I just had to share this story with everyone I can as soon as I saw it. I’m 1000 miles away but I can still pass on the light that my talented and bright siblings bring to the world.
Pastor Jay got me thinking the other day. He made a great point.
God always uses small numbers to work with. Not large numbers. He uses a baby in a stable, the runt of the litter, the shepherd, the little old lady…
If large numbers are used, God doesn’t get the credit; people will tend to believe that if a big campaign succeeded, it was due to a show of human force. An individual or a small group of people bringing down huge walls or parting seas DEMANDS that God receive the credit.
This is extremely encouraging to me because it reminds me that starting small, having small odds, or having big obstacles, are not really signs of trouble. They are not signs that I am way in over my head. (Or maybe, even still, being in over my head is a good place to be sometimes, especially when it comes to my dreams.)
In his great book that I’m reading, JOLT!, Phil Cooke talked about his brother-in-law (I think it was) who was an oil tanker captain. These massive ships are so big and heavily weighed down, and have such a small rudder, that they have to start turning 20 miles ahead of time in order to turn and change course!
Sometimes I see myself as a massive object: emotionally, physically, I can take a while to get going, but then when I do I can get momentum that is hard to stop. Maybe I can use this as more of an asset than I thought.
More importantly, my efforts to change my life and take on new challenges and change course is going to take a big push, but it is well worth the suspense.
What’s your favorite part of Braveheart?
(Yes, I am assuming you at least like the movie. It’s not too far-fetched.)
More specifically, what is the part that most makes you want to be a better person? That makes you respect Wallace (or whoever) the most?
I think mine is the part where Robert the Bruce confronts his dad. After the big betrayal, something is awakened deep in Robert—appearing like anger, but is so much more than that—and he becomes a different person. His father tells him all men lose heart. And he lashes back, “I DON’T WANT TO LOSE HEART!!!….I want to believe!”
That conversation between that father and son plays out over and over in my heart. I realize that I’m not unique in this. But I really need to scream back at the cynic within me a lot.
Has there ever been a turning point in your life which gave the power over to one of these men? Have you fallen to cynicism, or have you frustratingly and stubbornly shouted and risen against the gravity to take heart?