Scientists conducted a social experiment with two groups of commuters at a train station. They asked one group to start conversations with their seatmates. They instructed the other group to remain silent. The commuters who talked while traveling said they had a “more positive experience” than those who did not. Initially, commuters believed starting a conversation would be hard, but they found that most people were happily willing to talk.
My first roommate in college didn’t seem to want to be friends. He listened to music with his headphones on and stared at his computer all day, and nearly all night. He didn’t want to joke around or share a meal. We rarely spoke for the first few weeks. He simply didn’t want to interact.
A newly elected senator vows to be a new kind of politician, but by the time he runs again he’s in the pocket of special interest groups. An actress goes to Hollywood to star in wholesome movies, but soon she compromises. Both started out trying to reach the world, but instead they lost their way.
Not long ago I was certain that God was moving my husband and me in a specific direction. Two different sources, without consulting one another, encouraged us to pursue the same opportunity. So we did. Doors flew open as we kept moving forward. We were encouraged and excited, for what we never thought would happen was coming together right before our very eyes. As we bathed the whole process in prayer, God seemed to be honoring our requests. Until the eleventh hour, that is. That’s when the final door was slammed shut in our faces. We were shocked, and felt cheated and tricked by God. There was absolutely no way to make our dream a reality.
Chinese Christians inspire me. Their slogan is “Back to Jerusalem,” for the Christian faith spread mostly west from Jerusalem through Europe and northern Africa to the Americas—lands that sent missionaries to Asia. Now Chinese believers aim to spread the gospel through the Middle East until the church reaches Jerusalem, where it all began. The task will be dangerous, but they’re willing to risk everything for Jesus.
It’s winter in New York City. The air temperature hovers just above freezing. A man puts on his wet suit and prepares to ride the waves at Long Beach, an area southeast of Queens where he lives. As he faces the water, he meditates on avoiding danger and prays to the ocean gods. His surfboard—a 9-foot Hawaiian-made job—features a picture of his now-deceased spiritual guru. The man says of the image, “It keeps me centered.”
She told me that she was depressed. It was so bad that she had attempted suicide more than once. And even though she wasn’t at a dangerously dark state at that moment, she was still in a deep hole. Struggling with sleep, she hadn’t enjoyed a good night’s rest in a long, long time.
George Whitfield, the Anglican preacher who was part of the Great Awakening in the American colonies, once said, “Come away, my dear brethren—fly, fly, fly for your lives to Jesus Christ, fly to a bleeding God, fly to a throne of grace . . . beg of God to give you faith, and to enable you to be close with Jesus Christ.” Long before Whitfield encouraged believers to fly to Jesus, the writer of Hebrews encouraged weary believers to approach Him boldly and confidently as their Great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14,16).
Many years ago I was the youth minister of a church. I was in over my head, burning out quickly, and in need of time with God. So I arranged a retreat for a few days at a friend’s cabin in the country.
Mimi began working at a brothel in her early 20s. The big money began funding a lavish lifestyle, but working nights meant she lost touch with her friends. Soon things began spiraling out of control.
The 1965 movie Shenandoah stars Jimmy Stewart as Charlie Anderson, an authoritarian father of seven who farms in the Shenandoah Valley. Set during the American Civil War, the film explores themes of war, family, and restoration.
Just over a year ago, I made a New Year’s resolution to be faithful in prayer. The New Year came and I was off to a good start. But as the days got busier, I struggled to stay focused during my morning prayers, and my body began begging for more sleep. Yawn.
Kim Nguyen was preparing for her doctoral exams in Old Testament when she learned that she would need surgery on her eyes. She should have recovered in 2 weeks, but 6 months later she still couldn’t see. She feared that her dream of teaching the Bible was slipping away. How could she write her dissertation if she couldn’t see? How would she find work to pay back her student loans?
When I was in seventh grade, my math teacher showed me two separate lines that had arrows at their ends. One had the arrows pointed inward like this: >-<. The other had the arrows pointed outward like this: <->. My teacher asked me which of the two lines was longer and I answered that it was the one with the arrows pointed inward. He took out a ruler and measured them, showing me that they were identical in length! I took another look and—despite my teacher having just proved that they were the same length—stubbornly clung to the belief that my answer had been the right one.
Well-known seminary president Haddon Robinson was meeting with a wealthy donor to seek a sizable contribution. (I assume that it was for a ministry project.) When Robinson asked for a specific amount, the donor said something like this: “I was prepared to give you much more if you had asked.”