The Height of Laziness

An old mountaineer and his wife were sitting in front of the fireplace one evening taking life easy.
After a long silence, the wife said: "Jed, I think it's raining. Why don't you get up and go outside and see?"
The old mountaineer continued to gaze into the fire for a while, sighed and then said, "Aw, Ma, why don't we just call in the dog and see if he's wet."
That's what you call the height of laziness. And I wouldn't want to say that we are downright lazy, but we all have a lazy streak in us.
And laziness is a faith killer.
If you're too lazy to open and read your Bible...
If you're too lazy to pray and be thankful to God...
If you're too lazy to memorize and meditate scriptures...
Read this: You Are In A Big Trouble!

Laziness is a good indicator that you're slipping away from the hands of God.

Old Mr. John's Memory Verse

The story is told of a Sunday class that had been asked the question, "In your time of discouragement, what is your favorite Scripture?" A young man said, "the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want Psalm 23:1."

A middle age woman said, "God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1."

Another woman said, "In this world you shall have tribulations, but be of good cheer, I have overcome this world. John 16:33-35."

Then old Mr. John who was 80 years old, with head of white hair and dark black skin, stood up and said with as much strength as he could muster, "and it came to pass 85 times in the Bible."

The class started to laugh a little thinking that old Mr. John's lack of memory was getting the best of him. When the snickering stopped, he said.

"At 30 I lost my job with six hungry mouths and a wife to feed. I didn't know how I would make it. At 40 my eldest son was killed overseas in the war. It knocked me down.

At 50 my house burned to the ground. Nothing was saved out of the house. At 60 my wife of 40 years got cancer. It slowly ate away at her. We cried together many a night on our knees in prayer.

At 65 she died. I still miss her today. The agony I went through in each of these situations was unbelievable. I wondered where God was. But each time I looked in the Bible I saw one of those 85 verses that said, 'and it came to pass.'

I felt that God was telling me, my pain and my circumstances were also going to pass and that God would get me through it."

Autogragh Your Life With Excellence

In 1644, a child was born. He lived to be 93 at a time in history when the average life span was but 35 to 40. He taught himself his trade and began his career. He often worked alone with primitive tools, but his focus every day was to put the best he had into his work. The man made violins. He labored over each and every process and step to ensure that he had “autographed” them with excellence and the best that was in him. He created his own personal standard of excellence for his craft, and he actually signed his name on each instrument that passed the test.

Today, some three hundred years later, the name of this craftsman who was committed to excellence is the benchmark for the best in musical instruments. His name? Antonio Stradivari! His Stradivarius violins sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars because they are the best. When Stradivari labored, he did not know of the legacy he was creating. He was doing his best, day in and day out, to reach his standard of excellence. He didn’t spend the extra time and care to get the accolades of upper management or to be the top producer in the company. He did it because excellence was part of his focus, mission, and obsession.

It is easy to do world-class work when a boss is looking or a supervisor is around. But the test is in what you do when no one is looking. High achievers have developed the ability to stay focused when no one else is around. Does your quality or performance fluctuate based on who is in the office or which customer you are serving? Excellence is not something that you can just turn on and off whenever you feel you need it. It is a habit rooted in your attitude about your life and career.

 

Denis Waitley

The Caddy

THE CADDY

Two golfers stepped up to the first tee on the St. Andrews course in New York. The older golfer was a kindly man who played a thoughtful, deliberate game. The younger golfer was full of pride and impatience.

On the first hole he sliced, lost his ball in the tall grass, hit another one, & had a score of 8 instead of 4 or 5. And the next hole was even worse.

Frustrated, he began hollering at the caddy: "Keep your eyes peeled. I'm not here to do your job for you!" Thereafter, every bad shot was the caddy's fault! At the end of the first 9 holes, the younger golfer was so upset that he discharged the caddy and carried his own bag. "That caddy made me nervous. He doesn't like me, and I blankety-blank sure don't like him! I say good riddance to him!"

After several more holes had been played without a word, the older golfer broke the silence: "Several years ago a little kid from Yonkers came up here and became a caddy. He was a sweet-natured boy; quick-witted, willing, and had a nose for golf. Everybody liked him. His name was William; he had a clubfoot. But that didn't affect his caddying. It was a pleasure to go out with him."

"A famous doctor, a member of the club, became interested in William and took him South that winter and operated on his foot. When William returned, he went back to caddying. The doctor, however, had to give up golf shortly after that because of his health. And it wasn't long after that when he died.

"Months later I was playing a round with William carrying my bag. It was Spring, the fields and hedges were alive with blossoms. William stopped several times to gather flowers until he had quite a bouquet. 'Who's the girl, William?' I asked. 'I haven't any girl, sir,' he said. 'They're for my friend, the doctor--twice a week I take flowers to his grave.'

"Now that's a caddy worth having," the younger golfer said. "What ever happened to him?" The older man paused and then replied, "For 9 holes he was carrying your bag."

(From a sermon by Melvin Newland, Thanksgiving and Praise, 11/24/2010)

The BEST Method for Sharing the Gospel

The BEST Method for Sharing the Gospel


One day a lady criticized D.L. Moody for his methods of evangelism in attempting to win people to the Lord.

Moody's reply was: “I agree with you. I don’t like the way I do it either. Tell me, how do you do it?” 

The lady replied, “I don’t do it.”

Moody retorted, “Then I like my way of doing it better than your way of not doing it.”

A lame method is better than no method at all when explaining the Gospel.

The Farmer and the Preacher

There’s a classic old story about a conversation between a farmer and a preacher. The story goes that the preacher was driving down a country road when he came upon the most beautiful farm he’d ever seen in his lifetime spent traveling rural roads. He could only compare it to a beautiful painting. It was by no means a new farm, but the house and buildings were well constructed and in perfect repair and paint. A garden around the house was filled with flowers and shrubs. A fine row of trees lined each side of the white gravel drive. The fields were beautifully tilled, and a fine herd of fat dairy cattle grazed knee-deep in the pasture. The site was so arresting the preacher stopped to drink it all in. He had been raised on a farm himself, and he knew a great one when he saw it

It was then he noticed the farmer, on a tractor, hard at work, approaching the place where the preacher stood beside his car. When the farmer got closer, the preacher hailed him. The farmer stopped the tractor, idled down the engine, and then shouted a friendly “hello!” The preacher said to him, “My good man, God has certainly blessed you with a magnificent farm.” And then, there was a pause as the farmer took off his cape and shifted in the tractor seat to take a look at his pride and joy. He then looked at the preacher and he said, “Yes, He has, and we’re grateful. But you should have seen this place when He had it all to Himself.”

Well, the preacher looked at the strong, friendly features of the farmer for a moment, smiled, and with a wave of his hand climbed back in his car and continued on his way. And he thought, that man has given me my sermon for next Sunday.

Every farmer along this road and in this country has been blessed with the same land, pretty much, and the same opportunity. Each has worked his farm according to his nature. Every farm, every home of every family in the country is the living reflection of the people who dwell in it. He understood that the land we’re given was not the acres we buy for our farm or the lot on which we build or buy a home, but rather the life we give it, what we do with what we have. Our lives are our plots of ground, and that’s the land we sow and from which we are then obliged to reap the resulting harvest. And the way we’ve sown will be reflected in every department of our lives.

Well, the farmer that the preacher had just talked to would reap an abundant harvest, not just when the time came for gathering his crops, but every time he looked around the place, every time he returned from town to that white gravel drive and trees that lined it and the fine home and gardens that stood at the end of it. He was grateful for what he had. But he knew that it was not what is given us that makes the difference, but rather what we do with it, what we make of what we have. Yes, sir, the preacher thought as he smiled and drove his car along the road to town. He had his sermon for next Sunday, and it would be a good one.

Each one of us is a farmer. Our lives are the plots of ground that have been given to us free and clear. If we’re wise, we too, will reap the abundant harvest, for the planting is left strictly to us.

Earl Nightingale

The Thread of a Dream

When I was researching the history of the building of the Brooklyn Bridge as a major illustration for the ideas of success and motivation, I became engrossed with the story of how the first bridge was built over the Niagara River near Niagara Falls. You see, to build a bridge over a giant gorge, first you have to get a line over the canyon, from one side to the other. Easier said than done at Niagara Falls.

The engineers couldn’t cross the river in a boat to take the line from one side to the other because the boat would go over the falls. And the airplane hadn’t been invented yet. The distance was also way beyond the bow-and-arrow range, which had been a common method at the time of getting the first line across to build a bridge.

The designing engineer, Charles Ellet, pondered the question until he came up with a revolutionary idea. He decided that, while solving the problem, he would also have some fun and generate some publicity for the project. Ellet sponsored a kite flying contest and offered five dollars to the first person who could fly a kite across the gorge and let it go low enough to the ground for someone to be able to grab the string. In 1849, five dollars was a prize similar to a small lottery today. The boy who won the prize relished his accomplishment until his death, nearly 80 years later.

It all began with an idea and one thin kite string. The kite string was used to pull a cord across, then a line, then a rope. Next came an iron-wire cable and then steel cables, until a structure strong enough to build a suspension bridge was in place.

I’m struck by how that string is like a single thought. The more vivid and clear the thought, and the more you come back to it, the stronger it becomes—like the string to the rope to a cable. Each time you rethink it, dwell on it, or layer it with other thoughts, you are strengthening the structure on which to build your idea, like building a bridge over Niagara Falls. But unlike a kite, there is no string attached to how high and how far your goals may take you. They are limited only by the power of your imagination and the strength of your desire.

Denis Waitley