Food for Thought-Dying Was Possibly Part of the Deal

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Dying was possibly,
Part of the deal,
When I signed up,
To follow Jesus,
Not for meetings,
To hear people squeal,
At mediocre praise choruses,
And marvel at sound bites poorly delivered,
but to die,
if need be,
part of following Jesus,
is being called to die,
that’s one the big reasons,
we knew it when,
we knew it then,
martyrdom was what he asked,
to bear a cross,
and die with him,
it’s become too easy,
to live this,
Americanized sin,
21st century Christianity,
Sanitized worship,
A deodorized Jesus,
No different from Santa Claus,
Where no one remembers,
Or gives a moments pause,
At what he said,
Or what he taught,
How he lived,
From the day he commenced,
Forgive and you will die,
The kingdom of heaven,
Making no earthly sense.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Leadership Lessons from “Where The Sidewalk Ends”

1.  When someone you love, value, and need is missing from your life; your day is never quite the same.  You miss them.  You feel their absence from the most ordinary tasks and activities.  When they return, make sure they know how much you missed them. IMG_3596 2.  Everyone in a family, team, or organization has an important role to play.  Help others find their place and make them feel valued in their work. IMG_3597 3.  We are all searching for purpose in life.  What’s important is that we are still asking the question!  We haven’t lost sight of the need to have meaning and direction in our lives, especially when we feel like we’re not living up to our fullest potential.  We need to keep asking the question. IMG_3598 4.  Leaders need to lead by example.  If we’re not exemplifying the lives we want to others to follow, why would anyone want to join in IMG_3599 5.  The future doesn’t occur in the well planned, manicured spaces of our lives.  It happens where the sidewalk ends. IMG_3603

Food for Thought-The Discoloration of Endless Waves

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The partial reality,
of overwhelming desolation,
Inhibits my ability,
To recall the clamoring,
discoloration of endless waves,
Among the fragmented seams
Of black and white memories,
hanging on cracked walls,
displayed down hardened,
well-lit narrow halls,
and from those scenes,
accents clearly say,
“go forth and build,
the shaky sandcastle,
of the psyche
you call today”.

–Richard Bryant