Monday Memo

by Steve May

Murray Warmath, former head coach of the Minnesota Golden Gophers, once said about his team’s pathetic win-loss record: “If lessons are learned in defeat, our team is getting a great education.”

Do you feel like you too are getting nothing but a “good education”? Do you feel like you’re knocked down more times than you deserve, crossing the goal line fewer times than you should? We all go through stages of defeat — sometimes stages of extended defeat — but Warmath is right: this is where lessons are learned; it’s where we get the best education.

Bill Gates once said, “Success is a lousy teacher.” One of the world’s most successful men understands this principle: You learn more from your losses than you learn from your victories … that is, if you’re willing to take the time to evaluate your failures.

Ever preach a bad sermon? When it happens, how do you respond? Do you shrug your shoulders and say, “Oh well; guess I wasn’t ‘on’ today.”? Do you ask, “I wonder what was wrong with those people today?” Or do you relive it moment by painful moment, analyzing the introduction, scrutinizing the outline, reframing your major thoughts?
It’s the sermons that fall flat that often teach us our most valuable lessons in preparation and dependence on the leadership of the Holy Spirit. For this reason, I am thankful for the sermons that went awry. In the long run, they’ve helped me preach more effectively and more consistently.

This principle works in every area of life, if you’re willing to learn from your past mistakes — jobs that didn’t work out, relationships that failed, ministry projects that fell short of expectations, and on and on. We need to get in the habit of using mistakes as a foundation for a good education. Failure is a good teacher if you’re willing to pay attention to what it says.

Whoever gives heed to instruction prospers, and blessed is he who trusts in the Lord. (Proverbs 16:20)

I received a brochure a while back from a company specializing in “resilient furniture”: simple, sturdy, water resistant tables and chairs — not fancy in any way, but built to last. They’re not cheap either; a plain white folding chair is about $60. They’re not as pretty as the office chairs I buy at Sam’s for about the same price, but those chairs, as I am reminded every time I have to replace one, don’t have a long life-span.

There’s something to be said for basic, unadorned resiliency—the ability to get through, get over, and thrive after trauma, trials and tribulations. In this sense, sturdy beats stylish every time.

USA Weekend did a cover story a few years ago on the subject of resiliency, asking the question, “Why do some people bounce and others break?” The article noted how some people who experience trauma withdraw into a shell, while others facing the same crisis not only bounce back, but bounce back stronger than ever before. It talked about how resiliency is being studied in universities and taught in corporate seminars. Resiliency, the article said, could become the most important skill of the 21st century.

Why do some people break down while others bounce back? Unlike furniture, I don’t think it has to do with our design. A chair can only be as strong as it was made to be; it can’t decide to be more resilient or less resilient. We, on the other hand, have access to support beyond ourselves.

Our “design” — our emotional make-up resulting from parental and societal influences — can be overcome. A person who is naturally weak and easily discouraged doesn’t have to stay that way.

There’s a verse in Philippians that is so often quoted its meaning is sometimes overlooked. Paul is talking about being able to face hard times as well as good times, and he states confidently, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

Resilience often comes down to a decision: whose strength will I draw from — my own, or God’s? One of the wonderful truths of the gospel message is that if you will look to God for strength, he will give it to you.

I lift up my eyes to the hills — where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1-2)

Warren Wiersbe said, “A realist is an idealist who has gone through the fire and been purified. A skeptic is an idealist who has gone through the fire and been burned.”

Do you know what the difference is? It’s not the fire, or the heat or the duration. It’s the attitude you bring into it. When you look back on life’s unpleasant events, you can choose to see what you learned from the ordeal, or you can choose to just see it as a bad experience.

In every trial, every problem, every difficult situation, God is seeking to teach us something new, he’s seeking to take us to a higher place. Maybe it’s a chance to exercise a bolder faith, maybe it’s a chance to identify bad behavior that we must abandon, maybe it’s an opportunity to practice perseverance.  The lesson is always there in difficult situations; we can choose to be purified and made holy, or we can just allow ourselves to become burned and bitter.

Daniel wrote, “Many will be purified, cleansed and refined by these trials. But the wicked will continue in their wickedness, and none of them will understand. Only those who are wise will know what it means.” (Daniel 12:10)

In 1912, marathon runner Shizo Kanakuri was chosen to represent Japan in the Summer Olympics at Stockholm.

He began the race with the rest of the runners, but along the way was overcome with heat. He stopped at a garden party for some refreshment, but he stayed a little too long — more than an hour. It was now, he thought, too late to get back in the race. He took a train to his hotel and caught a boat back home, too ashamed to tell anyone he was leaving.

For more than 50 years Shizo was listed as a missing person in Sweden, until a journalist finally found him; he had spent the last several decades living a quiet life in southern Japan.

In 1966 the Swedish Public Television network called him with an offer: Would you like to finish your run? The 85 year old Kanakuri accepted, and he traveled to Stockholm to finish the race he had started so many years before. This time he did cross the finish line; his final time was 54 years, 8 months, 6 days, 8 hours, 32 minutes and 20.3 seconds.

Our reward is not for starting the race, it’s for finishing it. We already know that. As Paul said in his farewell, “I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me…” (Acts 20:24)

Here’s the next thing I want you to remember: It’s never too late to get back in the race. You can start running again today. The finish line is still where it used to be.

I was reading recently about Cal Ripken’s record. You know which one I’m talking about: He played 2632 consecutive baseball games. This is a record that may stay in the books forever; he will certainly be remembered forever as a legend in the game.

Most sports records are set when a player gets on a hot streak — he has a good game or a good month or even a good season. Ripken’s record is the result of a ‘hot streak’ that lasted more than 16 years. Day after day he simply took the next step in the right direction, one game at a time.

Something many people don’t know about Ripken is that during his first year as a pro, while playing minor league ball in West Virginia, he made his mark in a different way: he committed a league-leading 33 errors at short-stop.

Not a good start. Since his dad was already well-known in the world of baseball, critics called him an over-rated kid, not cut out for life in the big leagues. But Cal Jr. kept taking one more step in the right direction, one game at a time. Later in his career he went 95 consecutive games without making an error, and committed only three in an entire season — another record he holds. Ripken’s habit of taking one more step took him on a journey from worst to first.

It’s a journey you can take, too. God wants to pour out his grace in your life. He wants to change you through and through. He wants to give you victory over sin, and the power to live the life of your dreams.

Today, if you feel like you’re the worst, he wants to help you move in the direction of becoming first.

Paul said, “For I am the least of the apostles. In fact, I’m not even worthy to be called an apostle after the way I persecuted God’s church. But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on m — and not without results.” (1 Corinthians 15:9-10)

God is ready to pour out his grace — his special favor — in your life, too. Accept it, and take that next step in his direction.

Andre Previn said, “If I miss a day of practice, I know it. If I miss two days, my manager knows it. If I miss three days, my audience, knows it.”

He was talking about the piano, but the same is true about your devotional life. When you’re spending time with God on a consistent basis, it shows. When you aren’t, it also shows. You’ll see it first, then those closest to you, and, pretty soon, it’s obvious to everyone.

Paul said that you can be “transformed by the renewing of your mind…” (Romans 12:2) This renewal — this transformation — occurs during those quiet moments we spend in the presence of God, when we open his Word and open our hearts to what the Spirit would say to us.

No matter what one accomplishes professionally in the work of the ministry, this time with God remains a daily priority. If Andre Previn needs to practice the piano every day to stay at his best, we need to practice the presence of God every day to stay at our best.

In 1941, Japanese soldier Hiroo Onoda was sent to a small US-occupied island in the Philippines with orders to do all he could to hamper enemy attacks on the island. He linked up with a group of soldiers already stationed there, but within a month, all but four of the men had been killed in battle. Hiroo and the others took the hills.

In 1945 they began seeing pamphlets stating the war had ended, but Onoda dismissed them as propaganda. In the following few years, the others surrendered or died one by one, but Onoda held his position, even continued his guerilla activities … until 1974.

Onoda finally met a college dropout named Suzuki backpacking in the island who explained to him the war had ended. Still, the dedicated soldier was reluctant to believe. Finally, his former commanding officer — long since retired — flew to the island and gave Onoda his orders to lay down his arms.

There are two directions I can go with this illustration, both of which have relevant application.

The first is to realize that Hiroo Onoda’s story is one of honor. He was sent to do a job and he refused to leave his post until he received a specific order, even though it was 29 years before the order arrived. We would do well to stay in the battle ourselves — the battle that Ephesians 6:10 reminds us we’re in. We would do well to keep fighting until we hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful…come and share your master’s happiness.” (Matthew 25:21)

Another way to apply this story is to remember that so many of us — just like Lt. Onoda — are unnecessarily fighting a war that has long since been won. The wrong war. This is not the battle we’ve been called to, it’s the battle we’ve been saved from. And we’re not engaged in combat because of honor, but because of pride and disbelief.

Before Jesus breathed his final breath, he cried out “It is finished.” Maybe some within the sound of his voice thought he was talking about his own life, or maybe they thought he was talking about the future of his following … but the truth is that he was talking about the power of sin and death. Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. (John 19:31) And at that moment death was swallowed in victory; the cost of our freedom was paid in full.

Like the pamphlets that arrived on that tiny Philippine island, we have heard about our liberation — but we refuse to believe it. It’s too good to be true. We stubbornly stay in the fight, and we lose battle after battle — the same battles he has already won.

It is finished, he said. Sin. Death. Guilt. Regret. Sin. Despair. Isolation. And did I mention sin? These are all swallowed up in the victory of the cross and his powerful resurrection.

His work is finished, he has rested. And he is inviting us now to rest in him.

There’s a story in W.A. Criswell’s biography that illustrates how you can never measure the impact of your ministry.

W.A. tells about the day of his conversion: It was Autumn, 1920. His church was holding a revival and Criswell received permission to skip school to attend a special mid-day meeting.

At the close of the service, W.A. responded to the invitation and accepted Christ as his Savior. Seven years later he was licensed to preach. He soon began a lifetime of ministry, including 55 years as pastor of First Baptist Church of Dallas. He wrote more than 50 books, led untold thousands to Christ, trained hundreds for the ministry. He was one of the most influential pastors in America during the 20th century.

But this story is really about the man who preached that 1920 revival which changed the course of Criswell’s life. His name was John Hicks. He had been a guest in the Criswell’s home during the two week revival, and young W.A. had been greatly impressed with the man’s manner and character. This admiration compelled the 10 year old boy to attend every service and hang on every word the preacher spoke, which led to his decision to follow Christ.

Years later, as Hicks lay dying in Baylor Hospital, his friend Wallace Basset sat with him during his final moments. Hicks said, “Wallace, my life is over, my preaching days are done, and I’ve never done anything for Jesus. I’ve failed, Wallace. I’ve failed.”

Apparently John Hicks never knew about the special contribution he had made to the kingdom of God: how one revival meeting held in a small Texas town — and specifically one sermon preached on an Autumn morning — touched the heart of a young boy who would, in turn, touch the lives of millions in the years to come.

The words of Paul come to mind: “Devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and teaching. Do not neglect your gift…” (1 Timothy 4:13-14)

Maybe you can’t see the full results of your ministry at this moment. Maybe today your years of sacrifice and hard work resemble nothing. Remember this: You’ve accomplished things that you don’t know about — and you may never know about them on this side of glory.

What appears to be failure sometimes isn’t failure at all. Stay devoted to your work. Do not neglect your calling. Do not neglect your gift. And during those days when measurable results remain elusive: do not give in to despair. God is using you. —SM

Norman Vincent Peale used to say, “It’s always too soon to quit.”

This reminds me of a quote attributed to Ross Perot: “Most people give up just when they’re about to achieve success. They quit on the on the one-yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game, one foot away from a winning touchdown.”

On this subject, Paul encouraged us,“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)

The “proper time” sometimes takes a little longer to arrive than we like. And sometimes it feels like the proper time will never arrive. This is when we need we need to engage our faith. It’s when we need to determine to dig in and stick around a little longer. It’s never a good time to quit.

B.C. Forbes said, “History has demonstrated that the most notable winners usually encountered heartbreaking obstacles before the triumphed. They won because they refused to become discouraged by their defeats.”

The Christian life — and more specifically, the ministry — consists of overcoming one defeat after another. That’s because we’re in a spiritual battle and everyday we confront the enemy. We may lose a little ground from time to time, but we will not lose the war. We have been promised victory — a harvest of righteousness — if we do not give up. It’s always too soon to quit.

[NOTE: The quotes from Ross Perot and B.C. Forbes were found in Jack Canfield's book, The Success Principles.]

In the Ken Burns PBS series on jazz music, Duke Ellington was asked how it felt to be unable, due to segregation, to stay in the guest rooms of the hotels he and his band performed in. He said, “I took the energy it takes to pout and wrote some blues.”

Lately I keep coming back to Romans 5:3 — “And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance, and perseverance, proven character…”

Tribulations are unavoidable, inevitable and inescapable, but you can change how they affect your life with a right response. You can use your energy to pout, or you can use it to make great music. It’s up to you.

Every day we face some kind of setback, some kind of disappointment — and everyday we have the opportunity to invest our energy in something more productive than anger, frustration, resentment or self-pity. Our challenge each day is to put those reactions aside, and focus on every opportunity to make music.