Jay Cookingham lives in Hyde Park, New York with his wife, Christine. They have been happily married for 30 years and have seven children, five boys and two girls. He is passionate about his relationships, with God, and his family. They are the fuel for his creativity and the drive to finish strong. Jay has a great desire to help men understand how much God loves them and how His purposes for them are just the ticket to become all they want to be. Jay grew up in a dysfunctional family. Unfortunately, many times people who grow up in this kind of environment fail to move past the unfavorable situations they find themselves in. But he did. Jay blogs at Soulfari. You can follow him on Twitter here.

Image purchased at Lightstock

NOTE FROM THOMAS: TODAY I HAVE THE HONOR AGAIN OF FEATURING GRAYSON POPE AS MY GUEST. MORE ABOUT GRAYSON AT THE END OF THIS POST.

You want to be remembered, to leave a legacy, don’t you? Sure you do. But how can you leave a legacy that matters?

How can you build something worthwhile here on this planet that will live long after you’re gone? What quality should you possess to propel your monotonous life into a legacy-leaving life?

Quite simply, it’s this: being thoughtful.

Sounds a bit counter-intuitive, doesn’t it? You think leaving a legacy is all about action and doing stuff, right? Well, to a degree, you’re right. Leaving a legacy that matters is going to require real work on your part.

But there’s important work to be done before that. And it’s going to take place in your heart and in your head.

Think about people who have left legacies that matter. People like Mother Teresa, C.S. Lewis, or Abraham Lincoln. These people were remembered for their actions, yes, but it was their thoughtfulness that compelled them to act.

• Mother Teresa will forever be remembered making a difference in the lives of the destitute on the streets of Calcutta. All because she was thoughtful enough to care about the people and love her Jesus.

• C.S. Lewis will never be forgotten because he spoke the truth of Christ into the lives of millions with poignant clarity. All because he was thoughtful enough to use his gifts in a way that people desperately needed.

• Abraham Lincoln will always be remembered because he brought the United States through a time of great crisis and abolished slavery along the way. All because he was thoughtful about his nation and his people.

Are you getting the picture?

To leave a legacy that matters, you need to be thoughtful about your actions.

Discover your spiritual gifts. Read an inspiring book. Pray to God. Open the Bible.

Whatever you do, just start being thoughtful. Start looking for your place in this world. The place you’re going to get some skin in the game.

You have to build a legacy before you can leave it behind. And you’ll have to be thoughtful to do it.

What legacy do you want to leave behind? How can you start working towards it?

Grayson Pope is a Christ-follower, husband, and father. He writes about finding your calling and discovering your purpose. Follow him on his blog and Twitter, and grab a FREE copy of his newest eBook here (no strings attached).

…but I pondered when my second wind would occur, if in fact, I had an opportunity at a second wind.

My life felt like it was over.
I didn’t want to live any longer.
I thought of ways I could commit suicide.

I remember watching a movie I cannot remember the name of one night back then and the subject was about a teenager’s contemplation of suicide. I related to his plight. The feelings he had I had too. The monsters in his head were familiar to me as well.

And so I watched the television screen with my full attention, becoming so engrossed in the drama that at times I felt like I was that guy. Quite unfortunately he attempted suicide and succeeded at it. I cried. I understood. I knew a little about the feelings he had and the voices that screamed in his head.

But then I saw the people he left. His parents. His family. His friends. These were the people who had to deal with his last action. These were the people left to pick up the pieces of their now shattered lives. Didn’t they notice the warning signs? Didn’t they see that he was desperately crying out for help? Didn’t they realize the struggles he was going through?

I wanted to scream at them as if they would hear me and exclaim: “Wake up, people! Look at this guy, no really look at him!! He needs your help! Don’t let him kill himself!!”

They didn’t see.
They didn’t listen.
They didn’t realize.

And in a moment he was gone.

As a result of viewing that movie it came crashing down on me that committing suicide would not only harm myself, but that act would harm others as well. Yet I couldn’t handle the pain. I wanted it to end. My cry became, “God, if you’re really there, then help me!!”

The words of that song I mentioned in Part 1 resonated time and again so deeply within –

You’re having a hard time and lately you don’t feel so good
You’re getting a bad reputation in your neighborhood

It’s not always easy to be living in this world of pain
You’re gonna be crashing into stone walls again and again

As I looked up at those stars that night, on my bed, in my room, I thought of God and how He feels about me. Despite the pain in my heart, He promised healing. Through strained dysfunctional family relationships, He became Father. Even though I didn’t know what to do with my life, He promised to lead me.

It was by no means a quick healing. I can’t say the next morning I saw rainbows and pretty horses, but that moment was my turning point. It was what I needed to begin the process of having hope. I recalled the events in that movie. I kept listening to that song over and over.

Don’t forget your second wind
Sooner or later you’ll feel that momentum kick in
Don’t forget your second wind
Sooner or later you’ll feel that momentum kick in

God eventually replaced my despair with the presence of Himself. But those stars, those many beautiful stars — in them were written what would happen to me in my future if I just held on –

a wedding day,
a birth of a little girl,
a college degree,
and so many other wonderful, beautiful, incredible things.

I don’t have a clue who’ll read this. I don’t know if anything good will occur upon its reading. But if I had any advice for that lonely, hurting soul, it would be this: lift your head, you’ve held it down long enough; look up to the sky and peer into a starry night. Know that somewhere contained in those stars are blessing and victory. And as you bring your head back down I pray that those hurting tears will be wiped away from your face and that your heavy heart will begin to dance again. Those stars promise a second wind.

Don’t forget your second wind. Don’t forget your second wind.

It will come. Be strong, dear one, in the waiting.

Image Purchased at Lightstock

Ms. Feinberg writes of her much-loved grandfather. This man in her life was a sort of bigger-than-life character. She calls him “Cactus Jack.”

Cactus Jack fully embraced life. He lived a life of purpose and meaning. He didn’t allow life to get the better of him. In fact, he got the better of life with his words and actions with his family and other people who had the privilege to know him. Cactus Jack didn’t stay on the sidelines of life. He went after what he wanted with gusto!

In some ways I wish I had just the tip of my pinky finger of what Cactus Jack possessed. Sometimes I feel stuck. Just stuck. Stuck in old, useless ways of thinking. Stuck in growing in my relationships. Stuck in the dead-end things of life.

I’m kind of tired of living in the sidelines of life. You know — watching other people pursue their dreams. Looking at what they dream about and make a reality. Hearing of stories of hopes coming true and dreams being realized.

And right before my very eyes I see opportunities pass me by. I see a better way of relating with my family, but I’m too lazy to do the work. I see the way I should be in raising my daughter, but I fail to take the initiative. I see that I need to grow spiritually, but I don’t take the risks that is necessary to take.

I’m afraid to truly live.
I like the safety of what I have now to become foolish enough to change it.
My prayers are too simple and not bold enough.

Too many of us play and pray it safe. We allow our aspirations to stay in our heads, our goals to remain barely outside our grasp. Life becomes a series of unrealized hopes and dreams. Rather than engage in the fullness of life, we remain on the sidelines and pass up uncounted opportunities. Our fears become greater than the hope of the One who came to bring us abundant life.

Feinberg, Margaret (2012-12-01). Wonderstruck (p. 168). Ingram Distribution. Kindle Edition.

Am I the only one who this describes? I propose that I’m not. We are a fearful lot. We like the safety of what we’ve built up to this point. We would rather be satisfied with our lives than venture out into the unknown.

“This is just too much of a risk!”
“What will people think of me?”
“How could I be so careless?!”

Maybe it’s time to get off the sidelines of life! Maybe it’s time to allow faith to usurp fear! Maybe we need to stop thinking about what’s impossible for us and start believing what is possible with God!

Ask yourself these questions: What is keeping me on the sidelines of life? What have I convinced myself is impossible with God? Where have I allowed fear to replace faith? What’s stopping me from moving forward? Or taking my first step toward change?

This post is a part of a weekly book discussion co-hosted by Duane Scott of Scribing the Journey and Shelly Miller of Redemption’s Beauty, respectively. Go to these blogs and check out the other submissions.

This time in my life was an incredibly difficult time.
I had forgotten over the years that it even happened.
But I feel that I need to revisit it again.

This hard time occurred after I graduated from high school.
It was after I attempted to attend a local community college.
It was after I had a brief stint in boot camp.

It was a time in which I felt bad about myself.
It was a time I didn’t see any hope for myself.
I wanted to free myself and others from the repugnance that was my life.

I just wanted to end it all.

I haven’t thought about that horrible time in my past that brought about tears in my eyes and shouting at God and questioning my existence on this earth. This horrible time lasted the span of 12 months.

I haven’t thought about in a while because honestly I want to forget about it. I want to pretend it never happened. I don’t want to relive it. But as I’ve contemplated the past couple of days the issue of suicide, both from the suicide of Matthew Warren and Frank Friedl’s recent post on the subject, the memories of that time can flooding back into my mind.

You see…I hated my life. I hated my lot in life at that time. I hated this cruel world.

A few months before these thoughts and feelings raged war within, I tried to run away. I wanted to run as far as I could to escape the pain. I didn’t want to face the monsters that harassed me. So I enlisted in the Marine Corps. If I had to run away from something and run toward something, why didn’t I choose something easy! But before I could become one of “the few, the proud, the Marines”, I had to go through boot camp.

Boot camp was hard, really, really hard. Between the very belittling feeling left because of the constant yelling of drill instructors, and the difficult physical training involved, and the early morning wake-up calls, boot camp was difficult, really, really difficult.

After repeated physical training and running drills, something snapped in my lower leg. A medical examination revealed it was a stress fracture.

I was forced to leave behind my buddies in our platoon.
I was sent to a special “medical” platoon for healing.
After eight weeks in that special platoon, and very little healing in my leg, I was deemed unworthy to become a Marine.

I failed in my feeble attempt to run away from my problems.
I was, in my mind, a total failure.

“The few” became “not me.”
“The proud” became “my shame”.
“The Marines” became “my disappointment.”

So on the bus back home I went. I carried back with me embarrassment for failing at boot camp. A couple of my traveling companions were Shame of what people would think of me and Fear of facing the monsters when I reached my destination.

In my deepest despair I felt alone, all alone. My high school friends were getting married, but I had no one I could call a friend. My high school friends were in college and were going in the direction of their dreams, but I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. My church friends were growing spiritually, but I was stagnant and dull in my relationship with God.

One particular evening I lay on my bed in deep despair. I looked up to the sky, with tears welling up in my eyes, from the window of my bedroom. I screamed at the God of the universe for making me a reject, a fool, an object of scorn.

I had heard a song on the radio a few times before. Its words were slowly seeping into my brain. The recording artist sang repeatedly,

Don’t forget your second wind
Sooner or later you’ll get your second wind
Don’t forget your second wind
Sooner or later you’ll get your second wind

But I pondered when my second wind would occur, if in fact, I had an opportunity at a second wind.

(to be continued)

Image Purchased at Lightstock

We all get our feelings hurt from time to time.
Words are said and things are done that wound us.
We may harbor feelings of bitterness towards the person who wounded us.

Admittedly, when someone doesn’t acknowledge me or leaves me out of something, I become bitter. I think, “How dare they not speak to me! What a jerk!” Of course, much of the time they didn’t even realize what they did or didn’t do.

But sometimes it goes deeper than that. Much deeper. I recall during my childhood words were spoken over me that made a place in my heart become wounded. It hurt. It still hurts. After repeated words were spoken and after that wounded place in my heart became scarred, I allowed bitterness and hatred to come out from within me in my words, in my thoughts, and in my actions.

Forgiving them for what they did to me and the way they made me feel? Well, that was never going to happen. I held on to my bitterness and refused to grant them forgiveness just to give them a taste of what it felt like to be wounded. What occurred instead was a strain in my relationship with them. Distance and hatred and rage became my close buddies.

When others hurt us, the wounds they leave behind are sometimes gaping, leaving us breathless in the aftermath; or sometimes the wounds are shallow, and we don’t realize the harm done until months later. However, when we don’t allow the healing power of forgiveness to mend our injuries, we give opportunity for the infection of bitterness to ulcerate.

Feinberg, Margaret (2012-12-01). Wonderstruck (p. 135). Ingram Distribution. Kindle Edition.

That’s what happened to me. I didn’t want to forgive. I became resentful. The sad fact was that I was harming myself. By not giving forgiveness to them I gave them power over me. I gave them power over my thoughts and my actions. More than likely they didn’t know what they said or did. Chances are they just didn’t care.

God calls us to forgive others for their wrongdoings. After all, Jesus forgave the people who harmed Him by nailing Him to the cross. Think about this: Jesus, in his pain and agony and darkness, forgave his torturers. Heck, I can’t even forgive someone when the sky is blue and the sun is shining! I found myself nodding in agreement to Ms. Feinberg when she wrote, “The hard truth I had to face was that unforgiveness ranks among those things for which I most need God’s forgiveness.”

As followers of Jesus, we’re commanded to forgive just as we’ve been forgiven. Indeed, Jesus says that God’s pardon of us is dependent on our forgiving others. God calls us to the life of forgiveness.

Feinberg, Margaret (2012-12-01). Wonderstruck (p. 136). Ingram Distribution. Kindle Edition.

Forgiveness is hard to dole out sometimes, isn’t it? We want to hold on to bitterness because we feel that we have some control over the situation. It’s our way of saying that we’ll continue to harbor resentment towards someone because they first hurt us. I’m finding out that by forgiving them I’m releasing their control over me. I’m acknowledging that, yes, they hurt me, but I forgive them for it. They may never know the level of hurt they caused, but by forgiving them for that hurt, our minds and our lives begin to heal.

Do you harbor bitterness toward someone who hurt you? What is a way that you can begin to release their control over your thoughts and emotions?

This post is a part of a weekly book discussion co-hosted by Duane Scott of Scribing the Journey and Shelly Miller of Redemption’s Beauty, respectively. Go to these blogs and check out the other submissions.

I wish we could handle fear like the kind of knob pictured above.

You know, to have the ability to turn fear off or at least turn it down a little. When a sticky situation arises, we could turn the fear knob down a bit to just get through a tough time. How about when we want to pursue a dream? We could turn our fear knob completely off to get what we’ve put so much effort and work into.

Yet life doesn’t always work that way, does it? We don’t have the capability to turn our fears on and off or up and down. We can’t control what comes up in our life or whether our dreams are either fulfilled or deferred.

There are two specific types of fear. The first type is beneficial and is to be encouraged. The second type is a detriment and is to be overcome. Having a little fear is good. Fear is a vital response to physical and emotional danger. If we didn’t feel fear, we couldn’t protect ourselves from legitimate threats.

But often we fear situations that are far from life-or-death, and we hang back for no good reason. Rather than move confidently ahead, we shrink back. Fear can keep us from becoming all that God intends for us to be.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

– 1 John 4:18

So let’s suppose we go back to the example of the fear knob. I propose that if indeed such a thing existed, and we could control it for our benefit, think of some of the things we could do with it.

• We want to change jobs for better pay and benefits. The interview is tomorrow morning. So we turn the fear knob down a little so we can walk into the interview room with confidence.
• Our child is walking into the direction of a hot object, be it a gas oven or a space heater or open flames. Quickly we turn the fear knob up to its highest setting to prevent any harm.
• We wish to pursue our dream — that one dream that God has instilled in us to do. Turn that knob down a bit to progress forward in fulfilling it.
• There’s danger up ahead! Maybe you’re on a highway and you see a potential accident that could occur, or you’re in the woods and a bear is coming toward your camp, turn the knob up so that your senses are heightened and you become more alert to avert harm.
• There’s the neighbor across the street or the co-worker at our place of employment or the friend we share coffee with who you know hasn’t met Jesus yet, just turn the fear knob down, and presto, you now have confidence to walk with them down the road to meet Him and forever change the trajectory of their life.

I think you see the pattern here. I’m not proposing that we try to cut out fear altogether. After all, we are imperfect creatures in an imperfect world.

Good fear comes in quite handy sometimes as you can see from the above scenarios. A certain dosage of fear can reduce the risk of accidents and can keep us on our toes, ready to pounce or flee.

Bad fear keeps us paralyzed and stuck in our fears. The time will eventually come when we’ll have to face our fears and not run away from them. We’ll have to choose whether to go through or run away. Don’t just stand still in terror, but take Jesus’ hand and go forward. Remember, fear torments and God wants to deliver us from all of our fears.

What are some of your bad fears? What are some of your good fears? What steps have you taken or will take to move past your bad fears?

This post is part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival hosted at Mari-Anna Stålnacke’s blog, Flowing Faith. Go there and read the other submissions on the word “fear”.

Image Purchased at Lightstock

I am a very guarded person.
I don’t talk a lot about myself.
I rarely let anyone get too close to me in relationships.

Being vulnerable with others is scary. What if they choose to let other people know what they found out about me? What if they start treating me differently? What if they change the way they think about me?

This fear of vulnerability also unfortunately prevents people from approaching me. I build an invisible wall to protect myself from them. I’m like a chameleon who changes his skin coloration at will. Whenever I feel someone is getting a bit too close, I quickly change colors to signal my intentions to “predators” that they aren’t allowed to come any further.

When I do this, however, I miss out on getting to know them or them to know me. Making an effort to gain and strengthen any resemblance to real community rarely happens. I find myself being alone and feeling alone a great amount of the time. Perhaps one of the reasons I shun community is because I’m an introvert. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think it is because I fear being hurt. I may have an example in my past in which I was misunderstood or left out or tossed aside. Maybe I’m suppressing the hurt and I don’t yet realize that I’m doing so.

But you know what? It’s not only people who I erect walls around me. I treat God the same way. In my mind I say, “Whoa!! Wait, hold on there! I’m not ready to deal with that character flaw now. You know that sin over there? Yeah, about that…I’ll stop doing that in a couple of weeks.”

Receiving the life God has for you requires vulnerability. God wants you to build a life without walls — one in which he is your protection — allowing you to live with arms wide open, where you can know and be fully known. Such a place doesn’t exist without moments of hurt, rejection, and misunderstanding, but in this posture, you lay hold of the wonder of friendship God intended all along.

Feinberg, Margaret (2012-12-01). Wonderstruck (p. 117). Ingram Distribution. Kindle Edition.

God knows everything about us. He knows the flaws, the imperfections, and the sins. He is intimately knowledgeable about our thoughts and our actions. In order to grow closer in our relationship with Him, we need to be honest. We will need to lay bare the deepest parts of ourselves before Him. If any growth in our lives is to be experienced, we’ll need to tear down the walls and start living a life without walls.

Without the safety of our walls we will feel naked and exposed. Our blemishes and scars will be clearly seen. The ugliness of our sins will be displayed. We will naturally want to run and take cover. After all, that’s what Adam and Eve did after they did something they weren’t supposed to do!

But God wants all of us, not just pieces and parts that we are willing to let go of at our convenience. Yeah, it’ll hurt. Those feelings of rejection will sting a bit. Those bandages of misunderstanding will show the scars underneath. But as we grow spiritually, bit by bit, we will heal. The scars may still be visible, but you will no longer feel its pain. We’ll begin to feel and know the wonder of friendship with God. Over time, we’ll begin to know that God not only loves us, but that He actually likes us!

What are you hiding from God or others? If there is one flaw or one imperfection or one sin which you hold to, are you willing to surrender it to God and allow Him to heal it?

This post is a part of a weekly book discussion co-hosted by Duane Scott of Scribing the Journey and Shelly Miller of Redemption’s Beauty, respectively. Go to these blogs and check out the other submissions.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget. Our memories sometimes are not to be trusted.

We may forget someone’s birthday or anniversary.
We may forget to pack our lunch.
We may forget an appointment.
We sometimes unfortunately forget how God brought us out of a dangerous situation or blessed us in some way when we needed it the most.

It is in those times of past victory or deliverance that we need to remember to trust by faith that God can deliver us again from a particular situation.

As the children of Israel were coming across the Jordan River, God told Joshua to,

“Choose twelve men from among the people, one from each tribe, and tell them to take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, from right where the priests are standing, and carry them over with you and put them down at the place where you stay tonight.”

– Joshua 4:2-3

WHY?

So that the people and the generations to come would remember the great miracle of their crossing the Jordan River on dry ground.

WHY REMEMBERING IS SO IMPORTANT

Memory plays an important role in anchoring our lives to their moorings. We draw our sense of purpose and stability from remembering how God has actively worked in and through our lives. When we remember where we have come from and how we got where we are, we maintain a proper perspective. We can make better sense of the present. The past also shows the trajectory of our lives and provides clues about where we might be headed.

Later in chapter four of the book of Joshua we see the twelve stones that came out the Jordan River being set up at the camp at Gilgal. The Israelites were to tell their descendants the meaning of the stones by saying that they had crossed the Jordan on dry ground because God dried up the Jordan until they had crossed over. God did this to show all the peoples of the earth that He is powerful and that they might always fear Him.

WHY NOT REMEMBERING CAN BE BAD

History tells us that tragically the Israelites, God’s chosen people, failed to remind their children of what God did at the Jordan River and in the conquest of the promised land.

Naturally their memories began to fade. Even the stones which were erected were forgotten by most of the people. Generation after generation never heard the miraculous story of the river crossing nor of the victories in battle so that they could have a place to live in peace and plenty. Pretty soon the Lord Himself was forgotten. The result?  In only a single generation, commitment to God disappeared, God’s commandments were tossed aside, and the moral fabric of the nation of Israel was slowly tearing apart.

What is the greatest display of God’s power on your behalf that you have experienced? How do you memorialize that event?