"...most of us really do love people. A lot....If one expectation you have of love is talking a lot, you’re going to be disappointed at times. But, this may help to know—for some introverts, one expectation we have of love is giving the people we love time to not have to talk." - C.Leaders
"Conflicts are actually opportunities. That doesn’t mean the desired end always happens, but conflicts do give us opportunities to grow and change. This is true for roommates, families, neighbors, churches, institutions, cities, and nations. " - TGC
"Before we get into the theological aspects of hard conversations, remember this: if at all possible, have the conversation in person and in private. When discussing embarrassing, frustrating, or painful topics, it’s important to convey not only the right tone of voice, but also the right body language." - TGC
"Over the years, Christians have produced and read far more books on how relationships and singleness should work than on how these things actually dopan out. Vicky Walker’s new book Relatable: Exploring God, Love, & Connection in the Age of Choice, based on a survey of more than 1,400 people, aims to change that." - Christianity Today
"Why a growing number of congregations are taking deliberate steps to relearn the habit of talking together." - Christianity Today
Reposted from The Cripplegate.
Insurance companies amaze me. One little speeding ticket or a minor fender-bender, and everything changes. Your monthly payment sky-rockets. They no longer trust you. Simply for doing the human thing of making a mistake, you henceforth are placed on insurance detention. They not only record the minor mishap, but your previously good relationship with them goes sour from merely one mistake. One little blunder results in a tarnished relationship.
Too often we can be the same way in our relationships with one another. Someone commits a few small sins against us and look out; like the graceless insurance company, the relationship gutters. We place them on our spiritual detention list for relational prosecution. We are no longer trusting, but suspecting. We are no longer caring, but gossiping. We are no longer inviting, but ignoring. We are no longer loving, but judging. And we are sinning.
Love … does not take into account a wrong suffered. (1 Cor. 13:5)
In the Greek, there is one word translated, “take into account.” It describes someone who keeps a mental record of events for the sake of some future action (Louw & Nida, 1:345). The word also was used in ancient Greek as an accounting term; the act of keeping track of debts and expenses. The idea, then, is that love does not act like a meticulous accountant who precisely records and holds onto every wrong-doing of others. Love does not cling to its hurt feelings.
Why is it that the most difficult thing to do at times is ask for help?
I think we know why. When we ask for help, it means we are vulnerable, admitting our weaknesses, and probably owning up to a mistake or two.
It doesn’t matter that we know everyone has weaknesses and makes mistakes. We don’t want to be the one in the passenger seat. Although pride is self-destructive, we want to maintain control and handle problems on our own. It’s OK if other people ask for help—as a matter of fact, we encourage people to reach out. But this is one area where we don’t practice what we preach.
One of the first rules of Appalachia is never mess with a drunken redneck.
I was reminded of this just a few days ago. It was Sunday evening around 6:30 and my husband and I had decided to take our kids up to the playground of their elementary school. Normally, we’d be at prayer meeting at this time, but today was Homecoming Sunday. We’d already spent the majority of the day at church, enjoying worship, dinner on the grounds, and homegrown music. Everyone needed the evening to decompress, and the playground and walking track sounded perfect.
As we stepped out the door to get in our van, we noticed a rusty, white Ford Explorer parked on the edge of our property. A solidly-built man in his mid-to-late forties was walking around one of our trees and seemed to be sizing it up. He was wearing cargo shorts, a dirty cut-off t-shirt, and somehow managed to have a long, straggly ponytail and a shaved head simultaneously. He was accompanied by a younger man, a copy of himself, minus the ponytail.
