Can’t and won’t. Christians need to be very careful which one they choose. It seems that we prefer to use “can’t.”
“I just can’t get along with my wife.” “My husband and I can’t communicate.” “I can’t discipline the kids as I should.” “I just can’t give up the affair I’m having.” “I can’t stop overeating.” “I can’t find time to pray.”

When I was deep in the redwoods some time ago, I lay back and looked up. I mean really up. It was one of those clear summer nights when you could see forever. So starry it was scary. The vastness of the heavens eloquently told the glory of God. No words could adequately frame the awesomeness of that moment. One of my mentors used to say, “Wonder is involuntary praise.” That night, it happened to me.

In his November 11, 1942, report on the war to the British House of Commons, Winston Churchill referred to “the soft underbelly of the Axis.” While half the world was intimidated by the powerful blitzkrieg style of Nazi warfare, the perceptive prime minister focused on the other side—the hidden side: the insecurity, the lack of character, the insanity behind the public image of the German dictator. Adolf Hitler may have seemed strong to his adoring public and the goosestepping soldiers who proudly wore their führer’s swastika. But the pudgy, cigar-smoking resident of 10 Downing Street was neither impressed nor frightened.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” If I heard that once, I heard it a hundred times while I was growing up. I was young and impatient, anxious to reach the goals I felt were important. But there was always this irksome reminder that good things take time and great things take even longer.

Painful though it may be for us to admit it here in this great land of America, we’re losing touch with one another. The motivation to help, to encourage, yes, to serve our fellow-man is waning. People have observed a crime in progress but refused to help so as not to be involved. Even our foundational values are getting lost in these confusing days. And yet, it is these things that form the essentials of a happy and fulfilled life.

Sleep came hard for me last night. Earlier that evening, Cynthia and I had read together a letter from our long-time friend Wally Norling, who had just returned from the bedside of Betty, his “loving partner in life for forty-two years.” Betty is dying of cancer of the liver, and Wally’s letter, written in the midst of that, was a gracious, understated masterpiece of faith.

Yourself. Yourself. Yourself. We’re up to here with self! How very different from Jesus’ model and message! Instead of a “philosophy” to turn our eyes inward, He offers a fresh and much-needed invitation to our “me first” generation. There is a better way, Jesus says. “Be a servant. Give to others!”