For starters, watch this speech by Jimmy Johnson, a three-time Super Bowl winning football coach.

"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."
-Galatians 6:9

I have a distinct memory of being roughly nine-ish years old, and playing with a folding knife in the garage which I had found among my dad's tools. After playing with it for a while I tried to close the blade, only to realize that it was a lock-blade, a concept which my nine year old brain and fingers had yet to be able to fully comprehend. After several minutes of trying in vain to close it, I finally realized that I was not going to be able to hide the fact that I'd defied instructions and played with Dad's tools without permission.

Rather than wait around for my dad to make the inevitable discovery, I decided to take matters into my own hands, and throw myself upon the mercy of the court. I set my jaw, marched from the garage into the living room, and stood tall in front of my parents as they sat watching tv on the couch. "What's going on, Johnny?" they asked, obviously seeing the look of resolute determination on my face as I stared into the face of certain death. "I played with Dad's knife in the garage," I declared, "and now I can't close it."

Dad promptly got up, went into the garage to investigate, and then returned moments later, his adult hands deftly solving the problem that my tiny fingers could not. He then led me by the hand to the master bedroom, a place synonymous with pain and retribution, and gave me a very measured and robust swat on the butt with a wooden paddle. Even though it stung, I was impressed by the fact that it had been a single swat, instead of the customary two or three which such a brazen act of defiance might usually have merited. I learned that day that if you make a mistake, it's much better for your conscience (and for your backside) if you own up to it rather than trying to cover it up.

There was a brief and wonderful period in my life when I was part of the Navy Run Team while I was attending the Defense Language Institute back in 2008 and 2009. Our goal was to train for a quarterly race which was held by the school, where all four branches of the military would field their best team of eight runners to race against each other in a winner-take-all two mile race. It was by far the best physical shape I’ve ever been in in my life. It all started because I was attending a bible study along with the team captain, and over the course of our getting to know each other, he continually pressured me to come out and practice with the team. I politely rebuffed his initial invitation, telling him simply, “I’ll never be in good enough shape to compete with you guys.” He laughed and said, “the only way to get faster is to run more, dude.”

My first few practices were something of a disaster. Not only could I not complete the seemingly-easy drills which they took for granted, but I would go home every night in agonizing pain, wondering how in the world I could ever have been so foolish as to think myself able to keep up with guys who were running six-minute miles. Nevertheless, I kept showing up. As I continued coming to practice each afternoon and slaying myself with sprint drills, the faster guys started to come alongside me with words of encouragement. Eventually, my times got gradually quicker. I went from 1:30 on my quarter mile laps to 1:25, then eventually down to 1:20, and so on. At my peak, I was running about a seven-minute mile.

It really bothers me that “manhood” in its traditional sense is becoming a dying way of life. I’m well aware that I’m not alone in this lament for the lost art of manliness and the desire to recapture it, but nevertheless I believe it’s something that we as a culture are starting to value less and less, and some even attack it as a “reinforcement of antiquated gender roles.”

I recently witnessed an event which, although it was minor, prompted me to want to remind the men out there it’s time to stop acting like boys, and equally importantly, it’s time to stop tolerating those around us who do.

I recently had an excellent conversation with someone who posed the question to me, “Does God want me to be happy?” I had to think very carefully about my answer, and the more I pondered this question, the more I realized I had just been given my latest piece to write about. (Thank you, smart person!)

My first answer was naturally yes. There are numerous verses which support the fact that God loves you and wants good things for you (Psalm 84:11, James 1:17, Psalm 37:4, Matthew 7:11). Just this cursory sweep of scriptures tells me that God does indeed delight in seeing you happy. Nevertheless, I think we very often fall into the trap of thinking that “being happy” and “getting what I want” are exactly the same thing, when in fact they aren’t. We all want things which are very often contrary to our best interests. Like a loving parent who refuses to feed their child a steady diet of ice cream and candy, our heavenly Father is oftentimes forced to deny us the things we so earnestly desire, not because he’s vindictive or unhappy with our performance, but simply because he knows that’s not what’s actually best for you. Sometimes wanting what’s best for your child means saying “no” quite a bit.

Before we begin, please watch this video. (It’s about 10 minutes long)

If you’ve ever read Psalm 139, then you’re familiar with the phrase “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” In one of my previous posts, I concluded by saying that one day in life you will come upon your ultimate test, whatever that may be. I believe that God has given every single one of us a moment in history for us to shine. Our talents and abilities were given to us by God with the intention that we should use them to glorify Him. When you start working in the area of your giftedness, you may discover that you are ten times better than the people around you who work just as hard to do the same job. This is not a coincidence; it is because God delights in you as his child, and he has empowered you to do more through him than you ever could have on your own.

Originally hosted by my brother on his blog (before it went off the interwebs), these two posts were my first public attempt at sharing my personal life experiences.