I just finished my long run, usually 10-12 miles, on a beautiful cool Fall morning in Nashville. And as I finished feeling great I said, “I’m a much better runner during my Fall runs because of the miserable sticky summer runs.” But as I considered the implications, I realized that’s not only applicable to my run, but also to the rest of my life. I can move faster in my business,  and in my relationships because of enduring and getting past troublesome spots, much like an endless run on a hot and humid southern morning. I can enjoy seasons of growth and harvest because of the lessons conditioning I learned through the rough days of just “plowing through” in life. In your business or personal life, what season are you in? How are you dealing with it?

Yesterday I spent the morning interviewing college kids for a video project my company is working on in partnership with Living a Better Story Foundation, Belmont University and Donald Miller, the author. It was a culmination of a 21-day program where Belmont’s Sophomore class attended Don’s lecture a few weeks back. At the end of the lecture, students received an envelope with either 5, 10 or 20 dollars. They were asked not to spend the money on themselves but to pray first and then seek to help someone else with the money by the end of 21 days. I honestly didn’t know what we were going to hear, but I certainly didn’t expect what I got. Interview after interview I heard stories of how prayer led to the realization that this “given” money was God’s. “But so is everything else I have,” said these students, “including what I thought was…

I’m sure I was smarter back at my college graduation days. Certainty was not a problem and I was prepared to take on the world. So I thought. But time has a way of teaching you lessons no one else can. So I’m a bit older and perhaps somewhat wiser, I hope. Here’s some of my certainties at age 22: Life is black or white. You’re either on the side of truth or not.  At 22 I saw a world with very few shades of gray. It was either right or wrong and ambiguity was the playground of the weak. God was precise and predicable. Somehow the God of my early twenties was more like a German engineer than an artist. He was like a machine with a defined pathway to action and subsequent reactions rather than a mysterious and yet gracious being who eludes being imprisoned by human intellect.…