Would You Swap Places With This Rich Guy?

A young man named Steve Walker walked into Zig Ziglar's office years ago. A friend of his had flown him down from Toronto because he wanted Steve to see Zig. He thought Steve needed a change.

Turns out Steve left for work at six in the morning, and he got home every night between ten and eleven. That was six days a week. On Sundays he was so exhausted he slept all day.

He had no family life. He was so tired he had run off the road two or three times driving back and forth the 20 or 30 miles he had to go to his job. His wife was threatening to divorce him. Everything in this guy's life was falling apart - the whole nine yards.

Steve's friend had forewarned Zig of all this, and when Zig met with Steve, he discovered his boss was the person he looked up to the most.

"Why is that?" Zig asked him.

"Most successful man I've ever seen."

"Okay,” Zig said, "let's look at your boss. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to give your boss a plus or a minus grade on all the questions I'm going to ask you."

"Okay."

He asked, "Steve, how happy is your boss?"

Steve thought a minute. "I never really thought about it until now, but I don't think he's happy at all."

"Well, we'll give him a minus on that, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Why do you say you don't think he's happy?"

"Well, uh, number one, I've never heard him laugh. He seldom smiles, and besides that he has ulcers."

"Well, let's see now, that tells me something about his health. Do we give him a plus or minus on that?"

"Oh, that looks like a minus."

Zig said, "If he's got ulcers, that tells me something about his peace of mind. Do we give him a plus or a minus?"

"I'd say another minus."

"Okay," Zig continued. "How prosperous is your boss?"

He said, "Man, he's got money running out of his ears. That's why he's my role model."

"I guess we give him a big old plus on that one."

"Absolutely!" said Steve.

Zig said, "How secure is he?"

"Well, he's as secure as money can make you."

"We had some billionaire brothers here in Dallas who went bankrupt. How does your boss compare?"

"He doesn't have that kind of money."

"We had an industrialist here who was worth half a billion. Does he have that kind of money?"

"No way."

"We had another one, a former governor worth a hundred million at one time. He's bankrupt. How does your boss compare?"

Steve said, "Oh, man, he doesn't have that kind of money."

"Well, I don't want to give him a plus, I don't want to give him a minus. What about a question mark? Would that be fair?"

"I never thought I would say this," he said, "but that would be more than fair."

"How many friends does your boss have?"

Steve pondered for a moment. "Really, I don't think he has any. I'm not his friend; I just admire him because he's so successful. To tell you the truth, the guy's somewhat of a jerk."

"Well, we're sure going to give him a minus on that, aren't we?"

He sighed, "Once again, yes."

Zig said, "Tell me about his family."

"Well, his wife's divorcing him."

"Then we have to give him a minus for that."

"Yes we do. I can't believe it! He's getting a minus on everything."

"How much hope does he have for the future?"

"Well, before I started talking to you, I thought he had lots. But now I don't think he has any real hope."

"Well," Zig said, "another minus."

"Yep."

"Steve, let me ask you a question. Of the eight things everybody wants, your boss gets a minus on six, a plus on one, and a question mark on one. Knowing what you know, would you swap places with him?"

Loyalty and Faithfulness

Sullivan Ballou was a lawyer, a politician and a Major in the United States Army, but may best be remembered for the letter he wrote to his wife the week before he fought and was killed in the Battle of Bull Run. 

July the 14th, 1861 Washington D.C.

My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. 

Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.  

Sullivan

There’s a message here for the masculine heart.  “A man must have a battle to fight, a great mission to his life . . . a cause to which he is devoted even unto death.  That is why God created you—to be his intimate ally, to join him in the Great Battle.”  (Wild at Heart, John Eldridge)

The Lord will go forth like a warrior, He will arouse His zeal like a man of war.  He will utter a shout, yes, He will raise a war cry. He will prevail against his enemies. Isa. 42:13

Is Your Ticket Confirmed?

Sometime when you're in an airport, observe the difference between passengers who hold confirmed tickets and those who are on standby. The ones with confirmed tickets read newspapers, chat with their friends or sleep. The ones on standby hang around the ticket counter, pace and smoke, smoke and pace. 

The difference is caused by the confidence factor. If you knew that in fifteen minutes you would have to stand in judgment before the Holy God and learn your eternal destiny, what would your reaction be? Would you smoke and pace? 

Would you say to yourself, "I don't know what God's going to say--will it be 'Welcome home, child,' or will it be 'Depart from me; I never knew you'?  

Bill Hybels, Too Busy Not To Pray,  IVP, p. 113.

The Difference Between Hummingbird and Vulture

Both the hummingbird and the vulture fly over our nation's deserts. All vultures see is rotting meat, because that is what they look for. 

They thrive on that diet. But hummingbirds ignore the smelly flesh of dead animals. Instead, they look for the colorful blossoms of desert plants. 

The vultures live on what was. They live on the past. They fill themselves with what is dead and gone. But hummingbirds live on what is. They seek new life. They fill themselves with freshness and life. 

Each bird finds what it is looking for. We all do.  

Steve Goodier, Quote Magazine, in Reader's Digest, May, 1990.