Dare to Dream BIG

I recently read a post that discussed the power of showing versus telling.

“Telling gives us the pride of being logical, even algebraic, and that certainly has its place in business. At the same time, more often than not, it renders one’s message utterly boring and unmemorable. Worse, the receiver of one’s message is being talked at, rather than brought in to become part of the discussion, make their own connections, share the experience with you – and thus make your story also their own…Obviously a good combination of showing and telling is needed in any thoughtful exchange. And as we are a narrative animal, we too often substitute a story for hard facts — especially the ones we don’t want to see. A caution to us all: lousy and lazy communication is lousy and lazy communication. One cannot ‘show’ their way out of that.”

Best Advice: It is All About Showing, Not Telling - Christopher M. Schoroeder

It made me think about the ways we often try to simply tell about the Good News we believe in and forget to show it as well. Do we bring others into the discussion of the most precious thing we’ve discovered or are we simply portraying a boring message.

An equal portion of sharing verbally and demonstrating in action must be the proper prescription for us, but don’t forget that there is definitely power in showing [John 13:35].

Perhaps it’s time for us to learn to help others make The Story their own personal stories - ones of transformation. Here’s to an invitation to a life that is far from boring. 

“When hot chocolate isn’t hot anymore…what does it become?”

A question asked by an insightful young boy (he must have been around 7-years-old) to his grandparents. 

“Well…if it isn’t hot anymore, it must be cold chocolate!” exclaimed the child. “Yes, it would be a cold chocolate…or perhaps milk chocolate?” 

The grandparents proceeded to unpackage the idea that this Hot chocolate doesn’t become a Cold chocolate, but rather a lukewarm hot chocolate. 

“Why isn’t it luke-cold?” 

“Lukewarm is just the term to describe something that’s not hot or cold - it’s lukewarm,” replied his grandparents patiently. 

“But why is it Luke-warm? Who’s Luke anyways? No, I think it’s a cold chocolate. I don’t really like my cold chocolate.” 

Reminded today that being lukewarm is a confusing and not-so-good place to be. [Rev 3:16]

Thank God for children who have a way of unveiling truth. 

She believed that her strength
(what little of it she had) 
could only be seen if
she just kept everything in.  

If they saw the wounds and the scars, who would think her as strong? Would they still let her fight in the wars to come? And so the walls came up and the guards were posted.  And signs were plastered reading “Nothing is to escape.”

Every thought shouted a war cry of “I can do this.” But every emotion whispered a fading “don’t go alone.” And though it made sense to open up the floodgates, she couldn’t break free of the chains binding her down to “shut-up-and-move-on.”

Be strong.

She gently reminded herself
of the many journeys
that came before.

But what was forgotten was that strength was never something mustered up from within. Strength was never something that simply existed. And strength was never meant to be built by one person. 

It was time.
to break down the walls
to let others in
to experience strength in numbers.
and to understand
that strength may be
weaknesses with
a big sprinkle of God. 

It was time.
to take off the cape
and perhaps,
what she needed was a better armor anyways. 

Perhaps the problem with pain isn’t that it exist, but rather that we have yet to learn how to properly respond to it.  

Because if pain didn’t exist, then we wouldn’t be warned of incoming danger. 

Perhaps pain is actually a gift from God and not proof that He doesn’t exist. We feel pain - on our skin and in our hearts - because it helps us to understand that we, as people, are limited and mortal. It keeps us humble and desperate. 

And strangely enough, this pain may actually be the key to us understanding the meaning of true unhindered joy. 

This song has been stuck in my head and on my playlist for the last week. Lyrics are awesome. 

Maybe this is my song for the year 2013…or at least this month?

I’m no expert in fishing, but what I do know is that it’s not all about strength or speed. One of the special techniques necessary for proper fishing is to know how to reel in the fish a little, release a little when the string becomes taunt and reel it in a little more. If you simply just keep reeling the fish in and ignore how taunt the rod gets, the fishing rod can easily snap; if you keep loosening the string you may never get your fish. It takes a lot of patience and a lot of knowing when to pull in and when to let go. 

This visit home, I have greatly appreciated my parents for everything they have done, everything they still do and everything they will continue to do. One of the most respectable things is that my parents know exactly how much to let go at exactly the right time. Though they aren’t perfect and missteps are bound to happen, I am grateful that they are willing to let go and somehow still manage to express their care and love through their constant support. They are willing to let us make our own mistakes and yet are always ready to walk us through the different hurdles and bumps along the way.

It’s kinda like fishing.  

I love my parents.

our lives weren’t so put together.

Would we learn more about 
the value of dependence?
the value of “waiting” in the uncomfortable? 
the value of privilege? 
the value of time, money, gifts? 
the value grace? 

The value of Faith? 

I made bread again today. It’s finals week so cooking is the necessary byproduct. 

There’s something about the process of making bread that fascinates me. You mix live yeast into the dough so that it can cause the bread to rise. Under the right warm temperatures you can get your dough to rise at the perfect amount of “wait time.” But then you have to punch in the dough and let the dough rise again afterwards.

You wait. The dough rises. And you punch. 

If you don’t punch in the bread at least twice, you don’t let the gas bubbles out and you don’t get nice, soft, fluffy bread - the desired end product. 

It doesn’t really make sense - let it rise, punch it down, wait; let it rise, punch it down, wait - but that’s the way it works. 

       
*not an original photo, but the same kind of bread i made*

And the thought occurred to me today…isn’t that how life is sometimes? Let it rise, punch it down, wait; let it rise, punch it down, wait. But in the end, we get to the end product - right where God wants us to be. A lesson on patience and processes.