The world is horrified by the images. We watch as a toddler in China gets run over by a car….twice. 18 people have the opportunity to save this helpless child, but they avert their eyes and pass by. By the time a stranger picks up the tiny, broken body, it is too late. The child would not survive.

Is this us? Is this what we have become?

Not entirely.

I live in Indianapolis, and this summer during a severe summer squall, a straight line wind of over 70 miles per hour toppled the stage trusses supporting the lighting and sound systems at the Sugarland concert at the Indiana State Fair . 4 people were killed, and several people were trapped beneath the crushing weight of the trusses.

As lightning, thunder and horizontal rain pelted the crowd, something amazing happened. Hundreds of onlookers, instead of running for cover, jumped over barriers and fences and ran toward the stage. Ignoring the grave danger, they worked together to lift the trusses off trapped victims. Why?

Because it was the right thing to do.

I am writing this on a flight from Bangkok, where I attended a conference with my organization – Campus Crusade for Christ. As you know, floods have ravaged this nation, and millions of people have lost their homes, their possessions, their livelihoods and even their lives.

In the midst of this mounting catastrophe, the CCC staff that live in Thailand had a decision…..should they work to protect their own homes, or should they leave their material lives to the floodwaters and help others in need? Knowing they would lose everything they owned, they made the only decision their faith left them. They helped others. But why?

Because it was the right thing to do.

They made this sacrifice without any promise of personal recovery, but perhaps we can do something to thank these heroes. If you would like to help, you can donate to them here. Why?

Because it’s the right thing to do.

Here’s a video on the effort to help….thanks for considering this!

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Motorcycles, boats, planes, remote-controlled cars….anything fast. As anyone with the need for speed knows, however, the love of velocity can also be risky business.

I remember my first and only trip to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the Indy 500. One of my good friends was college roommates with one of the top drivers that year, and he got us pit passes for the race. While almost 200,000 people were in the stands, WE were allowed on the track! I was standing literally 3 feet from one of the Indy Cars when I heard, “Gentlemen, start your engines!” As the cars roared away, I ran off the track and over the pit wall. It was an exhilarating experience.

While standing in the pits produced some amazing moments early in the race, honestly, it got a little boring after 30 minutes or so. Why? Well, we could only see about 100 feet of the track from where we were situated, right at track level, and at the speeds the cars were carrying, we couldn’t even tell what color the cars were, much less who was driving. Eventually we took some seats in the grandstands. It wasn’t as frenetic and exciting, but it definitely gave us a better and more enjoyable view of the race.

My life is often like that Indy 500. I love the exhilaration of the pace, the roar of my schedule, and the riskiness of trying to accomplish more than I should sanely attempt. But there is a problem…

I miss the race.

As husband and father of a beautiful family, I am prone to miss out on the big picture in order to experience the adrenal rush of the speed of my life. Oh, how beautiful my life looks when I slow down a little and watch from 30 rows up.

How about you?

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The date was September 22, 2007, and thanks to a friend’s generosity, I was given tickets to the Michigan-Penn State game. Michigan didn’t have a very good team, but the crowd at the Big House was still amped up. It was a fun atmosphere for me and my then 11 year-old son.

The game was a grinder. Mid-way through the 4th quarter, the score was 7-6 Michigan. The Wolverine offense, quarterbacked by freshman Ryan Mallett, was basically one-dimensional. Team captain Mike Hart finished the game with 44 carries for 153 yards. He was it….the only bright spot on offense.

The Wolverines eventually pushed ahead 14-6, only to see the Nittany Lions come back with a field goal, making the score 14-9. With 6 minutes left in the game, Michigan got the ball and was desperate to run out some clock. They handed the ball to Mike Hart…..and kept handing it to him, over and over again.

With 3 minutes to play, Hart ran up the middle and was destroyed by a Penn State linebacker. It was the 41st carry of the game for the running back, and when he was carried off the field, there was a sense of dread in the crowd. Their leader was gone.

Penn State called a timeout. It was 3rd and 3, and without Hart, you could sense the Nittany Lions thought they could stop Michigan, get the ball back and put the game away. That’s when I watched the drama unfold on the sidelines. Hart had positioned himself away from the coaches, and just before the timeout was over, he limped onto the field and told the running back who had replaced him to go back to the sideline. When he lined up in the backfield, I think everyone, including the coaches, looked on in shock.

Hart knew what was coming, and he did his job perfectly. At the snap of the ball, the Penn State defense blitzed their linebackers, hoping to catch the freshman quarterback off-guard and cause an interception, a fumble, or at the very least, an incomplete pass. As Mallett faded back, the injured Hart stepped in front of the linebacker just before he reached Mallett, and he crushed the defender and put him flat on his back. Pass complete, 1st down, game essentially over.

Mike Hart, who could hardly walk, came back on the field at the perfect moment.

To block. For someone else.

I have watched a lot of football in my life, but I will remember that play as long as I have a memory. THAT was leadership.

And at least one person was watching.

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In recent weeks, my responsibilities in virtually every area of my life have increased. Less time, fewer resources, less time for relationships….700 miles per hour with my hair on fire all the time. It’s not a healthy way to live, and I know it. But do I change anything?

See, the problem is that by nature I am a positive guy. I recently took a personality test that seeks to identify each person’s top 5 strengths. My top strength?

Positivity.

Huh? Is that even a “strength”??

To be honest, I think I’m really more of an ostrich than an optimist. Instead of having a positive outlook on reality, I am, at times, more apt to look upon difficulties and trials and bury my head in the sand….pretending that everything’s okay by ignoring the problem. Eventually, it catches up with me and I land on life’s great debilitator…

Worry.

Worry sucks the life out of us. It kills our joy and shields us from the beauty that surrounds us. As Corrie Ten Boom stated so perfectly, “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.”

So what kills worry? Well, if you read the title of this blog post, you know my answer…hope. I don’t have a corner on the pain and sorrow market, but I have certainly had some dark moments, and it is hope that has sustained me, powering me invisibly forward, helping me get my eyes off myself and on to something productive and purposeful.

I think it is a theory of quantum physics that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. I believe what’s true in quantum physics is also true in life, and that worry and hope cannot exist in the same space. My hope is in my relationship with my Creator.

Where’s your hope? I’d love to hear about it….

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“Did you cry when you watched ‘Brian’s Song’?”

Now, let me be clear here. I cry at supermarket openings and McDonald’s commercials, so I was never the litmus test for manliness. That being said, if crying at videos is grounds for giving up one’s “man card”, I defy any guy to watch the video below without turning it in on the spot.

The men and women that serve us are amazing, but I rarely think about their sacrifice in the context of the little people they leave behind. This video will change all that…and it will for you, too.

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When I was single, the trek was easy. I just packed up and left. As my family grew, however, this trip required some planning…someone had to take care of our house, our yard and our dog.

Several years ago, when my kids were little, we asked an 18 year-old girl if she’d house-sit for us when we ventured west. She was mature for her age, and we knew that she’d take care of the place, and our dog, to the best of her ability. We returned to find the everything in good shape, and generally as we left it.

Or so I thought.

A couple days after returning home, I realized that there was a strange plant growing outside our back door. It wasn’t unusual for us to have a weed or two grow through the cracks of our brick pavers, but this plant looked strange….it had grown large very quickly and had red stems leading to the green leaves. I went to my computer and “googled” the plant, and when I saw the picture of my strange weed and read the description, I couldn’t act fast enough.

Jimson weed. Poison.

The description read: “Symptoms include incoherent speech, impaired coordination; rapid heart beat; and dry, flushed or hot skin. In extreme cases, users can experience seizures, intense visual or auditory hallucinations, or cardiac arrest.” Yikes!

Having small children who put everything in their little mouths, I was horrified. What might have happened had my kids found the plant before I did? I shudder at the thought even today.

The 18 year-old girl who watched this plant grow had no idea what it was. Why should she have considered it harmful to anything, much less my kids? She wasn’t wired to think that way. If I had one of my close friends staying in the house, however, I’m pretty sure they’d have been at least observant enough to know that I wouldn’t want a large nasty weed growing up through my pavers. Perhaps they’d have been a little concerned by the ominous look of that fast-growing weed as well.

Here’s my point….who’s watching your backyard? Do you have friends, close friends, who know you and love you enough to speak freely when they see poisonous plants growing in your backyard? Do you have people who will speak up when they see you jeopardizing your job, your kids or your marriage? Who is is your community that will be honest enough to uproot the poisonous plant that threatens you?

I’d love to hear your thoughts…

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My brother Todd is like that. He is able to subdivide anything he is talking about into bite-size morsels that are easily digestible. Just last week, my 14 year-old listened to him share the physics and movements behind a particular knee-board trick. The first time my son tried to execute it, he performed it! Yes, he did a great job, but his teacher also connected with him, giving him everything he needed to know to learn effectively.

This afternoon I saw a video on TED that moved me….as much for the teacher’s skill as for the topic. If you have 20 minutes to spend, I think this video would be worth the investment.

Then I met Dave.

Dave was a really good player, and playing with him made me suddenly discontent with my progress. Sure, I could break 100, but could I break 90? I asked Dave….”Dave, can I break 90?” He said, “no”.

WHAT??? NO??

Well, he explained that I’d never break 90 as long as I kept the swing I had developed. To improve, I would basically have to start over, get quite a bit worse for a while, and rebuild my swing.

I did that, with great success….I was shooting 120 in no time!

As I continued to work on these new techniques, however, I began to see change….real change, and before long, I was scoring in the low 80′s. It was a painful process, but it worked at some level.

What’s the old saying (alternately attributed to Mark Twain, Benjamin Franklin or Albert Einstein)? Something like, “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

There are many areas of my life where I need to adopt a new strategy….I need to jettison my mediocre thinking and drive toward something better and more effective. Sure, in the short run, it may get messy. But I’d take a short term loss for a long term gain any day. How about you?

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First, there was an opening round 67 by the 60-something Tom Watson, and another great round for the 50-something Freddie Couples. Then there was Phil, lighting up the links with his smile and his mad game…at one point, going 5-under on three holes! And of course, all the hoopla surrounding the return of Tiger Woods.

By now you know the story.

Mickelson, whose wife Amy has been battling breast cancer for the past year, showed courage and tenacity to defeat the field, including the embattled Woods.

In many national publications, the story of these two men has been seen as a morality play. Many writers have been clear….Phil’s victory was a victory for women and for all that’s good in sport. In their view, a Tiger victory would have sent the wrong message. (Click on these names to see articles by Rick Reilly and Jason Whitlock.)

In the midst of this drama, many sportswriters are ripping their colleagues. (Check out Greg Doyel and Michael Wilbon.) Their contention is that if you believe all the hype about Phil, then you are bound to be duped…again. Who knows….he might be a mirage, too?

This brings me to Malcolm Gladwell. In his amazing book “Blink“, Gladwell asserts that we often make judgements….correct judgements, in the “blink of an eye.” (It’s a great book….you should read it!)

Now, why does that matter in this instance? Because, frankly, I believe Phil to be exactly who he appears to be, and I never thought Tiger was who he appeared to be. That doesn’t make him a bad guy necessarily…just a guy who is not knowable from a distance. Watch Mickelson sign autographs sometime. He is always smiling, and he looks each person in the eye. His affection for his wife is obvious, and though some would paint him as a phony-too-good-to-be-true husband and father, those closest to him don’t fear him, they revere him.

This blog post is not meant to trash Tiger Woods. I just think it’s interesting that typically cynical sportswriters are being called out by their brethren for believing what their eyes saw. We could all be wrong. Tomorrow, Phil could be exposed as an ax murderer. But what does your “blink” tell you?

My blink says “believe it.”

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Last week, the leader of the group asked us to share the time in our lives when we experienced the most freedom. My mind went into hyper-speed. Even with all my synapses firing, desperately seeking even a faint memory of a moment of freedom, I came up empty. It’s not that I feel bound up, it’s just that the pace of my life is so intense that I rarely feel free.

But then I remembered.

It was in my moment of greatest trial that I actually felt the greatest sense of freedom. My oldest son had been diagnosed with cancer, and after spending several weeks deciding on the treatment path, my “part” was completed. I had come to the end of myself and clearly recognized that I could no longer control anything really important. There was nothing more I could do, other than perhaps the most important thing – pray.

I was free.

As the men in that Starbucks shared around our table, each shared a similar exprerience. In their moment of greatest need, of greatest dependence, these world-changing men found freedom.

Funny, isn’t it? We spend our lives running from anything associated with pain, but it’s in pain that we find our greatest freedom and growth. Perhaps James was right when he told us to “consider it pure joy” when we encounter trials.

Something to think about….

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