Most Sundays we stand at church and proclaim together what we believe, our creed. Today on FB, I shared The Creed of Living Legends from Digital Evangelism, the kind of thing that states in simple, declarative sentences what to do to be who I should be. You know – inspiring.
But then I got to thinking and posted this challenge with it:
And then I got to thinking that my joking reference to my driving probably is closer to the mark than I’d like to think when it comes to what I believe.
What do I believe if I look at my own yesterday?
● I believe that if you’re going to have guests, the good china should come out.
● I believe that whether it’s time at a vacation house by a lake or just hanging out at my house, time with family is time well spent.
● I believe that my time is more important than anyone else’s, so give myself the freedom to be late while becoming impatient with you when you do the same.
● I believe that mayonnaise on a hoagie or sub is morally wrong.
● I believe that planning my future makes sense, but imagining it is virtually impossible.
● I believe that some things are better left unsaid.
● I believe that Star Trek in its many iterations is filled with engaging ways to grapple with the big questions.
● I believe that laughter matters.
● I believe that this side of heaven, driving a fast car on a sunny day is about as close as I’m going to get.
● I believe that the want of you in me is bigger than the need of me is in you.
● I believe that God listens – sometimes with amusement, sometimes with frustration, sometimes with down right “I’m done with this”, but listening God does.
● I believe that I am very lucky and that good fortune needs sharing.
● I believe I will be a better cello player merely by having the cello sit in my living room.
So, what about you? What did your yesterday say about what you believe?
But then I got to thinking and posted this challenge with it:
An exercise: tonight, review your day w/ paper and pen (no tablets for this one) -- then, based on what you did and did not do, what you said and did not say TODAY, write down YOUR creed . . . reflect on what you've written . . . our creed, you see, is not what we say we believe . . . it is what we do . . . thus, on a bad or frustrating day for me, my Creed would probably begin with "Be rude to other drivers for they surely deserve that honking horn for having the audacity to be in my way . . ."
And then I got to thinking that my joking reference to my driving probably is closer to the mark than I’d like to think when it comes to what I believe.
What do I believe if I look at my own yesterday?
● I believe that if you’re going to have guests, the good china should come out.
● I believe that whether it’s time at a vacation house by a lake or just hanging out at my house, time with family is time well spent.
● I believe that my time is more important than anyone else’s, so give myself the freedom to be late while becoming impatient with you when you do the same.
● I believe that mayonnaise on a hoagie or sub is morally wrong.
● I believe that planning my future makes sense, but imagining it is virtually impossible.
● I believe that some things are better left unsaid.
● I believe that Star Trek in its many iterations is filled with engaging ways to grapple with the big questions.
● I believe that laughter matters.
● I believe that this side of heaven, driving a fast car on a sunny day is about as close as I’m going to get.
● I believe that the want of you in me is bigger than the need of me is in you.
● I believe that God listens – sometimes with amusement, sometimes with frustration, sometimes with down right “I’m done with this”, but listening God does.
● I believe that I am very lucky and that good fortune needs sharing.
● I believe I will be a better cello player merely by having the cello sit in my living room.
So, what about you? What did your yesterday say about what you believe?
I'm going to write my own and learn a little about myself. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteCool!
DeleteI'm a little afraid to write my own. We'll see.
ReplyDelete:-) Be brave . . .
Delete