Olive Tree has put out some nice updates on their Bible software.
Olive Tree makes electronic versions of biblical material -- along with related content -- for every major smartphone and PDA platform, which means you're good on Android, Symbian, iPhone, Palm and BlackBerry. In addition, they have a bunch of free resources (like Bible reading schedules) that are useful for everyone. Specifically for BlackBerry, it seems they have expanded on the capabilities of both touchscreen and keypad/QWERTY devices.
There are live discounts available for software titles.
Check them out. Bible Reader is a mainstay on my device, and has been a true blessing in my life.
This article from David Knowles stuck with me. The original case was one which stood out in the national consciousness, and it had everyone's moral compass firing North.
I admit it: I think Ms Davis may have point. They are paying him to talk about ethics?
Oh well... wow. I'd probably be more willing to pay Ms Davis for a speech at this point, but then again, I don't roll in the circles that Harvard folks do.
While working in the corporate world, my boss had a novel thing to say about his abilities. His worth -- as a trainer of personnel -- was the quantity of his own people that, in our corporate parlance, "moved up". In other words, his abilities as a supervisor were directly proportional to the number of his own subordinates that could do his job after a reasonable period of time.
Now, I know it is easy to draw flack nowadays for referring to the church as a corporate entity. Indeed, I happen to humbly think that church leaders should concentrate a little more on being busy with the gospel as opposed to the business of the gospel... but that is a discussion for another day.
There does seem to be a basic idea that seems to be lost in this new age of leadership. Where are all the disciples?
Discipleship seems to be a lost concept, one which just seems to be overlooked.
In our younger christians, the effects seem telling. It seems we are seeing a new generation of young adults. They are jazzy, up-tempo, have more than just a passing knowledge of Christ, but have no urge to speak of it. College (and later on, life) becomes one big field of landmines because we did not accompany the cool activities with any depth. We developed a population of Christ Followers Lite who know the hooks to alternative gospel but really never learned how quiet time is important.
What happened to discipleship?
We are culpable. I think this is a critical juncture, and we MUST rethink our course. We need to decide if we are gonna continue to pump up these new believers with frills or help them shape their faith. We need to allow ourselves to be used to help create the type of christians who can and will do the continuous job of propagating the gospel.
Against the backdrop of Larry Johnson's infamous tweets, Pete asks a question: should churches monitor the social networking feeds of their staffers?
I tend to lean towards light on the "m" word, heavy on the "c" (connection). In these days and times, there is nothing like too much accountability. Truth is, what we do online (blogging, tweeting, FB, Tokboxing, etc) are all representative of our ministries. Like it or not, people perceive them as representative of Jesus Christ.
We've always had popular men of the cloth. The advent of social networking simply helps make them viral.
The results can be funny. I overheard two acquaintances going back and forth about how awesome their respective pastors where. Various major points were compared, from hair gel to mobile device.
Finally, one of the debaters threw down his trump card. "My pastor can do a split!"
At this point, I had to interrupt. I needed to agree... his pastor was cool. A pastor who does splits? Incredible. I felt inadequate and unfulfilled, and made a mental note to request the same from our pastor during the next church event.
Looking back, I wonder why I did not have the presence of mind to ask for an in-depth reason as to why his pastor did a split in the first place. Then again, it was probably best left unsaid. In any case, this pastor had achieved celebrity status on account of his proficiency of a move that defined MC Hammer.
The hushed, reverential tones of congregants when mentioning their pastor is a clear sign. You live where? Have you heard Reverend so and so? No? GOODNESS!
Makes you wanna raise a lighter to the sky.
It isn't only pastors. Lately, it seems the church (I use the term collectively) is eager to bestow the term "believer" on any famous person that utters the word "God" in any public forum. The problem here is obvious; this includes even the most hedonistic stars that win at awards shows and every artist facing felony charges. Look on the cover of some of your favorite christian magazine for proof.
Celebrities rule.
Of course, the real danger is when the messenger becomes greater than the Message. Is modern christianity being driven by personality cults? Do we treasure the trend more than the substance?
We live in an age where we are all addicted to sizzle. We like the famous, and want to be like them. We allegedly unmoor balloons with imaginary children in them in order to get reality shows. Why should the church be any different?
Except for one small fact: it should. And we need to reevaluate our motives, because if I see any pastors making any homemade devices that can float, I refuse to visit that church.
Now, what are you, as a parent or youthworker, gonna do about it? How about harnessing it?
I think they are fantastic outlets, and can really be used to develop existing bonds. I do tend to lean towards being a hardliner when it comes to supervision.
If you're child won't let you have unbarred access to it, they shouldn't have the medium. Period.
Even better... why don't you have your networking identity and "friend" your child? It's a win for all.
Innovation is the name of the game at church nowadays.
You have to have an angle, something that pumps up the crowd, and no only keeps the congregants coming, but encourages them to invite friends and family to come see.
Some ideas are worse than others, and so I have taken it upon myself to write an abbreviated guide to help churches figure out a few ideas to roll with, and a few too discard. I have four (4) grades:
Winner! (This is cool, everfresh and can't be faded).
Good (worth trying, but look left, right and left again before implementing).
Fail! (I wouldn't do it, unless I was trying out for a dysfunctional reality show.)
The Benny (dedicated to my good friend Tee; this is "Fail to the nth power" {where n equals infinity}. I have taken the liberty to use a graphical illustration to denote The Benny).
1) Donuts and coffee Grade: Good. Reason: 10 years a go, you could build mega churches on this alone. Now, it is almost expected. With proper fellowship, it is effective. Do not try to save money by going for saltines and sweet tea.
2) Online resourcing Grade:Winner! Reason: Uh, Duh... meet the needs of the people in the prevalent medium. No-brainer. Website, Twitter account, FaceBook page... whatever. If there is a void, fill it.
3) Social Networking Grade:Winner! Reason: see above, my friend; see above.
4) Fundraising car washes with teens in bikinis
Grade:The Benny Reason: the image says it all. Fail, fail, FAIL!!! I wish I had a coat big enough to beat you all with simultaneously. What were you thinking? Why? It's a church fundraiser, not a casting call for Baywatch.
When your programming starts to require parental advisory labels, it's time to step back and reevaluate your goals.
5) Civil War reenactments Grade:Fail! Reason: C'mon. Do you really have to ask? C'mon. Some cultural experiences are best left outside the church. What next, a stage reenactment of The Alamo or The Battle of The Bulge (the musical)? Just stop. C'mon.
6) Hospital/Infirm Ministry Grade:Winner! Reason: This one gets the overlooked award. Nothing screams "caring" more than pastoral staff and/or congregants willing to fellowship with folks in hospital or at home. Hospitals are sterile and cold; visitations provide warmth. Old school? Our Lord spent more than a little time with the sick and infirm. Let's copy that.
7) Church Stickers and bumper magnets. Grade:Good. Reason: I like it, but tread carefully, friends. We have all heard of the pastor who was cut off in traffic by a car he didn't recognize (but which had his church's big, glossy sticker on the bumper). When the pastor blasted his horn (actually being more friendly than confrontational), he was answered with three upraised middle fingers, from the driver's side, passenger and a rear windows. All together.
The pastor pulled close at the next light and was astonished by the glare he got from one of the church deacons, the deacon's wife and son. The glare turned into a look of meek shame, of course.
While it makes for a great opportunity to reshuffle your deacon board, one fundamental truth stands out: if you live by the sticker/magnet, you (or more accurately, your church's reputation) can die by the sticker/magnet. Overall church health first, frills later.
8) The special "offering staff" relay. Grade: The Benny
Reason: Call me stuffy, but giving each family that makes $1000 offerings a special, faux-bling-encrusted staff to run around the church on Sunday makes me uncomfortable. Granted, I do admit to wondering how it would feel, since, as the eldest son, it would have been my right to run the staff on my family's behalf.
No, I am not making this up.
I need a coat...
9) Bibles. No... really... physical Bibles. Grade:Winner! Reason: Wanna know what the most important thing a new disciple needs? Same thing that a tenured, seasoned Christ-follower needs: a bible. Yes, I myself am a huge proponent of electronic resources, but sometimes, nothing is more reassuring than an old-fashioned, tried and true physical bible. Have some available. In the sanctuary. In the dining area. In the vestibule.
When it comes to life, the toughest thing sometimes is just living. It takes a deep immersion in faith to get to a point where you can do it well, and do it with an "overall" smile.
Some folks do it better than others. And this is one reason I dislike 180 pal Kimberly Thompson.
Kimmie (who she is to me) is a special kind of person... she makes me question why I would ever stay glum. She has this thing about her that makes me ashamed to be down.
So, why do I dislike Kimmie? Too many reasons to count. Here are a few:
- When asked about her outlook on life, she answers with: "To sound incredibly cliche, life is what you make of it." I don't like people who can get profound points across so concisely.
- When you ask her how she finds a way to be positive, she comes back with: "By knowing that I serve a God who is faithful, and ultimately everything will work together for for my good." Since I sometimes struggle with this, you can see how she gets on my nerves.
- You get the same grounded answer when you ask her what biblical verses she uses to anchor herself:"'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me' is always a good pick-me-up."
Even with all this, I was willing to give Kimmie a pass. The answer to my last question pretty much sealed the deal and put her squarely in the "Dislike" category:
- What do you think of Karen Byrne?"She is awesomeness and you know it!!!!" She really used 4 exclamation marks.
Whatever.
On a more lucid day, I could talk about how wonderful it is to communicate with someone with such an undisguised love for God. I'd say how cool it is to have an instant prayer partner, and how Kimmie is an inspirational friend that I hold dear.
But, that last answer bothers me, and so I simply won't say that stuff.
The other day, I decided to work harder at being the type of servant I teach folks to be. I decided to start small.
Let me preface this by saying that currently, my favorite thing in the world is not mowing grass. I love a nice, tight lawn, but the combination of weather and cheap lawn mower makes the whole process a downer for me. Every time I prepare to rev it up, tears of apprehension inevitably well up in my eyes.
Anyway, I found the perfect service opportunity. My neighbor needed a cut. I knew she was busy, she lived with her adult daughter, and was always nice. So I zeroed in.
When I found her driveway empty, I quickly mowed ours, and moved on to hers. As soon as I mowed the first line, my lawnmower conked out on me.
Uh-oh.
My mind raced. I knew how it would look. I would be viewed as the neighborhood bully... the guy who cut his grass, and went on to harass others about theirs. The HOA informant. It would look like I was sending a message: Cut Your Grass. OR ELSE.
My kids would be ostracized, my wife's car would be egged, and any shot I had of joining the school board would be permanently nixed.
I feverishly tried to restart the mower, lest my noble, genteel, holy intentions were misinterpreted.
The mower characteristically refused to start, but it gave me time think and analyze my own motives. Why was I doing this? I truly did not want to receive thanks, but who was I doing this for? Was showing love my true motive, or was I trying to make myself feel better about, well, myself?
Eventually, I got the mower to start. I finished the yard, swept up the spare grass on her sidewalk and driveway, and went in to rest. Yes, I did feel a great sense of completion.
Our neighbor didn't say anything about it. In truth, she works so hard it is possible she didn't even notice it. I am fine with that, and it actually makes me feel even better. I wondered if I could start an alternative lifestyle as a secret hero, helping people solve their lawn problems at night.
I could take this to a global level.
Oops... there goes the "me" again. The aspirations to be the famed Masked Mower will have to be put on hold; I have people to serve closer to home.
I am a fairly competent guy -- by my own estimation, at least -- and I hate failing at challenges.
My biggest strength, I believe, is resourcefulness. In other words, Google is my friend. Give me a laptop or smartphone and an internet connection, and I can do just about anything.
Till recently.
My wife's driver's side headlight went out. No sweat; super hubby was here. How hard could it be? Besides, I had the Holy Grail of consumer car repair: The Hanes Manual.
I went out and looked at it. The setup was a tad different than my car, but with my Hanes Manual, it had to be easy. Right?
Then came hurdle 1: my beacon of manly car repair, my sweet Hanes Book, was missing.
I looked high and low for it. Nowhere. Not good.
In truth, I wasn't too perturbed. I still had Google.
I searched high, and searched low. Finally, after hearing some genius wax authoritatively about entering the wheel well through the interior of the car, I was done. DONE!
"Don't worry... I'll just take it to Sam" my wife suggested, referring to our trusty mechanic.
Not on my watch. I have no problem with taking serious stuff to Sam. Granted, I have a low threshold, but in that moment, changing headlights was that self-imposed limit.
So, I grabbed my tool box, and stepped outside, daring any of our neighbors to ask me why my 18V Dewalt cordless drill looked so new, much less why I was using it on a car.
I toiled all afternoon. Soon is was dark. My wife came out and looked at me sympathetically, looking wondrously at the sweat on brow. She guessed (correctly) that the perspiration was caused by shame.
"I think we should take it to Sam," she said quietly.
I agreed.
I refused to shame myself by calling Sam. I had her do it. On Saturday morning, I drove her car to Sam.
I was apologetic to Sam. I knew this was a major job, and I didn't want his ego to take a beating. I knew how that felt. It wasn't his fault; it was the blasted American engineering. I had my blog idea list ready to go, and I was ready to wait out this job.
It took a while. About 180 seconds.
I hadn't even pulled my BlackBerry out, and he was done. With both bulbs. Two tabs, and bingo.
"Anything else?" Sam asked.
Whatever.
I got in the car, and drove around to kill time. Still, when I got home, my wife looked knowingly when I came in.
"That was fast," she said.
"Don't wanna talk about it. Ever." I stomped up the stairs.
Pride cometh before a fall. I comfort myself with the fact that no one, and I mean NOBODY, can change a tire faster than me.
A few weekends back, my older girls had a tough going in our regular league play.
Ravaged by flu, we went into back-to-back games undermanned against two good teams. On Saturday, we drove 90 minutes to play in Asheville. One of my toughest players, Y, was so sick she could hardly stand. With only 11 other players, I knew it would be tough, and we dropped our first game of the season 3-1 after an understandably dismal second half.
Sunday looked to be bleaker. Y was done, so we had only 11 players. 11! Then, one of my players forgot her cleats. We were three hours away from home, no sports stores close by, and no one had extra cleats.
In youth sports, we talk about going to war, and kicking in the opponent's teeth and more. The news is filled with abominable stories of crazy youth parents, but when it comes down to it, we meet some of the best people around in youth sports.
I am taking my hat off to the players, parents and coaches of Carolina Mountains Soccer Club U-13 Blue G team. Coach Bill and his parents treated us with class. My player was provided a pair of cleats by the mother of one of the CMSC players. Bill inquired into the health of my players, and even offered to let us take breaks during the game to ensure my players did not get dehydrated.
The game ended in a goalless tie. It is memorable to me for many reasons; my ladies showed their grit, but I also have Bill to thank for that, because he did not cheapen the game by holding back. I believe both teams are the better for playing it, and it helped create the deep regard I have for CMSC.
Thank you for showing why we do what we do. It is an honor to have played those ladies of 96G Blue.
Till I received this blog link from my dear friend Pam, and found teardrops accumulating in my eyelids.
Cancer is harsh, and even when defeated, the scars -- physical and emotional -- can be overwhelming. As a disease, breast cancer is only rivaled by the pain and despair it can leave in
its wake.
This month, take time to say I love you to ALL the women in your lives. It's perfect practice for the other eleven months.
It has been a busy Summer and Fall. Two teams to coach (and travel with), running the youth program at East, deciding to help run the YCI program at East Meck, finding the time to do FCA at the same school, and most importantly, a new baby at any time.
Oh Yeah. I. Am. On. Fire. God keeps the doors permanently open.
East has been a fountain of opportunity. Great people, and there is ALWAYS something to do. Our Youth Sunday was successful, and now we are looking to be used by God in other ways.
I also get to work with PJ on our web initiative. Very, very time consuming, but very, very rewarding. I take my hat off to all the REAL web architects out there. Creating a church website is no joke, and for all my assumed computer savvy, it has been a steep learning curve.
So, all in all, it has been one blessed time period.
Gotta run. I have a pregnant woman to attend to, and I want to live to tell y'all some more.
As a soccer coach, I have learned quite a lot about being charge. Mostly, that "being in charge" is not a call to dictatorship. I have also learned that to be successful with kids, you must be successful with the motivating factor behind those kids.
Yes, I am talking of the "P-word" here: PARENTS!
When I was younger, it was easy to view parents as a necessary evil. You almost always had one that was a a braggart, another who knew the governor, and one whose knowledge of soccer consisted of the drunken periodic scream "Big kick, d*****!" Yet, in everything, those folks are the same people who have the most influence on your players. You learn to value them. Some of my best friends are parents of current and past parents.
Last weekend, I was thrust into the hot seat. My baby girl was playing a game. And I was on the sideline, for the first time in my life, as a parent.
When I watch soccer games, I automatically go into analytical mode. I look at formations, balance, weak side threats and relative speed of attack. It is the goalkeeper in me, honed by years of coaching. Within seconds, I can generally figure out leaks and advantages.
On Saturday, I couldn't do that. My eyes were on #7. My pride knew no bounds, even when she stood rooted to the ground for 5 minutes without going for the ball. This same move would have elicited a growl from me with my older players... but at that moment, to me, it was almost adorable.
The toughest thing was letting go. I had always shied away from pushing Mimi towards soccer. I never wanted to become the crazy father, forcing her to practice juggling till 1 AM daily. So seeing her pick it up and play herself was humbling, and it was weird seeing Coach Thad bringing her along.
I take my hat off, again, to all the guys and gals who coach youth soccer at the grassroots level. You know... the folks who have not been jaded by advanced coaching courses, and who probably never heard of the game till they found out their kids would not have a season if they did not step up. Thanks for all you do, for creating the individual masterpieces that we get later on in the journey.
Thanks to all the rec coaches, like Coach Thad, who work hard, a lot of times for free, and help ensure that I can switch from Coach Tre to the one title in the world cooler than that:
I happened to catch some of Tyra Bank's show the other day, and was it heart-wrenching. Tyra had a bunch of teens, one as young as thirteen (13) who confessed to having numerous sexual partners. The discussions, which included most of the girls talking about sexual activities in public, their parents bed, without contraceptives and even multiple partners, included commentary from shocked mothers and pep talks from the host.
Interestingly, the mothers generally knew their daughters were sexually active. It was the sheer amount that seemed to scare the daylights out of them.
But one thing stood out to me. The script was not too far off the beaten path. Some of the girls seemed nonplussed, all the mothers were mortified and the studio audience feigned shock and indignation.
As always, load the ladies on stage, force them to confront their self-destructive behavior, and, if you are able to make them look stupid enough (and their parents overly naive), television ratings will follow.
One question: where are the boys?
Now, forgive me for donning the naive hat myself for a qucik second. Yes, I have heard all the arguments that state that society has conferred the duty of being the gatekeepers of sexual morality at the feet of the Softer sex. Still, until we begin to confront the issue in our boys and young men, it will always be a problem.
The high-five culture has to stop. Promiscuity in boys should not be celebrated or, even worse, ignored. When do we start reminding our boys to treat women like rubies? I propose you put the boys up on stage, and show them the insecurity and devastation their actions cause, and superimpose the images of the girls they treat shabbily with pictures of their mothers and sisters. Then, tell the studio audience to look at them with the same type of uncomprehending shame.
Till then, these shock shows will be blips on the radar, and the problem continues: we are raising boys who are not learning how to esteem women.
I want to give a quick shout-out to Rick Parker, fellow Tarheel and principal at East Mecklenburg High School in Charlotte, NC. Mr Parker was kind enough to take the time to meet with me, even with last minute schedule changes on my part.
I have a couple of his wards in my youth group, and is the first principal I have ever known to be loved by all the kids in the group. It's always nice to have your local principal pledge support.
I look forward to getting involved in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. It is a blessing to share boundaries with a high school in this biz.
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Olive Tree has put out some nice updates on their Bible software.
