“. . . where the river flows everything will live.”  Ezekiel 47:9 

“There are two seas in Palestine.  One is fresh, and fish are in it.  Splashes of green adorn its banks.  Trees spread their branches over it, and stretch out their thirsty roots to sip of its healing water.  Along its shores the children play.  The River Jordan makes the sea with sparking water from the hills.  So it laughs in the sunshine.  And men build their houses near to it, and birds their nests; and every kind of life is happier because it is there. 

The River Jordan flows on south into another sea.  Here is no splash of fish, no fluttering leaf, no song of birds, no children’s laughter.  Travelers choose another route unless on urgent business.  The air hangs heavy above its waters and neither men nor beast nor fowl will drink.  What makes this mighty difference in these seas?  Not the River Jordan.  It empties the same good water into both.  Not the soil in which they lie; not the country round about. 

This is the difference.  The Sea of Galilee receives but does not keep the Jordan.  For every drop that flows into it another drop flows out.  The giving and receiving go in equal measure.  The other sea is shrewder, hoarding its income jealously.  It will not be tempted into any generous impulse.  Every drop it gets, it keeps.  The Sea of Galilee gives and lives.  This other sea gives nothing.  It is named the Dead Sea. 

There are two kinds of people in the world.  There are two seas in Palestine.”  

Bruce Barton (1886-1967) 

Somewhere years ago, I had read this little narrative by Bruce Barton, which came to mind during our recent tour of Israel (as it is known today).  Our journey began in the north along the Sea of Galilee, then carried us south more or less alongside the Jordan River toward Jericho, on to Jerusalem, and eventually the Dead Sea.  It is exactly as Barton described.

“. . .where the river flows everything will live.”  Yet, just as there are these two distinctively different seas, there are also two kinds of people in the world.

“And . . . Love your neighbor as yourself.”  – Luke 10:27 

Having spent many hours on airplanes this past week traveling abroad, I caught myself as usual only half listening to the flight attendants’ obligatory instructions about seatbelts, tray tables, the location of the lavatories, and in particular the part about the oxygen masks coming down from above in case of a loss of cabin pressure.  That one always intrigues me, especially when they tell us that if we are traveling with a small child to place the mask on ourselves first before placing it on the child.  It seems backwards to me, counterintuitive; for isn’t it our instinct to take care of the child first?  Yet, the logic actually makes perfect sense, meaning if we take care of ourselves first we are then much better equipped to take care of the needs of the child.

One of my wife’s friends once suggested that when we pray we should pray for ourselves first.  When she shared that idea with me my first impression was much the same as with the oxygen mask and the child.  Should we not focus our prayers first and foremost on the needs of others, I questioned?  Yet the logic is the same, only by taking care of ourselves first are we equipped to tend to the needs of others.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “I can never be all I ought to be, unless you are what you ought to be.  You can never be what you ought to be, unless I am all I ought to be.”  How do we get to be all we ought to be unless we are generous toward ourselves in body, mind, and spirit?  We must have something to give before we can offer it to someone else; otherwise we are of little use.  How can we expect to provide oxygen to a child if we are gasping for breath; or how can we offer spiritual intercession for another when our own soul is malnourished?

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” Jesus commanded, “And . . . Love your neighbor as yourself.”  But in order to love our neighbor we must also love ourselves, not selfishly but unselfishly.  Then and only then are we capable and equipped to serve others, to care for and comfort the sick and the poor, to feed the hungry, provide drink to the thirsty, or to place an oxygen mask on a small child.  As Dr. King’s words remind us, “You can never be what you ought to be, unless I am all I ought to be.”

“. . . seek and you will find.”  – Matthew 7:7 

While hiking up a heavily wooded mountainside trail in Yellowstone Park several years ago, Tee and I were about to turn back when we noticed a steep, narrow path veering off in another direction.  Feeling adventurous we decided to see where it would lead.  As we climbed higher and the woods became more dense apprehension set in, again tempting us to turn around.  Having become exhausted, we started to question the wisdom of our decision to follow that trail in the first place. Then suddenly a clearing appeared up ahead, and in just a mere few steps we emerged onto the most gorgeous mountain meadow one could ever imagine, with breath-taking views in all directions.

“Two roads diverged in a wood,” we were reminded from Robert Frost’s familiar poem “and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” 

Not all “less traveled” paths lead to such a beautiful sight.  In fact, many do not.  Some get us lost; others are dead ends, while many turn out to be long disappointing detours.  One thing is for certain, though; if we keep driving the same busy freeways and never venture to exit onto unfamiliar roads from time to time our lives will remain mundane and routine.  Only when we try things new and different will we ever discover things new and different.

Try getting up at 3 a.m. – on purpose! – just to experience what the world is like in that wee hour.  Drive a different route to work.  Turn on a street that you’ve always been curious where it goes.  Try a new recipe for dinner.  For your next vacation plan a trip someplace you’ve never been.  Do something you’ve never done but always wanted to try.  You may be surprised what you discover – about yourself and the world around you.

“Seek and you will find,” Jesus urged us.  But seeking requires action, and sometimes choosing the road less traveled.  It happened to us one day in Yellowstone when we chose to explore a steep, narrow, densely wooded mountain path, and it led us to the most glorious sight we had ever seen.  As the poet said, we took the road less traveled by, and that made all the difference.

“I press on toward the goal to win the prize . . .”  Philippians 3:14 

When I entered my freshman year of high school I had a dream.  That dream was to earn, as a freshman, a varsity letter jacket in a sport, any sport, didn’t matter which one.  For a little shrimp of guy like me with only modest athletic ability it was a tall order, or what Jim Collins refers to in his book Good to Great as a BHAG, a Big Hairy Audacious Goal.  To compound the challenge I didn’t play football, freshmen were relegated to the junior varsity basketball squad, and our school did not have a baseball team at the time, which left only one sport – track, and I wasn’t very fast.  I did have, though, enough endurance to run long distance races, which was my only hope.  But despite my hard work and diligent training I still fell short, never so much as even placing in a single race.  So, by the end of my freshman year my big dream became a bust, and I was heartbroken.

Then one day during summer break the doorbell rang.  I answered the door and there to my surprise stood Coach Higdon holding a box.  “What’s this?” I asked as he presented it to me.  “It’s your letter jacket,” he replied.  “But, but I didn’t . . .” I stammered.  “It’s for golf,” he explained with a smile before I could finish my sentence.  Golf?  I had forgotten all about that, didn’t know anyone paid attention to golf or even considered it a varsity sport.  “You guys won the district championship in golf, remember?  That earned you a letter jacket.”  I was speechless!  But it was true, we were the first golf team our school ever had and by some miraculous stroke of fate we had won the district championship – and my dream, my BHAG, had come true after all.  After the coach left I carried my new letter jacket into my room where, all alone, I buried my face in it and wept.

Dreams and BHAGs are sometimes fulfilled in unexpected ways.  “We shake the apple tree,” Julia Cameron says in her book The Artist’s Way, “but sometimes the universe delivers oranges.”  The point being, of course, to keep shaking the apple tree – to keep dreaming big dreams and setting BHAGs for ourselves – but don’t be surprised if the payoff comes in unexpected ways, sometimes in ways we never imagined.  Mine did, and I have kept the letter from that jacket to remind me, not about golf which I don’t even play anymore, but the importance to “press on toward the goal to win the prize”.

“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him . . .”  – Psalm 37:7 

Most of the major mistakes I have made in my life can be traced back to a common human weakness, impatience and acting too hastily, and taking matters into my own hands.  That goes from speaking out of turn, saying the wrong things, or hurting someone by something I’ve said, to making poor choices, to bad strategic decisions both in life and in business.  Impatience can blind us from our ability to reason clearly and to maintain faith that the right actions and best solutions will occur when the time is right.

The story of Abraham and Sarah is a perfect example.  God, you may recall, had promised Abraham that he would be the father of many nations.  Yet he and his wife Sarah, who were advancing in years, remained childless despite God’s promise.  Eventually they became impatient and took matters into their own hands.  Sarah’s handmaid thus became the mother of Abraham’s son, Ishmael.  Except, they had acted hastily, for this was not the son God intended for them.  Finally, when Abraham was 100 and Sarah was 90 God did give them their son, Isaac, the one who he had promised.  All they had needed to do was “be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.”

Many years ago, when my career was on the rise I became impatient that opportunities for advancement were not coming my way fast enough.  Then an offer came I thought would be the answer to my longing for super success.  Instead my impatience had blinded me from thinking clearly, and my faith had faltered in believing that better opportunities might be in store.  The result was that acting hastily I made a bad strategic decision that almost destroyed my career.  But, as with Abraham and Sarah, that better opportunity did come along in due time, which restored my career back to the right trajectory.  In retrospect, it would have saved me a lot of pain if I had remained patient.

My grandchildren love to bake cookies with their grandmother.  But inevitably around age two they all do the same thing, they grab the cookie cutter out of Grantee’s hand then announce predictably, “I do it myself!”  You can imagine what comes next – a big mess, flour, sugar and cookie dough all over the floor.  But aren’t we all like two-year-olds in a way, impatient and acting hastily, taking matters into our own hands, then making a big mess?  If only we would learn to “be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.”