Well, it's summer. Time to make a mad dash for the pool or at least a tall, frosty glass of iced tea. But while you're swimming or sipping, think about helping. Yeah, helping. Think about being of assistance.
Well, it's summer. Time to make a mad dash for the pool or at least a tall, frosty glass of iced tea. But while you're swimming or sipping, think about helping. Yeah, helping.
Think about being of assistance . . . your arm around the hunched shoulders of another . . . your smile saying "try again" to someone who's convinced it's curtains . . . your cup of cool water held up to a brother's cracked lips, reassuring and reaffirming.
Every time I pick up my pen, the thought of helping urges me to push ink into words.
There are enough—more than enough—specialists in body blocks, pass defenses, and tackling. There are more than enough causing fumbles, bruises, and injuries. I'd much rather run interference. I'd much rather slap someone on the back and say, "You can do it. Now git at it!"
I wholeheartedly agree with Philip Yancey, a man who models his own advice: "C. S. Lewis once likened his role as a Christian writer to an adjective humbly striving to point others to the Noun of truth. For people to believe that Noun, we Christian writers must improve our adjectives."
Whether in the sweltering heat of summer or the bitter blast of winter, I'd like to think that some carefully selected turn of a phrase, some pointed story, even the choice of a single word I used might reach out with a grip of fresh hope.
It's all part of helping folks. For, as His Word mandates: "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds" (Heb. 10:23–24).
Attractive adjectives plus unselfish verbs equal faith in the Noun of truth.