B-log

Several year ago, Cotter fashioned a hammerhead shark out of clay for a school art project. He was so excited about it that he told us about it every step of the way. The first day he fashioned it from his own hands, using a picture from a National Geographic as a model.  The next day he painted it, and left it to be glazed and fired. He told us, “I got a little fancy with it, but it’s really cool.” Finally, he brought it home from school and offered it to me as a gift.

I held the glossy pink shark in my hands, with its black, blue, brown and yellow polka dots, and examined every detail. From its pencil eraser-indention eyes to the cuts in the side representing gills, from the blackened mouth to the split tail fin, this was the gift of my child. And the CJM carved into the sharks clay underbelly reminds me to this day of everything he put into presenting me with his gift. This is his gift to me and it is the finest hammerhead pink polka-dotted shark that has ever been crafted. I cherish his gift because I cherish my son.

I’ve been following Christ for half my life (give or take). As I understand it, I’m giving him the gift of my life. A lot of the time, I doubt it looks much like the example I’ve been given to model it after. It’s imperfect, to say the least. Such as it is, I give it to my Father because I love Him…and more important, because He loves me.

Of the many cool things about God…my Father in heaven…this is perhaps the coolest: He’s holy. And His holiness is so badly misunderstood because there’s nothing that compares to it. There’s lots of words that give us a clue to what his holiness is (or is like)…perfection, purity, righteousness…and these are all right and true. Make no mistake, though, no matter how you describe it, one essential quality is that His holiness is beautiful.

The gift I give my Father is what it is…imperfect, damaged, and maybe even kind of ugly. Giving my gift is my love-borne expression of worship, and my Father receives my gift in the beauty of holiness. The beauty of holiness transforms everything in its presence to be beautiful, too. I worship in the beauty of God’s holiness, and my gift is beautiful because His holiness is beautiful. 

There will never be enough words to explain the greatness of my Father in heaven.

Give unto the Lord the glory due His name; Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness. (Psalm 29:2)

(adapted from my archives)

I believe in generosity extended toward restaurant wait service. I tip a baseline of 15%, but service has to be pretty bad to not rise above it. Even when the order is wrong, or food is improperly prepared, I try to be gracious and still reward the waiter for their time and effort. Usually, McAnally tips hover in the 20-25% range. At the holidays, we give more, and we try a couple times a year (usually at Christmas), to tip the bill (100%).

Tipping well says a lot. It communicates:

• Appreciation for service.
• Acknowledgment of the person’s livelihood.
• A value of the dining experience
• The goodness of God.

Lest you think that last point is a stretch…Regardless of whether the waiter knows you, when you tip well, they will tend to identify you more favorably (particularly if you match your tip with an equally pleasant experience as a good guest with polite manners, grace, and gregariousness). However this is especially paramount if the wait service discovers that you identify yourself as a Christian (and try to make this an easy discovery for others to make).

When they connect your generosity with your Christian identity, it opens the door for you to speak about how generous God has been with you, and how it is natural and normal for God’s children to extend the blessing of generosity to others.

You don’t have to be a big spender to be a big tipper. Maybe you will go out slightly less if you are slightly more generous, but probably not. In all likelihood, you won’t even miss it. Everyone likes to be acknowledged, and I have seen wait service professionals demonstrate sincere appreciation for a thoughtful, generous gratuity.

As in many areas of life, you have been blessed to be a blessing. Don’t withhold that blessing, just because the chicken was a little rubbery.

(adapted, from the archives)

• “Creating a clear and compelling vision statement is not a simple matter.”  (Gordon Quick, founder, CEO Mentors)

• “Nothing matters more than the ownership of a vision.” (Bill Hybels) 

A few years ago, I spent extended time in a conference recently that talked extensively about vision. In a group of professionals responsible for the visions of their respective organizations, I was shocked to see how many of them (virtually all of them) could not articulate the vision for their organization for the next twelve months. Much of what was shared was iterations of mission or purpose statements.

This hearkens to Proverbs 29:18 which links a lack of vision in leaders to struggles in the people who follow.

A couple of things to note about vision, and the statement that captures it:

• A true vision comes from God (Hosea 12:10). Vision that does not come from God is illusion, delusion, or distraction, but not vision.
• Visions from God point people to God because he reveals himself in visions (Numbers 12:6). If you are pursuing a vision or following a vision that has a destination in anything other than God himself, you are not following God’s vision.
• True vision clarifies purpose, eliminates distractions, and puts action to mission. It opens the eyes of the vision caster (Numbers 24:4). A vision that confuses or complicates a person or a church from following God is not a God-given vision.
• There exist some who communicate a compelling vision, but it is not of God. (Jeremiah 23:16). Use biblical criteria to determine if the vision caster who has captured your ear is in fact one who has been captured by the Holy Spirit.
• God continues to be and will remain in the vision business until the need for visions cease (Joel 2:28). If your leader has been given God’s vision, follow that leader whole-heartedly as that leader follows Christ!

In 8th grade, Stacy moved to Craig from Rifle. We became friends the day she walked in to Mr. Ghiardelli’s English class, once I quickly realized that my smittenness for her would be unrequited. Stacy worked in a bank as a receptionist after high school. Today she is president of that bank. She’s kind of a rock star in that way.

Izzy was our high school basketball team’s best shooter and leading scorer. He also was our football team’s kicker/punter. He taught me every cuss word in Spanish (most of which I have forgotten). We used to give him a hard time for wearing Polo cologne, when Drakar Noir was clearly the better choice for the distinguished Northwestern Colorado young man.

My Uncle Gene was the Marlboro Man. He was a true cowboy who managed a ranch, roped cattle and told many campfire tales. He had a new joke every time we met. He was probably the hardest-working man I’ve known.

My Pledge Son from Boston, Jeff joined Sigma Chi and introduced me to the perceived superiority of all things originating from New England. A true Bronco “hateh,” Jeff disputed Elway’s greatness. He and I clicked on pretty much everything else. Today, Jeff works with the US Border Patrol, protecting us from the infiltration of illegal aliens…coming from our neighbors to the North.