on the second to last play of the game and put the RF out for the rest of the weekend tournament.

On Saturday, our starting LHP was trying to execute a bunt and run on a pitch up and in. The ball grazed his bat but fully connected on a spot on his cheekbone. So clean was the contact it left seams on his cheek while nearly closing his eye. Of course, we were playing with only nine as a number of other issues for that day were out of our control.

JD with the traces of the ball on his cheek

 In that same game, our sophomore super utility player stole second and got hit in the shoulder with the ball. Our RF and 2B then nearly took each other out on a shallow fly to right.

So what, you may say, that's all coincidence, Andy! Sure, I can buy that with the understanding sports have an inherent risk and things are bound to happen in the course of a season for which we may have no explanation.

In baseball, the variables are enumerable and very few things are within our control. Really, only my attitude, my response to adversity and my effort are controllable. Everything else is in that area of insanity which makes the game so beautiful in its own twisted way.

The scene in Bull Durham can describe our way (Nuke LaLoosh) and God's way (Crash Davis). God calls for the curve and in our pride, we want to announce our presence with authority, so we throw the fastball to a first pitch, fast ball hitter. The results are predictable. Will I make the adjustment or just say the hitter got lucky?

Could there be another avenue, one I am reluctant to go down simply because it indicts me? In other words, am I doing it wrong? Self deception allows us to continue in our ways. We get so used to our way and methodology because it's what we know. It's comfortable and it doesn't require much creativity, and by God, "it's always worked for me!"

It is in the darkness of their eyes that men get lost - Black Elk

In the book, "Leadership and Self Deception" there is a passage which states, "To the extent we are self deceived, our leadership is undermined at every turn-and not because of others or obstacles. It is because of us". So, when we are deceived we see neither ourselves or others very clearly. In doing what we always do, we undermine our efforts and undermine our relationships.

So because something 'works' it's good, right? To clarify, it isn't our stretching routines, practices or training methods I am calling into account. God is in the details and it seems he is more interested in small things, rather than large things. Luke 16:10. In this case, there is something else at work, something transcendent, i.e. - something God is doing and it may be up to us to catch it, hopefully before ignorance and bliss is set like concrete on this season.

Jeremiah 17:9-10 tells me all I need to know about my heart. The sobering thought today is how many times have I attributed to God's hand what is really my hand?

Well, our coaching staff is trying to figure out what God is trying to say besides, "Stop playing!" and I am in that area of not really knowing but afraid to go further because I would have to stay outside the camp for seven days like Miriam did when she was whining away about what God was doing (Numbers 12:1-16).

In Psalm 91 we are told that if we dwell in the secret place of the most high we shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty. Now, I can say with certainty I have been in and out of the secret place (mostly out) but I can still sense being in his shadow. I cannot explain it other than seeing lots of arrows coming our way but never getting through. There is a peace.

But here is the rub. Am I fooling myself (am I deceived by me) into that peace when I should be diligently taking stock of my life and how my decisions have an effect on others. Well, it is possible to have both going on at the same time. That, in part, is how we work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Philippians 2:11-13.

So, what next? This is the first time I have ever thought, "Am I the cause?". Yes, it is a bit ego-centric but not in the way typically thought when using the term. Rather, it is in the same way Jonah told his shipmates to throw him overboard in order to save the people on the boat.

Of course, my rationale isn't on par with Jonah. I don't think I have that much courage. Yet, another verse comes to mind when thinking on this thing: Proverbs 3:5-6

The tension in wanting my way to work and get credit for it while still wanting it to be God's way is an interesting scenario played out, if not daily, then weekly.

Oh, and my way? I don't want it.

It's Just What We Do...

In his closing remarks in a speech he gave at the Harrow School in 1941, Winston Churchill said:

Never give in. Never give in. Never, never, never, never--in nothing, great or small, large or petty--never give in, except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force. Never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.

Over the weekend I got the privilege of spending time with our youngest son, Noah. His seventh grade basketball team played in their season ending tournament with area TAPPS JH teams. The Faith team went into the tourney as the number one seed and found themselves on the ropes in their semi-final game against Arlington Grace Prep.

I kept the book, which is usually good for me because it keeps my mouth from opening too much. It's not foolproof, but most everyone knows the best way to keep me from coaching is to give me so much to do during the game that I have little time to say much of anything.

The JH Lions' entered the 4th quarter down by 13 points, 29-16 and had been listless defensively and inept offensively. However, one thing I've learned watching this group compete over the last four years is this: they are relentless.

I'm not suggesting our JH'ers had Grace Prep where they wanted them, but in a span of three minutes they had erased the lead and tied things up at 31 with just over a minute to go. Early in the 4th, I was texting Cory, (who was in Midland with our oldest, Zachariah, as the JV and Varsity played out West.) about how we would probably be going home a bit early due to the result.

The JH Lions started pressing in the 4th and forced several turnovers and converted them into easy buckets, mixed in with a couple of big 3's. The tenacity with which they played those last six minutes was an absolute joy to watch. Not only did I see determination and grit upon the eyes of those young men, I also noticed joy as they whittled the lead down to nothing. The players on the bench rising in a crescendo of cheers, the parents cheering them on with guarded optimism and our two coaches spurring them on during the 15-2 run over a three and half minute span.

I saw joy.

That picture of Noah up top captures the essence of Noah in competition. It also captures the mindset of this team. Every one of the players on the basketball team played on the football team in the fall. The football team finished the season 9-0 and methodically dismantled teams with will, execution and passion.

They just love to compete. They have found joy in giving everything they are capable of giving. There may have been tears after the game if they had lost, but I think they would have also known they played like they had practiced; they played to their potential, perfectly for six glorious minutes.

They have created for themselves a culture where it is acceptable and expected to give their best. It is an anomaly and an anathema to them to see mediocre effort from each other. It is out of place and something doesn't mesh with them if someone isn't on the floor after loose balls, taking charges or getting a bloody nose in practice.

It's just what they do now...in seventh grade. Am I making a big deal about a bunch of JH boys? No, I'm making a big deal about young men learning about determination and exhibiting enough courage to see a task through to the very end. You think that might bear fruit for us and our culture somewhere in the future? Better yet, are the lessons they're learning right now going to help them to meet challenges with confidence and trust that God is indeed working all things out for their good?

This is why I love sports. Sure, there is a downside to all of this if perspective is lost. If we make sports all about the end without having the end in mind, it's pretty futile.

So, I saw joy manifest when the game ended, and yes, there was relief as well. They did what they were supposed to do and they did it in a way that put a stamp on their season.

A recognizable signature. It's just what we do, they think to themselves.

It wasn't a surprise for any parent who has watched this team play. I would say the common reaction was "it was just a matter of time" or "aha, there's the team I know!"

The championship game was anti-climatic. Any hope the other team had to catch this team in the let down phase of joy and excitement was soon put to rest. The JH Lions slowly and systematically pulled away and finished the season with a 35-20 victory. The game was representative of the way they've played since August (football). Together, with passion, skill and joy.

7th Grade District League and Tournament Champions

The Exegesis of Success

Our team has now covered the two cornerstones of John Wooden's Pyramid of Success in our discipleship time on Wednesdays.

Industriousness and Enthusiasm

Wooden defined success as "peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best of which you are capable"

No, not this kind of peace of mind where absence of conflict and competition define peace. I'm talking about a peace of mind which is the best pillow at night. I don't think we can rest easy when we know we haven't given our best. We will always be restless when we haven't worked to our potential.

I find it interesting we can't find rest because we can't find peace. Where can peace be found?
I think Colossians 3:23 and Ecclesiastes 9:10 give us a good picture of where to find peace. Granted, we know that Paul told us about spiritual and mental peace here: Philippians 4:7

I've got to put my heart into what I'm doing. Cory used to tell me early in our marriage, "Don't give me your best and then pull it back. I know when you give me your best, you've got it in you."

I think there are three reasons why people don't give their best:

1. Their best won't be 'good enough' and therefore they will have failed at giving their best and be hesitant to give their best again for fear of their best not being good enough the next time.
2. If they give their best, people will expect it again and the pressure or obligation to be 'on' is too much. Therefore, it is much easier to be 'average' and surprise people every once in awhile.
3. They are not sure where their best is going to lead them. Maybe to greatness or maybe it's a setup to a colossal failure. Note this exchange from an episode of Seinfeld:

GEORGE: What if the pilot gets picked up and it becomes a series?
DANA: That'd be wonderful George, you'll be rich and successful.
GEORGE: Yeah, that's exactly what I'm worried about. God would never let me be successful. He'd kill me first. He'd never let me be happy.
DANA: I thought you didn't believe in God?
GEORGE: I do for the bad things.

The reality is most people are quite content with having low expectations for themselves. The problem is most people define success as a destination, when in fact it has nothing to do with arriving anywhere.

You've heard it's all about the journey? Well, it's true. The vehicle in which you're using along the journey is important. The arrival is important, but how one gets there is more important.

I'm going to use a sports analogy from the world of basketball to illustrate this.
Kids in the elementary grades shoot basketballs with poor form quite often. However, some of the shots do go in the basket and there isn't a kid in the world that would stop and ask, "Did I use the correct fundamentals on that shot?"

No, they will simply be excited the ball went through the hoop. But somebody will be sucking the joy out of that basket and letting the kid know something or somethings were not right in the shot. (Uh, that would be me, thank you)

Of course, the result was positive but the way or process was not fundamentally sound, therefore it should not be repeated. What happens when the young pupil executes perfect fundamentals and the shot doesn't go? Praise it, reinforce it and do it with enthusiasm. I'm not advocating "make everyone feel good about throwing up bricks".

I'm advocating praising your son, daughter, player or spouse when they did the right thing but didn't get the desired result. We are a culture that looks at the bottom line = results.

I am questioning that premise...vigorously. If we look only for results we are going to get what CS Lewis predicted many years ago (and which has, sadly, come to pass in public education) about demanding results without establishing process:

"We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and then bid the geldings to be fruitful."

I cannot ask Zach and Noah to fix the flat if I haven't shown them where to find the jack and the spare tire.
I cannot ask Zach and Noah to be godly men without first living it myself, stumbles and all, and then walking and talking along the road with them.

How are you defining success? Is it process oriented or result oriented?

Regret

The person who has the most regret is the person who cheated themselves, their family, co-workers, friends and teammates along shared paths. Although hardly noticeable, if at all, by others and, perhaps even shrugged off by others as "life" happening, it is a blinding and paralyzing light you are sure others can see exposing you in front of them.

Yet, that light is just for you.

They can't see it...yet. Oh, you'll be found out, in time and God forbid, in a shameful way. In the meantime, regret screams at you in the confines of your own soul, taking up residence as if it belonged there your whole life.

But sin, in any form, chips away at the masterpiece that is you. You cannot live with the man you are not called to be and you cannot live with the man you are now; when who you are now is not in line with God's vision for you.

You can avoid regret by surrendering the areas you try to hide from others and God. Tashard Lewis spoke to his teammates before a game when he played football at Georgia Tech in which he called for everyone to give all they had or don't give anything at all. He wasn't willing to leave anything 'in the dark'.

Giving less than your best creates tension in your mind and conviction in your spirit. The spirit belongs to God and he gives freedom (2 Timothy 1:7) . A life in tension is a life in turmoil. A life in turmoil necessitates having multiple ways to cope and multiple 'faces' to maintain in order to 'keep up appearances'. You begin to wonder what man is really you.

"Am I the cheater of time and effort or am I that man I was when I was giving my best?".

There is an old saying the Postema's are fond of reciting. 

There are two kinds of pain: the pain of discipline and the pain of regret. Which will you choose?

What is easier to live with when all is said and done? The difference is in degree and in duration. C.S. Lewis says this about discipline and temptation:

A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is... A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in.

What is better for you?

Having fought, resisted and overcome your 'humanness' or simply giving in and doing what you've always done and give it the old "that which I do not want to do, I do and that which I don't want to do, I do" line? Yes, it's a great fall back for Christians, if you're into that sort of thing, living with the pain of regret.

I don't want to give in.
Everything I have or nothing at all.

Going to fight til I can't fight no more; lie down and bleed awhile. Get back up, fight some more.