Donald Miller's Blog, page 63

How To Know If You’re Keeping Score In Your Friendships

A little while back, I woke up at 4:07am to bring a couple of friends to the airport. They were headed to Colorado and had booked an early flight to maximize the amount of time they would spend with their family.

*Photo Credit: Andrei Dimofte, Creative Commons

As they got out of the car, they thanked me for the ride as though I had done something extraordinary. Even though I’d went to bed early and gotten plenty of sleep, I could sense they’d felt like my gesture had probably been a burden.

I could sense a feeling of “we owe you.”

I remember wishing they didn’t feel that way. But what I sensed in that interaction wasn’t unfamiliar, by any means.

I love to fly, often to visit family and friends, and every once in awhile I need rides to and from the airport. But whenever one of my friends would go out of their way to do this for me, I would feel the same feeling of “I owe you.”

Sure enough, this feeling didn’t just happen to me in terminals. I would get the same feeling almost any time a friend made a special effort to cater to my needs. I thought about the time my wife and I locked our keys in the car, and a couple of friends brought us lunch while we waited on AAA. Then I thought about the time a friend afforded me a day of golfing because they knew I was paying off debt.

I felt like I owed them.

But when we love our friends, it is natural to serve them.

So as I drove away from my Colorado-bound friends at the airport, hoping they wouldn’t feel like they owed me, I began to think about how I should maybe stop feeling like I owed my friends, too.

I wondered:

What would happen if we sacrificed for our friends, expecting nothing in return?

Friendships aren’t meant for scorecards.

My friendships are at their best when we lose track of the score. Instead, we simply just keep showing up for one another on purpose, without false motives or an expectation of having our cards punched.

To give without expectation is more fulfilling than to give with the hope that we’ll get our backs scratched. And when we learn to receive a friend’s sacrifice with genuine gratefulness rather than indebtedness, we honor the sincerity of it.

I’d throw in my scorecard for that kind of realness in my friendships any day.

What would happen if you and your friends stopped keeping score?

How To Know If You’re Keeping Score In Your Friendships is a post from: Storyline Blog

Waiting For Good Things To Happen Is A Lazy Plan

A few years ago, my friend Steve Taylor heard I was writing about creativity and sent me an e-mail with some advice he’d received.

The advice was simple:

A creator loves what they do.
A creator knows how to do what they do.
A creator does what they do.

You’re probably thinking “duh” right? But when I thought about how this applied to my own life, I found value worth sharing.

A love for your art is important.

Because without it, you won’t pull through.

I fell in love with writing during high school. I wrote an article for the youth group newsletter and received positive feedback and that was it. My love affair with words began. It was my new identity, and that impure motive, perhaps, turned into a genuine appreciation for the written word. I’ve not stopped thinking about how to phrase ideas since.

*Photo Credit: __MaRiNa__, Creative Commons

You must first love what you do. If you want the identity of a rockstar, good luck. If you love music, you may get the identity of a rockstar, but hopefully you won’t care. You and your love for what you do will propel you to make great music and enjoy life.

You will have to work at it, no matter what.

Malcolm Gladwell points out that the average “genius” is no genius at all, but has spent 10,000 hours honing their craft. Steinbeck’s early work has flashes of genius, but he rambles. Nobody is born great. It takes work. Lots and lots of work.

When I first started writing, I wondered if I had something special, if I could be like Steinbeck. I was hoping there was some magical ability within me that would shine out and get discovered. But these are foolish thoughts. The best way to get discovered is to work very hard, very long hours and create something good. People discover what is good.

Know what you want to do and stick to it.

I’ve been offered jobs in video and screenwriting and other stuff that doesn’t have a great deal to do with books. I’ve taken some of these jobs, but I’ve noticed I’m not as good at them as I am at what I do, which is write books. And I have to remember that.

A creator focuses, hoeing the same land for decades and keeping the soil fertile.

He isn’t lazy; he works, every day, moving the plot forward.

In addition, a creator actually makes things happen.

Creative talk and exploration is not the same as the act of creation. A creator can hold in their hands what they’ve made. Little blog entries and practice poems won’t do. A creator makes things.

If you’re a creator, ask yourself: what do I love to do? Am I good at it? And if not, am I practicing and do I love the practice? And lastly, what am I making? Am I writing a book, painting a series of paintings for a gallery opening, pushing songs forward for an album, creating a line of clothes for a fashion show, writing a series of sermons?

Let’s be known for making things happen.

 

Waiting For Good Things To Happen Is A Lazy Plan is a post from: Storyline Blog

Keep The Friends Who Are Willing To Wound You

*Photo Credit: astonishme, Creative Commons

“Honestly? It reads like an IKEA instruction manual.”

My wife Kari said this right after I forced her to listen to 20 minutes of my new “book idea.” I read emphatically, stressing the key words, whispering for dramatic effect—the works.

But it wasn’t working. She shifted around, clearly unimpressed. I thought it was brilliant. She thought otherwise. When I asked what she thought, she shrugged. So I pushed hard to get an answer and was rude in my pushing.

That’s when she dropped the IKEA bomb.

Ouch.

For the record, IKEA is a fine place. But it’s like a labyrinth – once I go in, I feel trapped. To get out, I have to walk fourteen miles through a maze of cheap swag, art-deco furniture and modern rugs with neon colors. After twenty minutes, I panic and run through the employee exits to get out.

Now my writing had been compared to IKEA, the Labyrinth of Doom.

Kari wasn’t being mean, just honest. It wasn’t connecting with her. So instead of forcing her approval, I put it down and went to find my journal. I sat down and read her an entry I wrote about the birth of our twin daughters, communicating a great deal of honesty and fear.

After I read this, Kari didn’t say anything.

But she was moved.

She told me to email it to my agent, Don Jacobson. Months later, the words became the book, Heroic Path: In Search of the Masculine Heart. The book never would have happened if Kari flattered me or kept quiet.

Proverbs 27:6 says, “Wounds from a friend are better than kisses from an enemy.”

To hear my writing was like an IKEA product stung a little. But Kari was right.

It hurt, but it helped move me in the right direction.

These wounds – honest, true wounds – are helpful if we let them be. But if we get defensive or don’t listen, we miss the moment.

None of us like to be rejected or compared to the Labyrinth of Doom. But that’s often exactly what we need, lest we carry a sense of entitlement and live under an illusion of grandeur.

Wounds from a friend are valuable gems.

They are more loving than flattery or feigned affirmation. These wounds deserve our full attention. And respect.

I’m grateful for these wounds.

• • •From Storyline:

Our dear friend John Sowers released a new book called The Heroic Path: In Search of the Masculine Heart. If you enjoy his writing on this blog, we recommend you pick up a copy today.

Keep The Friends Who Are Willing To Wound You is a post from: Storyline Blog

How Wealth May Cost You More Than It’s Worth

Recently, I was driving through Seattle with a good friend in ministry. We were talking about Jesus, money, and possessions — a subject very dear to my heart.

I told him I had been challenged by the Parable of the Sower. In the story, Jesus taught about the four types of foundations in which we can receive the seed of God’s word.

*Photo Credit: Dan Foy, Creative Commons

“What I find so challenging in this parable,” I said to my friend, “is Jesus’s explanation of the third seed being choked by thorns and weeds. Do you know what He said keeps the seed from full maturity? He says it is wealth, pleasure and worry — the very things America is most known for.”

My friend responded defensively.

“Don’t you mean ‘the love of money keeps us from maturity?’ Isn’t that what Jesus said choked out the fruit?”

I stood speechless for a moment searching my brain for the answer. At first, I was dumbfounded, “Oh yeah, the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. That makes more sense.”

But the words wealth, pleasure and worry still stood out in my memory to me for a reason.

Fortunately, the Bible app on my smartphone was not far from reach. Sure enough, right there in red pixels on my screen, Jesus’s exact words could be double-checked.

The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. (Luke 8:14)

Yes, Jesus spoke out against the love of wealth. But in this story, He also warns us about the danger of its mere existence in our lives.

This is, of course, an unpopular view in our world.

The prevailing view in society (and subsequently churches) is that there is nothing wrong with money. That it should be pursued. That God blesses us with material possessions for our enjoyment. That wealth is always good because it provides more opportunity to give to God’s kingdom.

In America, if you ask a roomful of people who wants to be rich, almost every hand gets raised.

In a society built on pursuing wealth and personal property, Jesus’s words are countercultural.

They stand contrary to everything we have been told since the day we were born.

But Jesus’s words are always life-giving.

Jesus recognized the great danger in wealth. It often becomes an avenue for isolation, pride, and self-sufficiency. It fuels dissatisfaction and discontent. It divides our loyalties. All the while, wealth blinds us to its harmful effects. Jesus calls us to count its true cost.

He reminds us there are more important things to pursue with our lives.

We should not misconstrue His teaching.

He still tells us to work hard, refine our skills, and study our craft. Any student of the New Testament will recognize its call to supply for our families by seeking honest compensation. And there are numerous examples of wealthy Christ-followers in the Bible.

But in a society that is chiefly motivated by its desire for money, routinely assuming its goodness, we would be wise to pay careful attention to Jesus’s warnings.

So when the question is asked, “Who in this room would like to be rich?” we may raise our hand a little bit slower next time. There are greater things at stake.

How Wealth May Cost You More Than It’s Worth is a post from: Storyline Blog

My Best Advice On Writing Isn’t From A Book

I have a shelf at home devoted to books about writing. I might even say I have two shelves devoted to those books now. I’ve read most of them, and some are better than others. But the best writing advice I’ve ever received didn’t come from a book. It actually occurred to me one morning when I was lying in bed, not wanting to get up and do my job. Maybe it came from heaven, I don’t know.

But the advice was this:

Love your reader.

It sounds simple, but it isn’t so easy, actually.

Writing is something most of us do alone. We might collaborate on a screenplay or something, but with a book or a blog, we are alone in front of our computers, tapping out our thoughts.

*Photo Credit: Death To Stock Photo, Creative Commons

It’s not like the reader is sitting behind us, looking over our shoulder and making comments. We’re pretty disconnected from whomever it might be who will ultimately be benefited by our work. For this reason, it’s hard to remember that, well, people will actually be benefited by our work.

To add to this, most writers don’t think their work really matters.

I’ve met writers who have sold thousands of books and still don’t think anybody’s life has been changed by their efforts. There’s an enemy whispering in their ear, I think.

I wrote four books and sold millions before I realized I was helping anybody. (tweet this)

Sure I knew people were reading my stuff, but I didn’t realize they were making better decisions because I’d taken the time to sit down and share my heart with them.

But these days, that’s about all that’s keeping me going.

Just the thought that somebody out there might not leave their spouse, or quit on that book they’re writing, or will finally change their career or find God. In all those books about writing filled with tips and tricks, I think loving the reader is the best motivator I’ve ever found. And it keeps the quality up, too. We do tend to put our best foot forward when we care about somebody.

So the next time you sit down to write a blog, love your reader. I guarantee somebody is going to be encouraged.

My Best Advice On Writing Isn’t From A Book is a post from: Storyline Blog

Extraordinary Moments Don’t Happen Without Work

Imagine searching for a dangerous rapist in a mega city – without a photograph.

When IJM Guatemala investigators finished gently sifting through the ugly memories of yet another traumatized little girl in Guatemala City, they were left with only one small detail to go on: a description of the suspect’s teeth.

In this city, fewer than 5% of people who commit sexual assaults will see any jail time; and in this case, the odds appeared even lower.

A description of a guy’s teeth was all we had.

But there’s something to be said about persevering when there’s statistically no chance of success. In fact, where we work, it’s the only way we see justice get done.

This particular suspect was rumored to work at a gas station. The plan was to check every gas station in Guatemala City, and then move to gas stations in nearby towns.

*Photo Credit: David Amsler, Creative Commons

Methodically, vigilantly, relentlessly, our investigators searched for the suspect.

And, after four weeks, they had a breakthrough.

At yet another gas station, enduring what felt like another dead end, the gas station security guard came out to tell them to move their vehicle – and they noticed his teeth.

After weeks of seemingly hopeless searching, the IJM Guatemala team realized they had found their guy.  And with more, careful, tedious work, this child rapist was properly arrested, convicted and taken off the streets

Everyone celebrated the dramatic end – the chance encounter that led to the positive identification of the suspect. The quick action of the police. The rush and flurry. The danger and suspense.

That’s the powerful, inspiring part of the story.

These are the types of moments that inspire folks to participate in God’s work of justice.  We all want to be where the action is.

But the reality is that for every dramatic capture and for every high-profile win, there are untold days of invisible faithfulness and failure – of persevering, when the end of the story is unknown.

Persevering when it’s hard. Persevering when it’s boring.

For every victory in the courtroom, there are days of hearings that are postponed, once, twice, fifteen times. For every suspect arrested, there are days of false leads and dead ends. There is a gas station to check out with just a written description of a suspect in hand. And another. And another. And another.

For every heart-racing moment, there are hundreds of hours of patience-stretching tedium.

Being a part of God’s movement in our work, our homes and out in the world is a great privilege. And sometimes, we get to witness extraordinary moments. But between those glimpses of the miraculous is a mundane reality of daily faithfulness in the seemingly small details.

It’s in the trenches of the small stuff that miracles are born. (tweet this)

Extraordinary Moments Don’t Happen Without Work is a post from: Storyline Blog

What Profanity Is Costing You As A Communicator

Just last week I was scheduled to give a keynote presentation to a group of officers from a multi-billion dollar corporation. My job was to explain how story worked in screenplays and then explain how major corporations were using Hollywood plot structures in their marketing campaigns.

This is a talk I’ve given more than few times and it always goes well. But one part of the talk was bugging me.

You see, in order to give the keynote I break down the movie Moneyball, showing 7 critical scenes in which specific movement happens in the plot. All that’s fine, but what was bugging me was one of the scenes had profanity in it.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother me. We all hear profanity at the movies and on television all the time. But in a room full of executives? Would there be consequences? Would anybody be offended?

*Photo Credit: ilyinov, Creative Commons

Luckily, I happened to be having lunch in the hotel restaurant when I noticed one of the executives sitting across the room, reading the paper. I stopped over and sat down and we caught up on life, then I asked him what he thought about showing that scene.

He was grateful I asked. Even though he thought nobody would be truly offended, he wondered whether there was any way to cut that word out. I told him I could find out and do everything I could and he felt that would be best. As we talked, though, we uncovered the real reason I shouldn’t take the chance. And here’s what it was:

Showing the scene risked making me, the presenter, look immature and unprofessional.

It turns out it wasn’t the offensiveness of the word that would have gotten me into trouble, it would have been the fact I was willing to play fast and loose with proper business etiquette, which would have made me look bad.

I’ve plenty of friends who use profanity or off-color jokes in their writing and they do so because they believe it will set them apart. I understand the temptation. But the reality is it has a downside. In the long run, people are looking for somebody they can trust. Getting a laugh or a gasp may make us feel powerful or influential, but that roller coaster high is most often followed by a dip.

I ended up cutting the profanity out of the clip and I assure you nobody missed it.

And nobody was distracted from the point I was trying to make either, a point that ended up hitting a home run with the group. Lesson learned.

Always choose long-term professionalism over short-term attention. (tweet this)

What Profanity Is Costing You As A Communicator is a post from: Storyline Blog

Who’s Making Your Mind Up For You?

I’ve always been drawn to really strong leaders. Even in the midst of the most violent criticism against Mark Driscoll, I’ve defended him, arguing that for some people, his way of preaching and teaching is quite effective—especially since, for me, it was (by “effective” I mean it altered my behavior).

I’ve joked that I wouldn’t be a Christian if it weren’t for a “strong leader” like Mark.

And yet, more recently, I’ve started to wonder: if being a Christian looks like Mark Driscoll, do I even want to be one?

To be fair, I don’t know Mark Driscoll personally. But I’ve listened to dozens (if not hundreds) of hours of his preaching. And it’s only in the last year or so of my life I’ve started to wonder why I’m drawn to what, at it’s best, could be called assertiveness and confidence, and at its worst, looks to me like shame and manipulation.

*Photo Credit: jakeliefer, Creative Commons

It’s only recently I’ve started to question whether it’s healthy to be so compelled by someone who uses volume and force to get a point across.

But I’ve mostly been asking myself why, for most of my life, I’ve felt an almost magnetic pull toward controlling and manipulative people.

A few weeks ago my husband and I watched a documentary about Lance Armstrong.

I haven’t followed Lance closely throughout his career, but it was free on Netflix and we were bored. I found myself sucked in by Lance’s character. By “character” I don’t mean things like the strength, integrity, honesty; I mean like a character from a movie. I could hardly believe it was real. He was almost like some mythical legend to me.

Of course, as the documentary goes on, it becomes more and more clear this man is not trustworthy or altruistic in any sense of the word. In fact, he’s downright dishonest, controlling and mean.

But, strangely, I found myself mesmerized by the “strength” I perceived him to have.

I found myself feeling sorry for him, at least a little. Empathetic. Intrigued. But not angry or shocked or taken aback, like everyone else was, like I probably should have been.

And here was my question: why?

Leaders like this make me feel strong, in a way.

Not in the long run, necessarily. In the long run they make me feel tiny and weak. But in the short run they make me feel like anything is possible, like we can conquer the world together, like we are special and important and loved and elevated above those around us.

Eventually, of course, this position becomes lonely. It’s isolating and awful to be elevated above the people around you.

But I think before it starts to feel lonely, it feels kind of powerful and good.

It’s sucks to admit that, but it’s true. I think I feel strangely protected by leaders who are “in control” (or at least give the illusion of being in control—nobody is really in control). I feel like I’m on the winning team, like no matter what happens, this person is going to defend and protect me and that we’re always going to come out on top. Over time, this illusion fades, but in the beginning, I really think this is how they get so many people to follow them.

It’s really my weakness that is attracted to manipulation and control.

I think that’s what I’m starting to see. But here’s the problem:

When weakness and strength are drawn to one another, the relationship is bound to collapse in on itself. (tweet this)

At first, the “weak” person (or the person who plays weakness) can rely on the “strong” person (or the person who projects strength) to do everything for them. But when a relationship is born out of this place—one person as the victim and the other as the hero—it relies on this dynamic to stay alive.

If the dynamic is ever threatened (if the strong person feels weak, or the weak person feels strong) the relationship will cave in on itself.

It’s inevitable.

So although these relationships have started out, for me, feeling all wonderful and safe and loving, they usually end up feeling the opposite. I usually end up feeling tiny and insignificant, weak and invisible. I wind up sacrificing my voice—my thoughts, feelings and ideas—for the thoughts, feelings and ideas of the other.

After awhile, the whole thing just feels dysfunctional and unfair.

Here’s the thing. I don’t think the solution is to bring down manipulative leaders. In fact, if I’ve learned anything from following people like this, it’s that they’re virtually impossible to bring down. They’ll win. Every time. You can’t start a fight with these leaders. You will lose.

The solution is to stop following them.

Seriously. Unfollow them on Twitter. Stop taking their advice. Stop listening to what they have to say. Not in an angry or mean or resentful way, just in a way that says, “I’m actually strong all on my own. I don’t need you to parent me. I’m my own person.”

“You don’t have a corner on the market of what it means to be a Christian or a parent or a child or a wife or a husband. I will not treat you like a God anymore.”

There’s nothing more deflating to a manipulative leader than realizing their manipulation isn’t working. They might scream. They might fight. They might throw a temper tantrum. But when that happens, we can all see them for who they are, and without judgement, move on with our lives. It’s not our job to fix them or change them, anymore than it is their job to fix or change us.

I’m finding freedom in this new way of thinking about manipulative leaders, and as a result, I’m gaining my voice back.

Who’s Making Your Mind Up For You? is a post from: Storyline Blog

Is Your Life Boring All Your Friends?

Last week, looking out the back window of our house, I saw our dog Hobbs standing over the carcass of a possum. He was sniffing it cautiously and had a “what do I do now?” look about him. Finally, he walked away, disappointed with the end of his chase.

*Photo Credit: Joi Ito, Creative Commons

As he was leaving, I saw one eye of the possum open. Then the other. Slowly, it got up and started to sneak away. Hobbs noticed, and the chase resumed. As soon as Hobbs caught up with his prey, the possum feigned a heart attack again. Hobbs sniffed and left. You could almost hear him say, “This is no fun.”

I’d always heard of “playing possum,” but had never seen it in real life.

Play dead and they’ll leave you alone.

It was an amazing strategy, working perfectly for the possum. It works for people, too.

It reminded me of this time I was facilitating a men’s group in which each guy shared their story. One week, a guy was telling his story and I was bored. Feeling guilty, I looked around only to notice other guys were showing signs of boredom, too – looking down or fidgeting restlessly. One guy even yawned.

I tuned back in and realized what was going wrong. This guy was telling his story in black and white. There was no color to it. He was a detached reporter, and thus we detached. He told us his father was a drunk, but didn’t tell about the impact of a drunken father on a little boy.

Midway through his story, I asked him to pause for a moment.

Turning to the men, I asked, “On a scale of 1-10, ten being extremely engaged and one being almost asleep – how would you rate his telling of his story?”

Everyone got awkwardly quiet, looking down at the floor. The guy who was telling his story seemed understandably miffed. When no one spoke, I went first, “I’d give it a three,” I said. “Anyone else?”

Finally some of the guys began to speak. “4,” said one guy. “2,” said another. “I’d rate it a 3,” said the man to his right. 4 was the highest number.

Then I told them this:

There’s no such thing as a boring person or a boring story. (tweet this)

The only way that happens is if a person makes themselves boring. And the result is no one engages with them. People leave them alone.

He was playing possum, and we were “walking away” as if we believed his story was dead.

So I turned to the guy and said, “The story you told us was in black and white, devoid of scenes and emotion. Come back next week, and tell it in color. Bring us your real story.”

The following week he returned and told his story again.

This time, he was a character in the story, not a reporter.

Every man wept.

Every man was engaged.

Every man connected with him in a way no one ever had.

The storyteller joined us in our tears. It was holy moment, and I learned a profound lesson that day.

Often, when we walk away from people, while they may be unaware of it, they are acting in some way to repel us. It may be subtle (boredom) or it may be overt (meanness). Sadly, it usually works.

All of us play possum from time to time.

We have unique strategies to get people to leave us alone. Some people avoid connection by their humor. Others revert to anger and aggressiveness. Some simply appear uninteresting.

My challenge to you today is this: Unless someone is obviously dangerous, don’t pull away from them, even if they try to make you. Stay around them long enough and they’ll open one of their eyes. When they do, pursue their real story.

It’s in there. I promise.

Is Your Life Boring All Your Friends? is a post from: Storyline Blog

Are Leaders Making You Afraid So They Can Make Money?

A friend recently stopped by the house for dinner and we had the most fascinating conversation.

As we talked, he told me he’d recently been attacked on the air by Glenn Beck. Fascinatingly, he was the second friend I’d had over for dinner who’d recently been attacked by Glenn Beck. But both of them had the same story.

As he pulled up the YouTube video, I couldn’t help but wonder whether Glenn Beck even knew what either of my friends were about. Beck demonized my friend without the slightest understanding of what he represented or stood for, which looked nothing like what Beck was railing against.

*Photo Credit: www.audio-luci-store.it, Creative Commons

It made me realize as media becomes more and more sensationalized we need a refresher in defining a term we should have learned our first year in college: A straw-man argument.

A straw-man argument happens when we put words in the mouth of somebody else and then refute them whether they actually said those words or not.

Every hero needs a villain, but false heroes create straw men in order to look heroic in their supposed fight against an easy enemy. I say easy enemy because, well, what could be more easy than setting up an enemy who doesn’t exist and whose points you can easily refute?

I’ve been the “victim” of this myself.

After I wrote a blog about why I don’t often attend church, countless people wrote in response only to misquote my initial argument in such a way they could refute the points. The experience was exhausting. But here’s the deal. Most of the supposed enemies we are retaliating against in our conservative and liberal movements don’t actually exist.

The truth is 99% of people are balanced in their thinking and aren’t trying to ruin the world for destruction’s sake.

Glenn Beck, James Carville and the like make millions by frightening old people into thinking somebody is out to get them. But don’t fall for it. All they’re doing is taking years off your life so they can drive a Maserati.

What if there was, somewhere in the middle, a balanced group of American thinkers who actually had the intellectual capacity to notice manipulation when it happened? What if there was a tribe that didn’t identify with either the left or right but rather pursued truth whether it benefited anybody’s agenda or not?

Isn’t this what Jesus did?

What was His agenda other than telling the truth? It seems to me Jesus was a truth teller and Satan was a liar. Interestingly, Satan was a liar who quoted scripture. So, given the scriptural precedent that liars also quote scripture, shouldn’t the polar charges of good and evil shift from conservative and liberal to the more accurate binary categories of truth tellers and manipulators?

What if we lumped liberal and conservative manipulators into the same group and liberal and conservative truth tellers into another group? What if Mark Driscoll, James Carville, Glenn Beck and the like could be labeled as what they are: Deceptive leaders with an agenda to gain personal power? And what if we finally woke up from our naivete and realized some people use Jesus, the Bible and all things religious to manipulate the masses?

I’m convinced Satan is less interested in getting you to look at porn than he is at confusing you about what Jesus is trying to do on earth. And what Jesus is trying to do on earth is spread the truth.

And the truth doesn’t have an agenda. It is the agenda. (tweet this)

So what would the world look like if the rest of us could have a civil conversation in which true and noble ideas were actually discussed in peace, civility and respect?

Some would call it a pipe dream. I’d call it progress.

Are Leaders Making You Afraid So They Can Make Money? is a post from: Storyline Blog