I was treated to a great lesson on influence recently at a conference I attended. Justin Elam’s message was one he has been sharing for a while now about how to equip others by asking questions vs. providing ready answers. The outline of his talk started with this Strauss quote: “The wise man doesn’t give the right answers. He poses the right questions.”
There is a hilarious image I have in mind of a cartoonish, slightly more balding version of me, giving myself a Homer Simpson slap on the forehead and exclaiming “DOH!” as I think back on just how many things I got wrong as I was growing up. For instance….
Should we strive to be the golden child or should we suffer as the pariah? What is the right posture to assume as we move through life? Is this the right choice? Must we choose one of these paths or is there a third choice that leaves us better positioned for true success?
Moms. They are our champions. Whether it is your actual Mom or someone who simply pulls you into their circle and treats you like their child, like the best teachers do, they are fiercely and ferociously for us. They provide us with the unfathomable, unconditional love that we typically only receive from one Other Place, far above this one.
(Hint: You may have to click this open to see it formatted as intended 🙂 ) Look Up When you want to look down Look Up When you feel like a clown Look Up When you’re lost and not found Look Up When you’re slammed to the ground […]
I still need help practicing consistently: quickly changing my response from one of “equal and opposite” reaction to one of service, grace and compassion
What kind of society could we have if we unleashed our children to play and fall and re-work their environment as the wolves did in Yellowstone? What kind of society will we have if we don’t?
My wager is that you know, deep down that there is hope, even in the midst of sorrow and that there is always an “other side” to cross over to and always a bridge you can cross.
Before I got past my biases of what Easter was about, it was just another holiday where I got to eat all my kids leftover chocolate. Now, I still dip into the chocolate, but I have a renewed way of looking at it. I now have a new language for Easter.