Patches of Godlight- Day 26- June R&R

As I continue reading The Call.....

I came to one of my favorite phrases in the entire book. Guinness describes Christians as "patches of Godlight," and the image has stayed with me ever since.

The older I get, the more I find myself thinking about ordinary days.

When I was younger, I was fascinated by big moments. Championships. Major decisions. Opportunities. Turning points. The events that seemed to define a life.

But most of life is not lived in those moments. Most of life is lived on ordinary Tuesdays.

You answer emails. You drive across town. You sit through meetings. More errands.

You solve small problems. I always laugh and say a big part of my job these last 15 years as a school administrator is defusing about 2 or 3 atomic bombs every day. Sometimes, I don't know if I should cut the green or red wire, but I just do it- and things die down... rinse, repeat.

And if we are not careful, we begin to think those moments do not matter. Especially things that are so easily forgotten.

That is where Guinness helped me.

One of the themes running throughout The Call is that calling transforms even the commonplace. The ordinary becomes significant because it is offered to God.

Paul captures this beautifully:

"Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God."

I have always loved the comprehensiveness of that verse.

Years ago, I was asked to drive somewhere and pick up a person who needed a ride back to school. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the assignment. It was not a leadership opportunity. It was not a strategic initiative. Nobody was going to write an article about it.

It was just a ride.

As I drove, I found myself enjoying the day. I listened to part of a sermon. I prayed. I noticed the beauty around me. I even heard a good George Strait song on the radio.

When I picked up my passenger, I remembered something C. S. Lewis once wrote:

"You have never talked to a mere mortal."

That person was not an interruption, he was an image-bearer.

The ride back became one of those simple moments that quietly reminded me that life is full of opportunities to serve God that never feel particularly dramatic. The task itself had not changed- but my perspective had.

And perhaps that is what Guinness means by "patches of Godlight."

A Christian teacher becomes a patch of Godlight in a classroom. A parent becomes a patch of Godlight at home.

A coach becomes a patch of Godlight on a practice field. A businessperson becomes a patch of Godlight in the workplace.

Not because they are extraordinary, but because God shines through ordinary faithfulness.

Do you know the illustration of the three men working on a construction project? When asked what they were doing, the first said he was laying bricks. The second said he was earning a living. The third said he was building a cathedral. Even though all three were performing the same task.

What are you doing today? A seemingly mundane series of tasks? What about "spreading the light of Jesus Christ in a world choking in darkness"! Giving hope, being kind, modeling gratitude - being different enough that someone might ask you about the reason of the hope in you-

1 Peter 3:15- but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,

"Calling" lifts our eyes beyond the immediate task and reminds us that even ordinary work can participate in something eternal.

Guinness also makes an observation that I found increasingly convicting as I grow older. He points out that drudgery is (unfortunately) part of discipleship. Yeah, I don't like that either.

We tend to think significance lives in extraordinary moments.

Oswald Chambers argued the opposite.

"We do not need the grace of God to withstand crises—human nature and pride are sufficient for us to face the stress and strain magnificently. But it does require the grace of God to live twenty-four hours of every day as a saint, going through drudgery, and living an ordinary, unnoticed, and ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus." 

The older I get, the less interested I become in writing a grand mission statement and the more interested I become in glorifying God in whatever He places in front of me today.

The extraordinary Christian life is usually lived through ordinary acts of faithfulness repeated over a very long period of time.

And when those moments are offered to God, they become patches of Godlight.

There are no ordinary days,
Not a single one we’re given.
Every breath, every face,
Is a thread of grace we’re living.
From the hard-earned laughs to the tears we save,
These moments don’t come again—
There are no ordinary days,
When they’re spent with the ones we love.

Song Link: No Ordinary Days

The Drive of a Dream- Day 25- June R&R

One of the more interesting chapters in The Call is Guinness' discussion of vision, dreams, and what T.E. Lawrence called "the dreamers of the day."

Lawrence wrote:

"All men dream; but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible."

I think most of us understand what he means.

There are dreams that come and go. We daydream about what might have been or what could be. Then there are those dreams that seem to settle deep into our bones. They refuse to leave us alone. We think about them while driving, while working, while praying, and sometimes while lying awake at night.

The older I get, the less interested I am in whether people have dreams and the more interested I become in what those dreams are doing to them.

That may be one of the places where Guinness surprised me in this chapter.

The modern world tends to celebrate every dream equally. Follow your dreams. Chase your dreams. Believe in your dreams. We hear those phrases constantly.

Guinness is much more careful.

He points out that dreams can become dangerous when they stop serving God's calling and start serving our own ambitions. His warning is memorable:

"It is easy to abuse vision and make it serve as chaplain to our conceits or bellhop to our desires."

That line hit me harder this time than it did years ago.

The truth is that I can baptize almost any ambition if I try hard enough. Most of us can. We can convince ourselves that our plans, our goals, and our desires are automatically God's plans simply because we want them badly.

That is why I have come to appreciate what I would call a disciplined dream.

A disciplined dream is still a dream. It is still bold. It is still hopeful. It is still willing to attempt difficult things. But it is held with an open hand before the Lord.

Years ago I had a dream that consumed a good portion of my coaching life - I wanted to be part of a state championship football team.

There is no need to make that sound more spiritual than it was. I wanted it badly. I thought about it constantly. We came close in 1996 and again in 1997. Those losses hurt.

But there was another part of the dream that mattered just as much.

My prayer during those years was often something like this:

"Lord, I want to win a state championship, and when we do, I want to be able to look around and still have my faith, my family, and my friends."

At the time, I probably did not realize how important that second part of the prayer was.

The early years of driving toward a dream is so costly- I have often joked that I'm going to get to heaven one day and the Lord will say, "Why did you spend all that time drawing up football plays!" And the hunger and thirst we put into that (not just me- our entire team of coaches) is hard to describe... it was just on the edge on an unhealthy obsession.... but my prayer was sincere- I had to keep my faith, my family, my friends... and the harder you push, the more agonizing the pain when you falls short- quarterfinals, semi-final losses haunted me for weeks. In 1997, I was SURE it was our time only to be knocked out by a last second field goal!

Then 1998 arrived, and we went 15-0. The dream happened. Then we did it again- then 5 years later another one- I have 9 rings in my trophy case of various State and National Championships...

Read more about them here: The Significant Insignificance

What fascinates me now is that when I look back on those seasons, the championships are wonderful memories, but they are not what I treasure most. The relationships matter more. The lessons matter more. The people matter more.

In other words, the deeper prayer turned out to be more important than the visible dream.

That realization has changed the way I think about vision.

I still have big prayers, but my dreams have changed over the years.

I find myself dreaming less about achievements and more about faithfulness. Less about accomplishment and more about influence. Less about recognition and more about seeing God at work in my family, my students, and the people He has placed around me.

Perhaps that is what happens when calling begins to shape ambition. The dream remains, but it becomes disciplined - willing to wait and even listen.

How about this one? The joy of making ANOTHER person's dream come true. Like a sherpa taking someone to the top of Everest for the very 1st time.

One of the things I appreciate about Nehemiah is that he was not merely a dreamer. He was a prepared dreamer. When the king asked what he wanted, Nehemiah already knew. He had prayed. He had planned. He had counted the cost. He had done the hard work before the opportunity arrived.

Dreams without discipline are foolish fantasies. Dreams submitted to God with discipline become callings.

As I continue this June Tune-Up, I find myself asking a different question than I would have asked twenty years ago. Back then I wanted to know whether my dreams would come true.

Now I find myself asking whether the dreams I carry are actually God's dreams for me- and if they are not, then I hope He has the kindness to replace them with something better.

Because one thing I know for certain: every dream that comes from Him will ultimately lead us closer to Him.

And that is a dream worth pursuing.

Song Link: Dangerous Dreams

Staying Awake in the World- Day 24- June R&R

As I continue revisiting The Call and my old My Aim devotional series from 2014, I notice how different I am now than I was over a decade ago- in some ways much better and in some ways worse- but the grace that I need is the same!

In 2014, I wrote this line:

“Ask any invading army and they would agree: subtle compromise is always better than sudden captivity.”

I still think that is true.

Most people do not drift from God because of one dramatic decision. More often, it happens gradually. One small compromise. One season of neglect. One distraction that becomes a habit. One habit that becomes normal. One normal thing that quietly reshapes the soul.

And in 2026, I can't help but confess that I am a more 'worldy' person than I used to be in many, many ways. Some of it is prosperity, some of it..... fatigue. Some of it this techno-culture that offers many escapes.

Guinness’ warning about worldliness is not that Christians might suddenly stop believing everything. It is that we might continue saying the right things while slowly losing the distinctiveness that makes our witness meaningful.

Jesus said we are the salt of the earth. But He also warned that salt can lose its saltiness.

The question, then, is how do we live faithfully in the world without being absorbed by it?

That has always been a difficult balance. Some Christians become so comfortable in the world that there is almost no visible difference between their lives and the culture around them. Others respond by withdrawing so far from the world that they have very little meaningful contact with people who need the gospel.

Neither seems to fit the New Testament.

Paul addresses this tension in 1 Corinthians 5 when he reminds believers that avoiding immoral people altogether would require them to “go out of the world.” That is not the assignment. Christians are not called to disappear from the world, but neither are we called to be shaped by it.

That distinction matters.

One of the mistakes I mentioned back in 2014 is still a real problem. We often rail against sin outside the church while becoming strangely tolerant of sin inside our own hearts. We can be very alert to what is wrong “out there” and remarkably blind to what needs repentance “in here.”

Jesus warned about that too when He spoke about seeing the speck in someone else’s eye while ignoring the log in our own.

That passage has become more important to me over the years. Logs and specks are made of the same substance- what we rail against in others is usually much akin to us!

It does not mean we stop speaking truth. It means we speak it as people who are also under the authority of truth. The goal is not outrage. The goal is clarity, repentance, love, and faithfulness.

This is where Scripture becomes so important.

If we are going to stay awake in a world that constantly pulls us toward distraction and compromise, we need something stronger than instinct, personality, opinion, or cultural mood. We need the Word of God as true north.

One of the things I wrote in 2014 still feels accurate:

“Without the Bible, a believer has no hope of staying in between the ditches on both sides of the road.”

I might say it a little differently now, but the concern is the same. We cannot live by borrowed convictions forever. Listening to good preaching is helpful. Reading devotionals can be helpful. Christian podcasts and books may encourage us. But none of those can replace slow, honest, personal engagement with Scripture.

The Bible has a way of waking us up. It exposes what we have excused. It steadies what culture has unsettled. It corrects what our emotions have distorted.

And it reminds us that truth remains true even when it is no longer fashionable.

This also connects to something I mentioned yesterday about epistemology. Years ago, I spent time writing about how we know what we know. That may sound academic, but I think it is more important now than ever. We live in a time when people are flooded with information but often starved for wisdom. Social media multiplies misinformation, emotional reaction, and half-formed opinions at a speed previous generations could hardly have imagined.

So part of staying awake is learning to ask better questions.

Is this true?

How do I know?

Who benefits if I believe it?

What assumptions are shaping my reaction?

Does this line up with Scripture?

Those questions matter because a sleepy Christian is easily manipulated while a wakeful Christian learns to test what is plausible against what is true.

But staying awake is not merely intellectual. It is also relational and spiritual. Guinness keeps bringing the reader back to the reality that calling is lived before God and among people. That means worship matters. Fellowship matters. Confession matters. Evangelism matters. Serving others matters.

A Christian who is actively worshiping, praying, reading Scripture, loving people, and sharing the gospel is much harder (not impossible) to lull into spiritual sleep.

The world has always had its seductions. Comfort, pleasure, success, approval, distraction, and fear have been around a long time. The forms change, but the danger remains the same.

We begin loving things that cannot love us back- trusting voices that cannot save us.

So perhaps the question for today is fairly simple.

What is helping me stay awake?

And what is slowly putting me to sleep?

That may be worth thinking about as part of this June Tune-Up.

Songs:

Amusement Park Theology

Prayer Plans

Called to Make a Difference- Day 23- June R&R

One quick observation before moving on.

As I have been working through this June Tune-Up, I have been reading two different copies of The Call. One stays at work and one stays at home. Somewhere along the way I discovered that they are apparently different editions because some of the chapter titles and numbering do not quite line up.

At first that bothered me. I wanted everything to match perfectly. Then I realized it really didn't matter.

The ideas still line up.

In fact, that may be one of the unexpected lessons of this entire project. The biggest difference is not between the editions of the book. The biggest difference is between the person reading it now and the person who first read it years ago.

When I first worked through The Call, I was captivated by questions of vocation, mission, and direction. I wanted to know what God wanted me to do and how I could make the greatest impact possible.

Reading it again today, I find myself asking different questions. What sustains a calling over decades? What causes people to drift? What keeps a person faithful? How do we finish well?

That is why these recent chapters have felt so important. Guinness has spent time exposing the things that quietly sabotage a calling—pride, envy, greed, sloth, and worldliness. Having diagnosed some of those dangers, he now begins turning toward the positive side of the equation.

Today let's chat about Abraham Kuyper, one of the most fascinating figures in the entire book. Every time I encounter his story, I have the same reaction. Part of me is inspired and part of me is exhausted just reading the list of things he accomplished.

Kuyper served as a pastor, professor, journalist, politician, educator, editor, and eventually Prime Minister of the Netherlands. His influence touched nearly every sphere of public life. Reading his biography almost makes you wonder if he ever slept.

And yet, what struck me this time was not the length of his resume. It was something Guinness mentions almost in passing. During one of the most difficult seasons of his life, after years of public service and enormous pressure, Kuyper suffered a nervous breakdown. In the midst of that struggle, he wrote words that reveal the source of his motivation.

Above his bed hung a crucifix, and he wrote that when he looked at it, it was as though Christ was asking him, "What is your struggle compared to my bitter cup?"

That perspective sustained him.

The older I get, the more interested I become in what sustains people than what they accomplish.

When I first read The Call years ago, I think I was fascinated by culture changers. I loved reading about William Wilberforce, Joshua Chamberlain, Jonathan Edwards, Abraham Kuyper, and others whose lives seemed larger than life. There was something inspiring about people who left such a visible mark on the world around them.

I still find those stories inspiring, but I think I read them differently now.

At fifty, I probably asked, "How do people make that kind of impact?"

At sixty-two, I find myself asking, "What kind of life sustains that kind of faithfulness?"

Those are not exactly the same question.

One of the dangers of reading biographies is that we can become preoccupied with the extraordinary and miss the ordinary. Most of us are not going to become prime ministers, famous authors, military heroes, or historical figures. Most of us are going to spend our lives in classrooms, offices, homes, churches, businesses, neighborhoods, and communities.

Yet that is exactly where calling is lived out.

One of Kuyper's most famous statements was:

"There is not one square inch of the entire creation about which Jesus Christ does not cry out, 'This is mine!'"

Guinness returns to that idea repeatedly because it strikes at one of the great mistakes Christians often make. We divide life into sacred and secular categories. We imagine that ministry matters but business does not. Church matters but government does not. Worship matters but education does not.

Kuyper rejected that distinction entirely.

If Christ is Lord, then He is Lord everywhere.

For years I have believed that Christian education provides one of the greatest opportunities to shape future leaders. Not because every student will become famous or hold public office, but because every student will influence someone. Some will become teachers. Some will become parents. Some will become business leaders. Some will become pastors. Some will quietly serve in places that never make headlines.

And that is enough.

Perhaps one of the mistakes we make is assuming that making a difference always means becoming well known.The longer I live, the more convinced I become that the world is changed primarily by ordinary people who take their calling seriously. Not in big moments- in small encounters.

A teacher who faithfully loves students for thirty years.

A mother who raises children with wisdom and grace.

A businessman who conducts himself with integrity.

A coach who shapes character.

A pastor who preaches truth.

A friend who remains loyal.

Those lives rarely attract biographies, but they leave an imprint nonetheless.

As I read this chapter, I found myself wondering if the real challenge is not whether we dream big enough. It may be whether we are willing to be faithful where God has already placed us.

It is easy to imagine changing the world somewhere else. It is harder to see the opportunities sitting directly in front of us.

Perhaps that is why calling is such a powerful idea. It reminds us that significance is not ultimately measured by visibility. The question is not how many people know our name. The question is whether we are faithfully serving the One who called us.

And if Kuyper is right, that calling extends to every square inch of life.

The Sandman Effect- Day 22- June R&R

One of the interesting parts of revisiting The Call is realizing how differently I am reading it today than I did when I first encountered it more than a decade ago. At the same time, I have been re-reading the old My Aim devotions from 2014, and I find myself doing far more rewriting than editing.

And it may be that I can say the world has changed- but in reality I am very different than I was back then. Part of me is glad that some parts are gone- but there are others that I miss.

Many of Guinness' observations seem even more relevant now than they did then.

As I worked through Chapter 18, I found myself remembering another Os Guinness book that I enjoyed years ago. It was originally published as The Gravedigger Files and later republished under the title The Last Christian on Earth. The premise was similar to Lewis' Screwtape Letters, except Guinness focused on how the church slowly loses its effectiveness through a process he called "The Sandman Effect."

I actually wrote about this back in 2014. Looking at those notes now, one sentence still stands out:

"In this tactic, the church digs its own grave while Christians sleep."

When I read it now, it is more personal- I am often sleeping as well while my final day comes faster that I realize..

What strikes me today is that most spiritual decline does not happen because people consciously reject truth. Very few people wake up one morning and decide they no longer believe. The process is usually much slower and much less dramatic.

We get distracted or in my case, I'm more comfortable now and don't feel like fighting- and the fight is nor people, never is and never was. And somewhere along the way, important things slowly move toward the edge of our lives.

In my 2014 notes, I focused heavily on postmodernism and the changing nature of belief. Reading those thoughts now, I still think there was some truth there, but I am not sure that is the biggest challenge anymore.

Today, I think the bigger issue may simply be attention. What is shaping our imagination? What voices are we listening to all day long?

Guinness makes the observation that modern people increasingly judge ideas by plausibility rather than truth. In other words, something feels true because it fits the mood of the culture, not because it corresponds to reality.

But "plausibility" is strange in a culture where we constantly fed AI images and disinformation in our algorhytms.

One of the reasons this chapter resonates with me is that years ago I spent quite a bit of time writing and teaching about epistemology, which is simply the study of how we know what we know.

At the time, I was concerned that many Christians were not thinking carefully enough about truth. Looking back, I think that concern has only intensified. The challenge facing the current generation is not a lack of information. It is an overload of information.

The result is that many people no longer evaluate ideas based on whether they are true. Instead, they evaluate them based on whether they are repeated, popular, emotionally satisfying, or affirmed by the people they trust.

In other words, plausibility often replaces truth.

Social media has accelerated this process dramatically. Information can circle the globe before anyone has taken the time to verify it. False stories, misleading headlines, edited videos, and emotional narratives can spread faster than careful analysis ever could.

That does not mean everything online is false. It simply means that discernment has become one of the most important spiritual disciplines of our age. In many ways, the modern Christian is not suffering from a shortage of knowledge but from a shortage of wisdom.

The challenge is learning how to distinguish between information, opinion, plausibility, and truth.

Perhaps that is why Jesus repeatedly calls His followers to watchfulness. The battle for truth is rarely won by the person who consumes the most information. It is won by the person who learns to think carefully, biblically, and patiently in the midst of all the noise.

People often ask whether something feels authentic, meaningful, relevant, empowering, or compassionate before they ask whether it is actually true. We have become so immersed in stories, opinions, images, and constant information that plausibility often replaces credibility.

Back in 2014, I quoted Guinness saying:

"We have created a climate in which a thing's seeming to be true is often mistaken for its being true."

If anything, that observation feels more relevant now than it did then.

What concerns me is not that people are asking hard questions. Christians should never be afraid of hard questions. What concerns me is that many people have stopped asking questions altogether. They simply absorb whatever is flowing past them.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that one of the greatest battles of the Christian life is simply paying attention. Paying attention to God and His truth.

The danger of the Sandman Effect is not open rebellion. It is drift.

And drift is difficult to detect because it feels so normal while it is happening.

One of the reasons I have enjoyed this June Tune-Up is that it forces me to slow down long enough to notice things that are easy to miss during the normal pace of life. Reading The Call again has reminded me how quickly I can become distracted by good things and gradually lose sight of ultimate things.

Calling has a way of waking us up.

It reminds us that life is not merely about comfort, convenience, entertainment, or consumption. It reminds us that God has placed us here for a purpose and that purpose is rooted in truth whether the culture finds it plausible or not.

"What is shaping what I believe?"

Because whatever consistently shapes our attention eventually shapes our lives. Sometimes for the better, often for the worse. Where would we be without grace?

The Sleep of Death- Day 21- June R&R

One of the most haunting books I have ever read is Jon Krakauer's account of the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, Into Thin Air.

There are many moments in that book that stayed with me, but one in particular came back to mind as I read Chapter 17 of The Call. A climber described what happens when exhaustion reaches a certain point. Physical fatigue eventually becomes mental fatigue. Judgment weakens. Motivation disappears. The goal that once seemed so important begins to lose its meaning.

Then he made a statement that I have never forgotten:

"It is so pleasant to sit doing nothing—and therefore so dangerous."

That sentence captures something that Os Guinness is trying to address when he discusses sloth.

Most of us hear the word and immediately think of laziness. We picture someone sleeping late, avoiding responsibility, or refusing to work. There is certainly some truth in that image, but Guinness argues that sloth is actually much deeper than simple laziness.

He describes it as a spiritual condition.

Sloth is not merely the refusal to work - It is the temptation to stop caring.

That strikes me as one of the great dangers of the second half of life.

By this point, most of us have experienced disappointments. Some dreams never happened. Some goals were missed. Some relationships became difficult. Some battles were harder than we expected.

And if we are not careful, we begin lowering our expectations. Not because we have become wiser, but because we have quietly given up.

Dorothy Sayers described it as:

"The sin which believes in nothing, cares for nothing, seeks to know nothing, enjoys nothing, loves nothing, hates nothing, finds purpose in nothing, lives for nothing..."

That is a frightening description because it is possible to be very busy and still be guilty of it.

A person can work all day, maintain a schedule, pay the bills, and still slowly lose the sense that anything matters.

What struck me reading this chapter is how often Scripture connects spiritual vitality with faithfulness in small things.

Jesus says:

"One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much."

The older I get, the more convinced I become that many great failures begin as small acts of surrender. We stop reading. We stop praying. We stop serving. We stop learning. We stop caring.

One of the reasons I continue writing these reflections, reading books, listening to music, pursuing new projects, and trying to grow is that I never want to lose that sense of holy curiosity. I do not want to spend the latter chapters of life merely maintaining existence.

As part of this June Tune-Up, it may be worth asking a simple question:

What have I stopped caring about that God still cares about?

The answer may reveal more than we realize.