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MAKING EVERY MOMENT COUNT #1
CHRISTMAS NUDGES
Well, Merry Christmas, everyone. I suppose today we’re
really talking here on the radio to what the Bible calls “the remnant.”
The Chosen People. So many of our faithful listeners, who tune in during
their morning commute, or during a quick lunch break at the office . .
. well, they’re with their families today, having a great meal together,
remembering the Christ Child. And certainly we wouldn’t want to have it
any other way. But all of us here at The Voice of Prophecy — and especially
Ken Richards and I, our writers, David and Ken Wade, and Armando Cordero
. . . we wish all of you the very best and brightest of holidays today.
And a special December 30 greeting to all of you at the radio stations
where we’re privileged to broadcast. We taped this program earlier, but
bless your hearts — you’re right there at your consoles five days after
Christmas Day. We appreciate you each one, more than words can express.
If you haven’t yet opened up your presents, I hesitate to tell you my
Christmas story for today, because it might make you dissatisfied with
what was under your own tree. But here goes.
Associated Press had this one a while back about a college teacher named
Larry Lease. Shasta College, up in Redding, California, not too far from
where I used to pastor. And in his accounting classes, Larry used to joke
with the kids and tell them that if they ever struck it rich, why, he
hoped they would remember dear old Professor Lease, and maybe buy him
a new Porsche, ha ha ha. A hint which got him absolutely nada . . . not
even the proverbial apple-for-the-teacher, something he could munch on
while dreaming of his Porsche.
All of a sudden, last May, he got an e-mail from a kid named Robert. Robert
had taken his accounting class; Robert had remembered his teacher’s pathetic
pitch for a Porsche. And Robert had just one question: “What color? What
color Porsche do you want?”
And Larry Lease thought it was just a joke piled onto his joke . . . until
Mr. Robert Sullivan showed up at Shasta College with a burgundy Porsche
convertible, sticker-priced at $50,000, and registered, pink slip and
all, in the name of one Professor Larry Lease. True story.
Ironically, this young Robert Sullivan, after college, had hit the skids.
Unemployed. Homeless. Sleeping in HIS car. But in 1992 he hooked on with
a company that later turned into Commerce One. Commerce One went public,
Robert Sullivan became a multimillionaire, Larry Lease got a free burgundy
Porsche . . . a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. God bless
us every one.
And what exactly had Professor Lease said or done, besides his little
hint, that turned into a $50,000 Porsche? In this grateful student’s own
words: “He had faith in me. He always was there for me.” A little bit
of kindness, a teacher’s presence, and the miracle of compound interest
turned it into a dream come true.
Here’s our radio title for this holiday week: MAKING EVERY MOMENT COUNT.
The point being that every time we meet someone, or interact with a person,
it can count. It can count big-time. For Professor Lease, it counted in
ways he could never comprehend. He gave this young man just the briefest
of nudges, and the ripples of his influence turned into a tidal wave of
good fortune he’s still celebrating here five days after Christmas Day.
As we consider this “ripple effect” of our influence, as we touch the
lives of others, I can’t help but think of that very clever sci-fi trilogy
of quite a few years ago entitled Back to the Future. Of course, in time-travel
films and stories, this is one of the key elements: going into the past
and affecting some thing or some person. And then in the present time,
as we skip “back to the future,” the implications are staggering. A nudge
turns into a tsunami of change; as Doc Brown would put it, the time-space
continuum has been severely altered.
You might recall that young Marty McFly, played by the marvelous actor,
Michael J. Fox, lived in a dysfunctional home. He had a brother and sister
who were underachievers. Mom was an alcoholic. Dad was the geek of all
geeks, being pushed around by a fat-faced guy named Biff. All his life,
Dad had wanted to write fiction, but forget it. He was too unassuming,
too timid, too much a pushover to pursue his dream.
Well, then Marty travels into the past in a DeLorean. Back from 1985 to
the year 1955. He meets a young man who looks rather familiar . . . and
wow! It’s his dad! As a teenager. He’s just as geeky in 1955, with his
shirttail hanging out, six pens in his shirt pocket. He doesn’t have the
guts to ask Lorraine — that would be Marty’s future mom — out to the “Enchantment
Under the Sea” dance. And it’s Marty’s job to get Dad — I mean, George
— to ask her. And as the saga goes along, he even pumps his dad up a bit,
gives him some self-confidence. “You can do anything you put your mind
to, George,” he tells him. “Go ahead and write your fiction stories. Get
on the phone and ask Lorraine to the dance.”
Well, at the very end of the film, Marty finally returns to 1985. Expecting
to get home to the same grungy living room, the alcoholism, his brother
working at a taco stand. “My dad the loser.” Instead, the McFlys suddenly
live in Upper Suburbia. Dad’s a well-dressed, bold, confident leader,
with a bestseller to his name. Mom is slim, off the bottle, has her act
together. Best of all, with all that family royalty money, there’s a new
4 x 4 pickup in the garage with Marty’s name on the pink slip.
And why? Just that time-travel nudge from 1955: “You can do anything you
put your mind to, George.” The tiniest of turns away from apathy and toward
a new goal. An almost imperceptible course correction, leading away from
failure and toward masculine strength. And thirty years later, the behavior
miracle of “compound interest” has built up an amazing nest egg.
We want to talk all this holiday week about how the little nudges — plus
the compound interest — might make such a huge difference in the life
of someone you may bump into during the year 2003. Spiritually speaking,
you and I are all the time nudging up against other people. And which
direction are we gently pushing them?
For today, let’s just look into our own lives. Where we nudge ourselves
with the decisions and choices we make day by day. You and I have got
exactly two days left here in the year 2002 to think about our futures.
How we’re going to live. With God or without Him? How much with Him?
And with just two days left here, you might decide
to just wait until New Year’s Eve. Or another year. Or five years. Life
seems so fixed sometimes; the habits we have . . . we’ve always had them,
we think. We always will have them.
Well, as we close and rejoin our families, let me share a favorite paragraph
with you — speaking of the nudges we give ourselves. This is from the
book Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis, one of our favorites here at The
Voice of Prophecy.
“Good and evil,” he writes, “both increase at compound
interest. That is why the little decisions” — the nudges, we could say
— “the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite
importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic
point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories
you never dreamed of.”
That’s an exciting thought, isn’t it? If you’re struggling
with the fact that you’re stuck at 275 pounds, and you sure wish you were
at 200, maybe you’re discouraged about that. Trying to drop 75 pounds?
Listen, friend, the only way to get from 275 down to 200 is to move, first,
to 274. At some point, you’re going to journey through 274 to get to 273,
and then 270, and 250 and down to 200. And just a dietary nudge might
get you to 274. The same thing being true, of course, in so many of the
spiritual battles we face each morning of our lives.
Here’s the rest of Lewis’ quote, however, about compound interest. Because
it’s sadly true in the other direction as well. He writes this:
“An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger
today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which
the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible.”
Well, friend, how true as well . . . but here on December
30, let’s stay on the positive side of the Christmas tree. Maybe you’re
giving out gifts to your kids or grandkids later today. And you know,
just the right book — maybe a bright, cheerful, loving book that mentions
Jesus — could nudge that child onto a path that would astonish us all
ten years from now. Or as you tuck a $10 bill into that card, you could
scribble a little note, mentioning how much God has blessed you this year,
and you hope He brings that same abundance into their life next year.
Just a nudge — a natural, comfortable mentioning of the divine element
in a scenario that could so easily stay secular. And then the compound
interest quietly kicks in.
One interesting thing about the Christ Child born this day: He’s a fabulous
investment Banker. He knows all about compound interest, believe me.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
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