Do you take chances? Are you afraid of risk? I’ve always believed that risk is necessary for us to grow and improve and build wealth. But when you take a chance doing something, especially something risky, you have to have an exit strategy. The higher the risk, the more important being able to “exit” becomes. You need to be able to undo the thing that you did and stay in control of your loses in the process. You have to be able to exit (control your losses) without depending upon something happening outside of your control.
This is not only practical, but I believe it’s Biblical.
James 4:13, 14 says, “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (NIV)
A few years ago, I had a friend who came to me for advice about a home renovation project. This friend, who can remodel just about anything, wanted to get into “house flipping”, buying a house that was run down, fixing it up, and then selling it for a healthy profit. This couple had a great income and a solid financial picture so I agreed that it was a good idea. My only caution was that they start small so they could fit the monthly expenses in their budget (i.e., cash flow it) and not be at risk financially while they were trying to sell the house.
A few weeks after our discussion, they purchased a home that was hundreds of thousands of dollars. The mortgage payment and cost of improvement was so big that they could only afford to make the payment for five or six months. Their argument was that the real estate market was so “hot” and this home was in such an ideal location that they were sure they’d be able to get it sold.
A year later, the house was still unsold and their finances were in shambles. They took a risk bigger then they could afford. The future didn’t go they way they predicted and they were left with a mess.
They presumed on the future and had a poor exit strategy.
Unfortunately, I’ve seen many of these kinds of decisions. A couple buys a second home before selling their first believing that it was the right thing to do. The market’s hot right? But the first home doesn’t sell, their savings runs out, and they start piling up debt trying to make two house payements.
They presumed on the future and had a poor exit strategy.
Or how about the couple that buys the monster home as an investment using those popular interest-only ARM mortgage loans. A few years later when they’re ready to cash out, the home won’t sell. The ARM adjusts up, they can’t afford the mortgage payment, and then find themselves facing foreclosure.
They presumed on the future and had a poor exit strategy.
I don't want to sound judgemental with all this. I've made many mistakes over the years. But this is one of my financial “no matter what’s.” I will never take a risk financially that I can’t afford to cash flow month-to-month. I will never put myself in a position of depending on something happening in the future in order to keep my finances from getting messed up. No "deal" is worth the price I would pay if things went bad.
It’s just what I believe.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Running The Race
A few days ago I got to spend some time with my Grandparents. They’re in their 80’s and living in a retirement community here in Charlotte. Every so often (not as much as I should) my kids and I go have lunch with them after church. Sometimes I go alone and have breakfast.
They’ve lived an interesting life. Both were born, grew up, and raised a family in Memphis, TN. My Grandmother lost her father at 14, lived in poverty through the depression, and barely survived her first marriage to a man I know only as ‘John.’ He was a drunk and physically abusive. It was said that he came back from WWII a different person, scarred by the horrors he witnessed. I have a newspaper clipping from the early 50’s that my Grandmother kept. He was arrested for raping a teenager. The only good thing that came from that marriage was my mom and uncle.
My Grandfather, the man who in my heart is my real grandfather, served in the Pacific in WWII. He came home from the war and worked in the family hardware business, a store called Church Hardware (the family name.) He grew up friends with my Grandmother. After her divorce from John, when my mom was eight and my uncle three, he married her and has remained her protector for over 50 years. He was an Eagle Scout and scoutmaster for years and years at the same troop where his father served.
I have many memories from my times with them. I would fish and swim their small lake in Mississippi, just south of Memphis. I can still feel myself flying over the water on the swing they had on the big oak tree. The bright summer sunlight reflects off the lake as I’m soaring high into the sky. And then I’m falling... floating… into the cool, quiet water.
I can picture their house set back in the woods. I can close my eyes and can walk through each room. I remember all the Christmas’s, the 12 hour trips in the car from Charlotte to Memphis, the decorations, and the smells. All the family from around town would gather for dinner and presents. I remember waking up each year at 2 a.m. on Christmas Eve, sneaking up from my room in the basement, and quietly looking at all the presents set out in their living room.
I can still smell the unique smells of the family hardware store. I’m forever grateful for the lessons I learned the summer after my 16th birthday when I got to work there for a few months. I was taught a simple philosophy from a simpler time. Help the customer find the right nail today and he’ll come buy a new lawnmower tomorrow.
Help someone with the small things and they’ll always remember you.
My Grandparents are also a foundation of my faith. They fought the difficult fights of life with God and Christ as the center of their lives. I witnessed a couple who prayed together daily and were active in their church. They worked hard and sacrificed and served. They're a lesson of how people can change. They grew up in a time when people were taught to segregate, but now are accepting of all people and all races. They grew up in a church with hymns and coat and ties, but love the stories of our radical church and lives changed by the power of the Gospel.
Today, even with time and age erasing memories and capabilities, both are just as committed to each other, to their faith, to their family, and to their friends.
---
A month and a half ago I turned forty. For years, I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. (It’s just a number right?) I was surprised by the way it hit me. One day, I woke up, looked in the mirror, and the guy staring back at me had lived half his life. It’s scary and exciting all in the same breath.
Now I reflect on my future. I think about couples like my Grandparents. I desperately want to finish life strong. I desperately want this next 40 years to have purpose and meaning. I find myself wondering if I have what it takes to be the husband, father, and grandfather that my wife, children, and future grandchildren deserve. I find myself on my knees more... with prayers that are gut wrenching.
These wonderful people I call Grandmother and Granddaddy Church don’t have many years left on this earth. Grandmother’s memory is slipping. A woman who was always so strong now seems fragile to the touch. Granddaddy is fighting diabetes. Time will eventually take its toll.
The last of Marybeth's and my Grandparents will soon leave this world for the glory of the next. A generation of wonderful people will be gone, but their memories will burn in my heart for the rest of my life. Their lives will be a light of hope when hope is needed most.
They’ve lived an interesting life. Both were born, grew up, and raised a family in Memphis, TN. My Grandmother lost her father at 14, lived in poverty through the depression, and barely survived her first marriage to a man I know only as ‘John.’ He was a drunk and physically abusive. It was said that he came back from WWII a different person, scarred by the horrors he witnessed. I have a newspaper clipping from the early 50’s that my Grandmother kept. He was arrested for raping a teenager. The only good thing that came from that marriage was my mom and uncle.
My Grandfather, the man who in my heart is my real grandfather, served in the Pacific in WWII. He came home from the war and worked in the family hardware business, a store called Church Hardware (the family name.) He grew up friends with my Grandmother. After her divorce from John, when my mom was eight and my uncle three, he married her and has remained her protector for over 50 years. He was an Eagle Scout and scoutmaster for years and years at the same troop where his father served.
I have many memories from my times with them. I would fish and swim their small lake in Mississippi, just south of Memphis. I can still feel myself flying over the water on the swing they had on the big oak tree. The bright summer sunlight reflects off the lake as I’m soaring high into the sky. And then I’m falling... floating… into the cool, quiet water.
I can picture their house set back in the woods. I can close my eyes and can walk through each room. I remember all the Christmas’s, the 12 hour trips in the car from Charlotte to Memphis, the decorations, and the smells. All the family from around town would gather for dinner and presents. I remember waking up each year at 2 a.m. on Christmas Eve, sneaking up from my room in the basement, and quietly looking at all the presents set out in their living room.
I can still smell the unique smells of the family hardware store. I’m forever grateful for the lessons I learned the summer after my 16th birthday when I got to work there for a few months. I was taught a simple philosophy from a simpler time. Help the customer find the right nail today and he’ll come buy a new lawnmower tomorrow.
Help someone with the small things and they’ll always remember you.
My Grandparents are also a foundation of my faith. They fought the difficult fights of life with God and Christ as the center of their lives. I witnessed a couple who prayed together daily and were active in their church. They worked hard and sacrificed and served. They're a lesson of how people can change. They grew up in a time when people were taught to segregate, but now are accepting of all people and all races. They grew up in a church with hymns and coat and ties, but love the stories of our radical church and lives changed by the power of the Gospel.
Today, even with time and age erasing memories and capabilities, both are just as committed to each other, to their faith, to their family, and to their friends.
---
A month and a half ago I turned forty. For years, I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. (It’s just a number right?) I was surprised by the way it hit me. One day, I woke up, looked in the mirror, and the guy staring back at me had lived half his life. It’s scary and exciting all in the same breath.
Now I reflect on my future. I think about couples like my Grandparents. I desperately want to finish life strong. I desperately want this next 40 years to have purpose and meaning. I find myself wondering if I have what it takes to be the husband, father, and grandfather that my wife, children, and future grandchildren deserve. I find myself on my knees more... with prayers that are gut wrenching.
These wonderful people I call Grandmother and Granddaddy Church don’t have many years left on this earth. Grandmother’s memory is slipping. A woman who was always so strong now seems fragile to the touch. Granddaddy is fighting diabetes. Time will eventually take its toll.
The last of Marybeth's and my Grandparents will soon leave this world for the glory of the next. A generation of wonderful people will be gone, but their memories will burn in my heart for the rest of my life. Their lives will be a light of hope when hope is needed most.
Monday, January 21, 2008
A "Marlboro Man" Christian
Yesterday at church we had a guest speaker who’s main point was that we worship a God who loves to touch and embrace His children. He contrasted the God of smoke and fire in the Old Testament to Jesus constantly reaching out to touch and heal to express his love. Jesus touched lepers and washed feet with an intimate, merciful tenderness.
Our guest pastor closed stating that we, as the living body of Christ, should share this kind of intimacy with other Christians. Not only should we give it, but we should be honest about our struggles with others in order to receive God's love and compassion through other believers.
Unfortunately, I react to that kind of intimacy more like Peter then I care to admit. Jesus kneels before me to wash my feet and I pull away. I guard my heart with emotional barriers that keep my feelings hidden from God and those who share my life. I grew up swallowing the lie that a man should live this life alone, providing for himself in every way, physically and emotionally. To ask for help is to admit weakness, and a “man” is supposed to be strong.
I know differently now. I’ve felt the silent terrors that come from drowning in debt with no one to turn to. I’ve cried inside when personal struggles were destroying my marriage. I’ve felt the hopelessness of trying to carry my burdens and my sins all alone. But my Heavenly Father, who loves me more then I could ever understand, used men who became good friends, men I call brothers, to walk with me and help me and comfort me.
Our relationships with other people allow us to discover and rekindle the flame of hope.
I’ve been struggling with feeling “disconnected” for a long time, and yesterday, I realized why. As the service closed, I was aware of how far I’ve drifted away from those friendships.
I immediately blame myself, but the truth is, connecting with men who are friends is hard. I don’t know if other fathers feel this way, but with working long hours, traveling for work more then ever, trying to maintain a healthy marriage, and raising kids, the days just get away from me. Weeks go by and it seems like I've become even more isolated.
It was a great sermon, helping me see some things about my life more clearly. But right now I’m feeling alone and a bit discouraged.
Our guest pastor closed stating that we, as the living body of Christ, should share this kind of intimacy with other Christians. Not only should we give it, but we should be honest about our struggles with others in order to receive God's love and compassion through other believers.
Unfortunately, I react to that kind of intimacy more like Peter then I care to admit. Jesus kneels before me to wash my feet and I pull away. I guard my heart with emotional barriers that keep my feelings hidden from God and those who share my life. I grew up swallowing the lie that a man should live this life alone, providing for himself in every way, physically and emotionally. To ask for help is to admit weakness, and a “man” is supposed to be strong.
I know differently now. I’ve felt the silent terrors that come from drowning in debt with no one to turn to. I’ve cried inside when personal struggles were destroying my marriage. I’ve felt the hopelessness of trying to carry my burdens and my sins all alone. But my Heavenly Father, who loves me more then I could ever understand, used men who became good friends, men I call brothers, to walk with me and help me and comfort me.
Our relationships with other people allow us to discover and rekindle the flame of hope.
I’ve been struggling with feeling “disconnected” for a long time, and yesterday, I realized why. As the service closed, I was aware of how far I’ve drifted away from those friendships.
I immediately blame myself, but the truth is, connecting with men who are friends is hard. I don’t know if other fathers feel this way, but with working long hours, traveling for work more then ever, trying to maintain a healthy marriage, and raising kids, the days just get away from me. Weeks go by and it seems like I've become even more isolated.
It was a great sermon, helping me see some things about my life more clearly. But right now I’m feeling alone and a bit discouraged.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
A Bit of Transparency
Ok. Here's me being transparent. Read on at your own risk.
I struggle a lot with the prosperity gospel. I don't want this to sound personal towards any particular person, but when I hear a Christian say that God wants us to have our best life today or to live comfortable and happy, I cringe. Maybe I'm an exception, but to me, life isn't meant to be easy and care-free. I constantly find myself stretched by issues with money, family, work, and many, many other things that can make life frustrating and difficult.
It's not always like this. There are good days as well as bad. But life always presents it's challenges.
What I do strongly believe is that I have the ability to choose how I'm going to react when things are hard. And being a Christian gives me the kind of hope that helps me have a positive and encouraged outlook.
The last few days are a good example. Two days ago, Marybeth's car had to go in the shop. The repair bills have crept up to $600. The car is drivable now, but there are still things that need to be fixed that will have to wait. And in the middle of all of this, my car's check engine light came on and I noticed that I'm five months (yes, five!) past due on an inspection. For those of you not in NC, you can't pass an inspection here until you have the check engine light cleared.
Who knows what a mechanic will find on my car, but whatever it is, here comes "life" full steam ahead!
And by the way, all this happened within hours of me paying a contractor one half of a $4,000 bill to redo our master bath. Which has to be done if we're going to be able to sell our house. We've had our hearts set on moving and have been living very frugily for a few years now to try and get ready for a new home. It's times like this when our dream takes a one-two punch that I get discouraged.
I try and stay positive and pick myself up during times like these, but inside I'm dealing with frustrations, anger, and resentment. This husband and father can get weary. Marybeth and I don't need much. We're not the kind of people to want new cars and a mansion. We're just trying to clear some debt and get a livable home for our kids. Times like now feel like we're getting knocked backwards.
All that said, this day too shall pass. I have faith in the Gospel and God's individualistic love for me. This gives me hope to keep my eyes on the horizon and to remind myself of a Father who is walking through all of this with me.
God loves me. (And He loves you!) And that is enough.
I struggle a lot with the prosperity gospel. I don't want this to sound personal towards any particular person, but when I hear a Christian say that God wants us to have our best life today or to live comfortable and happy, I cringe. Maybe I'm an exception, but to me, life isn't meant to be easy and care-free. I constantly find myself stretched by issues with money, family, work, and many, many other things that can make life frustrating and difficult.
It's not always like this. There are good days as well as bad. But life always presents it's challenges.
What I do strongly believe is that I have the ability to choose how I'm going to react when things are hard. And being a Christian gives me the kind of hope that helps me have a positive and encouraged outlook.
The last few days are a good example. Two days ago, Marybeth's car had to go in the shop. The repair bills have crept up to $600. The car is drivable now, but there are still things that need to be fixed that will have to wait. And in the middle of all of this, my car's check engine light came on and I noticed that I'm five months (yes, five!) past due on an inspection. For those of you not in NC, you can't pass an inspection here until you have the check engine light cleared.
Who knows what a mechanic will find on my car, but whatever it is, here comes "life" full steam ahead!
And by the way, all this happened within hours of me paying a contractor one half of a $4,000 bill to redo our master bath. Which has to be done if we're going to be able to sell our house. We've had our hearts set on moving and have been living very frugily for a few years now to try and get ready for a new home. It's times like this when our dream takes a one-two punch that I get discouraged.
I try and stay positive and pick myself up during times like these, but inside I'm dealing with frustrations, anger, and resentment. This husband and father can get weary. Marybeth and I don't need much. We're not the kind of people to want new cars and a mansion. We're just trying to clear some debt and get a livable home for our kids. Times like now feel like we're getting knocked backwards.
All that said, this day too shall pass. I have faith in the Gospel and God's individualistic love for me. This gives me hope to keep my eyes on the horizon and to remind myself of a Father who is walking through all of this with me.
God loves me. (And He loves you!) And that is enough.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
New Year's Resolution
I have an extremely smart wife.
She asked me yesterday if I knew how Paul the Apostle’s name changed from “Saul” to “Paul.” I just assumed that Jesus did it when he met Saul/Paul on the road to Damascus. Something like, “Thou shalt now be called PAUL!”
‘Course, I was wrong. Nobody knows when his name changed. All we know from scripture is that it happened early in Paul’s ministry. In Acts 13:9, Luke referred to him as “Saul, who was called Paul.”
Here's the interesting part. Our New Testament Saul was probably named after King Saul in the Old Testament. King Saul was an imposing man, standing head and shoulders above all the other men of Israel. He stood out. He was known. He was tall and menacing, and his name represented power and stature.
The New Testament Saul was also a man who had spent his life chasing after political power, clout, and popularity. He was consumed with being known as an important figure in the Jewish nation.
However, in contrast to “Saul” (large and imposing), “Paul” simply means “small.”
After his physical encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, Saul's life did a 180. A complete turnaround. He lost all desire to promote himself. I imagine him suddenly saddened and embarrassed by his earlier craving for fame and glory. He renamed himself “Paul” as if to say, “Not me any longer Lord. All glory and honor and recognition belongs to you, my Savior, the risen Christ.”
And as Marybeth explained all this to me, I felt something click into place.
I don't set New Year’s resolutions. I believe in goal setting and stretching myself to become a better person, but I don't do it just because I'm changing my calendar. However, a new year is a good time to think about what’s working and not working in my life, and to come up with some areas that I need to improve upon.
After hearing the story about Paul, I realized that during 2008, I want to focus on being small. It doesn’t have anything to do with numbers. What I mean is that I don’t want my life to be about me. I want to reflect Jesus in such a way that when my name is spoken, those who know me don’t picture my face. I want them to immediately see Christ and feel His presence in their hearts.
The hard part is that it’s going to require me to be completely transparent. I’ll have to be honest with stories from my life about how Christ can heal a troubled heart and a broken relationship. But being transparent and honest is hard. We put on out “church face” and hide the ugliness of our day-to-day living. We don’t want to talk about the shouting match we got in with our wife last night. We hide our money problems and scream silently while we drown in debt. We pretend that we're not allowed to struggle with things like anger or alcohol, gambling, or pornography.
We need to be honest about our struggles. We need the light of Christ to shine through and heal us of the pain of our faults. We need to let others share in the glory of Christ in our lives so that they can experience the hope that a relationship with Christ can bring.
I pray that in 2008 God would give me the strength to be transparent.
And help becoming small.
She asked me yesterday if I knew how Paul the Apostle’s name changed from “Saul” to “Paul.” I just assumed that Jesus did it when he met Saul/Paul on the road to Damascus. Something like, “Thou shalt now be called PAUL!”
‘Course, I was wrong. Nobody knows when his name changed. All we know from scripture is that it happened early in Paul’s ministry. In Acts 13:9, Luke referred to him as “Saul, who was called Paul.”
Here's the interesting part. Our New Testament Saul was probably named after King Saul in the Old Testament. King Saul was an imposing man, standing head and shoulders above all the other men of Israel. He stood out. He was known. He was tall and menacing, and his name represented power and stature.
The New Testament Saul was also a man who had spent his life chasing after political power, clout, and popularity. He was consumed with being known as an important figure in the Jewish nation.
However, in contrast to “Saul” (large and imposing), “Paul” simply means “small.”
After his physical encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, Saul's life did a 180. A complete turnaround. He lost all desire to promote himself. I imagine him suddenly saddened and embarrassed by his earlier craving for fame and glory. He renamed himself “Paul” as if to say, “Not me any longer Lord. All glory and honor and recognition belongs to you, my Savior, the risen Christ.”
And as Marybeth explained all this to me, I felt something click into place.
I don't set New Year’s resolutions. I believe in goal setting and stretching myself to become a better person, but I don't do it just because I'm changing my calendar. However, a new year is a good time to think about what’s working and not working in my life, and to come up with some areas that I need to improve upon.
After hearing the story about Paul, I realized that during 2008, I want to focus on being small. It doesn’t have anything to do with numbers. What I mean is that I don’t want my life to be about me. I want to reflect Jesus in such a way that when my name is spoken, those who know me don’t picture my face. I want them to immediately see Christ and feel His presence in their hearts.
The hard part is that it’s going to require me to be completely transparent. I’ll have to be honest with stories from my life about how Christ can heal a troubled heart and a broken relationship. But being transparent and honest is hard. We put on out “church face” and hide the ugliness of our day-to-day living. We don’t want to talk about the shouting match we got in with our wife last night. We hide our money problems and scream silently while we drown in debt. We pretend that we're not allowed to struggle with things like anger or alcohol, gambling, or pornography.
We need to be honest about our struggles. We need the light of Christ to shine through and heal us of the pain of our faults. We need to let others share in the glory of Christ in our lives so that they can experience the hope that a relationship with Christ can bring.
I pray that in 2008 God would give me the strength to be transparent.
And help becoming small.
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