This one is more entertaining than inspiring.
To me, it was a reminder that God has given us all talents.
To some he has given the talent to entertain.
It may seem inconsequential, but lightening the load of fellow human beings matters.
Whatever your talents, use them to help others.
Make it a great day.
Jake
Below is a powerful story shared in an email that I received.
These lines in particular stood out to me:
“Those who were able to forgive their former enemies were also able to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and horrible as that.”
Holding on to past wrongs actually keeps us from building the lives we want.
Whether the offense you are holding on to was as small as putting the toilet paper on facing the wrong way or as serious as the imprisonment in a Nazi concentration camp, all can be forgiven.
Who can you forgive today?
Make it a great day.
Jake
“The Face of My Enemy”
by Corrie ten Boom
It was in a church in Munich that I saw him–a balding, heavy‐set man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken and moving along the rows of wooden chairs to the door at the rear. The year was 1947, and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives.
This was the truth they needed most to hear in that bitter, bombed‐out land, and I gave them my favorite mental picture. Maybe because the sea is never far from a Hollander’s mind, I liked to think that that’s where forgiven sins were thrown. “When we confess our sins,” I said, “God casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. And even though I cannot find a Scripture for it, I believe God then places a sign out there that says, ‘NO FISHING ALLOWED.’”
The solemn faces stared back at me, not quite daring to believe. There were never questions after a talk in Germany in 1947. People stood up in silence, collected their wraps in silence, left the room in silence.
And that’s when I saw him working his way forward against the oth‐ers. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights, the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor, the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were!
The place was Ravensbruck, and the man who was making his way forward had been a guard–one of the cruelest guards.
Now he was in front of me, hand thrust out: “A fine message, Fräu‐lein! How good it is to know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bot‐tom of the sea!”
And I, who had spoken so glibly of forgiveness, fumbled in my pocketbook rather than take that hand. He would not remember me, of course–how could he remember one prisoner among those thousands of women?
But I remembered him and the leather crop swinging from his belt. I was face‐to‐face with one of my captors, and my blood seemed to freeze. “You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,” he was saying. “I was a guard there.” No, he did not remember me. “But since that time,” he went on, “I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fräulein”–again the hand came out–“will you forgive me?”
And I stood there–I whose sins had again and again needed to be forgiven–and could not forgive. Betsie had died in that place–could he erase her slow, terrible death simply by the asking?
It could not have been many seconds that he stood there–hand held out–but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
For I had to do it–I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. “If you do not forgive men their trespasses,” Jesus says, “neither will your Father in Heaven forgive your trespasses.”
I knew it not only as a commandment of God, but as a daily experience. Since the end of the war I had had a home in Holland for victims of Nazi brutality. Those who were able to forgive their former enemies were also able to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and horrible as that.
And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion–I knew that, too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. Jesus, help me! I prayed silently. I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.
So, woodenly and mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, and sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.
“I forgive you, brother!” I cried. “With all my heart.”
For a long moment, we grasped each other’s hands–the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely as I did then. But even so, I realized it was not my love. I had tried and did not have the power. It was the power of the Holy Spirit as recorded in Romans 5:5: “Because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.”
I found this gif and had to send this email out again.
Everything’s coming up Millhouse.
Meaghan and I have frequently used this line around the house over the years.
I especially love it when we use it in reference to some little, seemingly inconsequential thing that has gone well.
Just found $5 in your coat from last winter….Everything’s coming up Millhouse!
Just got the front row parking spot…..Everything’s coming up Millhouse!
Pulled up right when they are lowering the price at the gas station….Everything’s coming up Millhouse!
For some reason, this line brightens my day each and every time I hear it.
Make it a point today to look for something that has gone right. Then turn to the person closest to you and say….”Everything’s coming up Millhouse!”
Make it a great day.
Jake
Yesterday was the anniversary of 9/11 and we have recently had two major hurricanes come through.
All of these events are a stark reminder that tomorrow isn’t promised.
We (and our loved ones) aren’t guaranteed to be free from something bad happening.
We don’t control the weather.
We don’t control other people.
We can’t predict and control all the variables.
We are not in control of what happens around us.
We can only control our reaction.
Today, my hope for you is that you let these events spur you on to love more.
Reach out in love to family members and friends you haven’t seen in a while.
Be a little nicer to the waiter or waitress today at lunch.
Take the kids outside to do whatever it is they are begging you to do.
Hold on a little more tightly to that special someone in your life.
Make the most of the day.
You aren’t promised you’ll get another one.
Make it a great day.
Jake
If you want to change the world don’t ever, ever ring the bell.
This is the last one in the series of lessons learned by William McRaven as he gave them in a recent commencement speech.
It is fitting that he gave this one last.
Never give up.
Is there something in your past that you have given up on that you need to get started on again?
Are you closing to giving up on something right now?
Don’t ring the bell.
Make it a great day.
Jake
Here is the text from this section of his speech:
Finally, in SEAL training there is a bell. A brass bell that hangs in the center of the compound for all the students to see.
All you have to do to quit is ring the bell. Ring the bell and you no longer have to wake up at 5 o’clock. Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the freezing cold swims.
Ring the bell and you no longer have to do the runs, the obstacle course, the PT — and you no longer have to endure the hardships of training.
Just ring the bell.
If you want to change the world don’t ever, ever ring the bell.
We all have a choice when it comes to the stuff that is in our lives.
If it doesn’t add to your life, maybe you need to get rid of it.
Don’t let others or impulse decisions decide for you how much of your life you are investing in stuff you don’t need.
Make it a great day.
Jake
So, if you want to change the world, start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud.
This story is my favorite of the short ones shared by William McRaven about his time in Navy SEAL basic training.
It is a story about the power of hope.
Never underestimate the power of a little hope.
Never miss a chance to be the one to give a little hope.
Make it a great day.
Jake
Here is the text of this part of the speech:
The ninth week of training is referred to as "Hell Week." It is six days of no sleep, constant physical and mental harassment and one special day at the Mud Flats — the Mud Flats are the area between San Diego and Tijuana where the water runs off and creates the Tijuana slues — a swampy patch of terrain where the mud will engulf you.
It is on Wednesday of Hell Week that you paddle down to the mud flats and spend the next 15 hours trying to survive the freezing cold mud, the howling wind and the incessant pressure to quit from the instructors.
As the sun began to set that Wednesday evening, my training class, having committed some "egregious infraction of the rules" was ordered into the mud.
The mud consumed each man till there was nothing visible but our heads. The instructors told us we could leave the mud if only five men would quit — just five men — and we could get out of the oppressive cold.
Looking around the mud flat it was apparent that some students were about to give up. It was still over eight hours till the sun came up — eight more hours of bone chilling cold.
The chattering teeth and shivering moans of the trainees were so loud it was hard to hear anything and then, one voice began to echo through the night — one voice raised in song.
The song was terribly out of tune, but sung with great enthusiasm.
One voice became two and two became three and before long everyone in the class was singing.
We knew that if one man could rise above the misery then others could as well.
The instructors threatened us with more time in the mud if we kept up the singing, but the singing persisted.
And somehow, the mud seemed a little warmer, the wind a little tamer and the dawn not so far away.
If I have learned anything in my time traveling the world, it is the power of hope. The power of one person — Washington, Lincoln, King, Mandela and even a young girl from Pakistan, Malala — one person can change the world by giving people hope.
So, if you want to change the world, start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud.
So, If you want to change the world, don’t back down from the sharks.
Another lesson learned by William McRaven in his Navy SEAL training.
Sharks and bullies are a fact of life. At some point, we all will be faced with the decision of whether or not to stand up to them.
And each of us will have a moment when we need to summon up all the courage we can muster and decide not to back down.
Not just for our own sake, but because it is the right thing to do.
It doesn’t have to be the traditional bully from the playground.
It could be a disease and you could be supporting a local chapter of an organization to fund research and search for a cure.
It could be a political issue you feel strongly about and you could be making your voice heard.
It could be supporting our troops as they stand up to the bullies all over the world for us.
It could be any kind of wrong that requires that the forces of good stand up.
Make it a great day.
Jake
Here is the text from the speech:
During the land warfare phase of training, the students are flown out to San Clemente Island which lies off the coast of San Diego.
The waters off San Clemente are a breeding ground for the great white sharks. To pass SEAL training there are a series of long swims that must be completed. One is the night swim.
Before the swim the instructors joyfully brief the trainees on all the species of sharks that inhabit the waters off San Clemente.
They assure you, however, that no student has ever been eaten by a shark — at least not recently.
But, you are also taught that if a shark begins to circle your position, stand your ground. Do not swim away. Do not act afraid.
And if the shark, hungry for a midnight snack, darts towards you, then summon up all your strength and punch him in the snout and he will turn and swim away.
There are a lot of sharks in the world. If you hope to complete the swim you will have to deal with them.
So, If you want to change the world, don’t back down from the sharks.
If you want to change the world, you must be your very best in the darkest moment.
More words of wisdom from William McRaven’s commencement speech.
He tells the story (below) of how during a particular training exercise there is a moment that requires their very best in order to succeed.
Jim Collins said it by saying that not all time is created equal.
There are moments in our lives that require more from us.
More patience.
More skill.
More endurance.
More love.
More grit.
And these moments can define us. They can be the difference between victory and defeat.
We get to choose whether we give it our all or give in.
Make it a great day.
Jake
Here is this section of the speech:
As Navy SEALs one of our jobs is to conduct underwater attacks against enemy shipping. We practiced this technique extensively during basic training.
The ship attack mission is where a pair of SEAL divers is dropped off outside an enemy harbor and then swims well over two miles underwater using nothing but a depth gauge and a compass to get to their target.
During the entire swim, even well below the surface there is some light that comes through. It is comforting to know that there is open water above you.
But as you approach the ship, which is tied to a pier, the light begins to fade. The steel structure of the ship blocks the moonlight — it blocks the surrounding street lamps — it blocks all ambient light.
To be successful in your mission, you have to swim under the ship and find the keel, the centerline and the deepest part of the ship.
This is your objective. But the keel is also the darkest part of the ship, where you cannot see your hand in front of your face, where the noise from the ship’s machinery is deafening and where it is easy to get disoriented and fail.
Every SEAL knows that under the keel, at the darkest moment of the mission, is the time when you must be calm, composed — when all your tactical skills, your physical power and all your inner strength must be brought to bear.
If you want to change the world, you must be your very best in the darkest moment.
Wouldn’t it be great to give away a million bucks?
Who would you give it to?
What charity would you send money to first?
Most of us don’t have a million to give away, but we could probably spare 5 or 10 or 20 or 100.
Find somewhere to make a donation today.
Make it a great day.
Jake
In case you didn’t think of anything.
Click below to donate to the disaster relief efforts in Houston:
Practical Steps for Friendship, Unity and Intimacy in Your Marriage
The Daily Attitude Email 