“In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their language.” -Mark Twain
In communication, clarity rules.
But logic is only one way people make sense of things. [click to continue…]
This is an interesting time. Another school year is in the books (to coin a phrase). I don’t think I’ve ever seen more snippets from graduation speeches than I have this year. Lots of talk about knowledge, the future, credentials and stuff.
It’s also a time for remembering, especially on this day, that freedom isn’t free. What we know and enjoy today is based on the sacrifices of men and women who gave their lives so we could be free from oppressive and abusive government.
It’s a time in which we are reminded almost daily that we live in a world where people die before they’re “supposed” to, and that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness may be inalienable rights, but they’re not time-bound guarantees.
At any point in our lives, most likely, we can point to things with humble gratitude and declare, “I don’t deserve this.” At any point in our lives, we can point to things with frustration and despair and declare, “I didn’t sign up for this.” At any point in our lives, it’s a valid question to ask, “Where is God in all this?”
So in this season of talk about knowledge and the future and no guarantees and credibility and freedom, I wanted to encourage you with some reminders that have encouraged me lately. [click to continue…]
(A Turning Point Story)
On Highway 43 North in Jackson, Alabama, the Joe C. McCorquodale, Jr. Bridge crosses the Tombigbee River and lands at the base of a mile-long bluff or hill that probably has some name I don’t know. All I knew at the time was that Ed’s Drive-In (formerly Troy’s) was at the top of it, and that’s where we stopped for a couple of cokes for the road. Next stop: Mobile. A hospital visit or two was surely on the agenda. Most likely a stop by Bel Air Mall or the Baptist Bookstore as well.
We turned south and started down the monstrous hill. Highway 43 is a nice, wide, divided highway, and the view south toward the river is really nice.
Which explains how ridiculous it was that just as I approached the Highway 69 intersection, a lady pulled out in the left lane, right in front of me.
Good. Stinkin’. Grief. [click to continue…]