In March 2016, thirty-six-year-old Adam LaRoche, the first baseman for the Chicago White Sox professional baseball team in the US, resigned after he was told not to bring his fourteen-year-old son into the team’s clubhouse as often as had been his practice. LaRoche walked away from a $13-million contract. Simply put, he refused to place money or fame before family. He announced his retirement in a tweet that read, “Thank u Lord for the game of baseball and for giving me way more than I ever deserved! #FamilyFirst.”
“It was a bit painful. I didn’t want to go back into my life and imagine things that I hadn’t understood so far.” Those words from Ian McKellen, the actor who is perhaps best known for his portrayal of Gandalf in the movie trilogies The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, help explain why he cancelled a book contract for his autobiography. It was too painful.
I spent much of my post-college career as a sports journalist—regularly talking with Olympic and professional athletes who professed and modeled a life devoted to Jesus. It wasn’t until I had interviewed well over one hundred athletes that I realized I was more apt to share their testimonies with others than I was to share my own. I believed friends and acquaintances would rather hear about the athletes’ journeys than hear about mine.
With just a few lines of text, the relationship was over. Because I failed to open their messages, they notified me that my “email relationship” with their company and all its brands was “ending.” A humorous marketing ploy, the company’s response reminded me how much of our world today rests on superficial communication and tenuous commitment.
A new kind of conversion is taking place in England and Europe. Due to a steady decline of Christian belief and the high costs of maintaining churches, the ancient structures are being converted into bars and other commercial buildings. Some are even being used as mosques.
I walked into the kitchen to find my daughter seconds away from intense pain. She had poked her little finger in the space where two parts of a folding door were hinged together. With her free hand, she was about to close the door on her finger! When I asked what she was doing, she replied, “I’m testing my courage.” She was seeing how close she could come to having her finger pinched before backing off. Thankfully, I put an end to her painful experiment.
One of my favorite lines in Donita K. Paul’s Realm Walkers book series is, “The called must call upon the caller.” I don’t usually pause to ponder wording in the middle of an action-packed book, but this line left me thinking about what it means to be called.
We introduced our sons to the TV series Lost in which marooned passengers from a crashed jetliner try to survive on a mysterious island. It didn’t take long for our boys to start to groan at the end of each episode, aware of how masterful the writers were at creating cliffhangers. There appears to be no ending, only a series of new beginnings.
My dog has been trained to always come back to me the instant I call or whistle. It’s taken a lot of work to get this response. And now he consistently listens for me and responds immediately—no matter what distraction is vying for his attention. Since I can trust him, I’m able to take him off his leash and let him run around and explore the fields and woodlands. In short, because he’s been properly trained and can be trusted even when facing temptation, he can enjoy his freedom.
I spent my birthday this year at a conference with my husband and some friends. At the end of the conference, I enjoyed taking some time to talk with an acquaintance that is a year younger than I am. As we chatted, he said, “The older I get, the more I realize I haven’t accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish by now.” Then he wistfully remarked, “I may never accomplish it.”
“I stopped believing in God because of the Bible,” said the soup kitchen volunteer. “I couldn’t get over how many times it says God hates people!” I know that volunteer and find him to be a thoughtful young man. But is he right?
Movie director James Cameron has been responsible for some of the most popular movies of all time: The Terminator, Titanic, Avatar, and others. But what many people don’t know is that far from being removed from the details of filmmaking, Cameron is heavily involved with almost every aspect of the process, from cinematography to creative design. Drawing from his earlier experience as a designer, Cameron even played a key role in developing some of the fantastic special effects that are the centerpiece of his most famous films.
“Mom, I have an idea for a painting.” A spiritual representation of the restorative work of God, the picture had formed in my son’s mind during a worship service and included Ezekiel’s vision of a valley of dry bones. Though this most recent design was out of the ordinary for both Micah and his painting instructor, she willingly coached him from the beginning sketch to the final brushstroke.
“Pastor accused of hurting man in a road rage incident,” read the headline. My first response was to think, As a believer in Jesus, why wasn’t the pastor more forgiving? Why didn’t he show self-control when provoked? Then the realization hit me that I’m equally capable of such behavior. There have been too many times when I’ve been behind the wheel and my daughter has had to remind me, “Chill, Dad, chill.”
When artist Gary Sweeney decided to sell the home his family had owned for seventy years, he created a unique way of saying goodbye. Sweeney selected and enlarged one hundred family photos, placing them on pieces of plywood. He attached the plywood to the home’s exterior—covering the entire structure in memories.