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One tool I think God uses to develop kindness in our character is to sometimes bring irritable, grumpy people into our lives as a mirror to show us our own crabby nature. At the same time, he'll round off our rough edges by having kind people cross our path to show us who we could become. I have a story that illustrates the point in today's episode. I'm pretty sure you're going to like this one. But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 233 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about enriching our lives by reflecting the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. Irritations that started the day It was a hot, hot July afternoon when I went to a doctor's appointment  on the other side of town. In 2017 I was diagnosed with sleep apnea, and once a year I'm supposed to see my sleep doctor so he can evaluate the data recorded on my CPAP machine and make any changes to the settings if needed. Nothing ever changes when I've seen him in the past, so these appointments seem like a waste of time to me. It's why I pushed my annual visit back to three years. I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed the morning of my appointment. There were lots of things I wanted to get done, and this doctor's appointment was a minor and annoying interruption to my plans for the day. Added to this is the fact I don't do well in the extreme July heat, so I was especially grumpy. My friends in Arizona tell me that in their summer heat they can get grumpy too, but it's a dry kind of grumpiness, so it's more bearable. Also, if it weren't for my tall height, I would be an ideal character out of Central Casting for the role of Grumpy in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. As I opened the door of the medical building of my doctor's office I wished I had worn my parka. It was that cold. It was something else to be irritated about. You could have hung sides of beef in the hallway. But something changed when I checked in with the receptionist.  A smile and a cup of water She was a pleasant woman in her early 50s with blond hair. dressed in blue scrubs. She greeted me with a wide smile and offered me a styrofoam cup of cold water with a straw stuck through its lid. I appreciated her kindness, but declined her offer. It occurred to me that the water could easily turn to ice while waiting for the doctor, and then what was I going to do with a cup of ice in my hand? I sat down in the waiting room and noticed my spirits gradually started to lift. Within a few minutes the receptionist came out from behind her desk, and with that same pleasing smile said, "Please follow me. The doctor is ready to see you now. And how are you doing today, by the way? Is it still so hot out there?" Her soft demeanor made me forget the heat outside and the cold inside. It calmed my heart to be attended to by someone clothed in kindness, like the Bible talks about in the Book of Colossians.  The doctor himself exuded kindness. He told me the numbers on my CPAP machine were great and no adjustments were needed. "Keep doing what you are doing and I'll see you in a year."  Yeah, I like this guy. He's so calm and mild -mannered. He seems to enjoy what he's doing, so I will be back. He showed me the way back to the waiting room, and as I passed the receptionist's desk she once again offered me that same styrofoam cup of water.  "Are you sure you don't want to take it with you? It's important to stay hydrated in weather like this. " Kindness received I paused for a moment, still not thirsty, then said, "Sure. Thank you. I will take it with me."  I did so because I thought it would brighten her day. Her eyes widened as did her smile. "Good choice," she said. I almost replied with, "Thanks. Mom." Her kindness brought out the best in me at that moment. We exchanged smiles when I noticed her gold cross jewelry around her neck. Hmm. I wondered it there was a connection between her kindness and her necklace, but I let it go. I need to be more like her, I thought. Life is too short to be as irritable as I was. Give people a styrofoam cup of water with a plastic straw through the lid. It will make both you and them feel good. Simple acts of kindness do that, you know. Surprised at how good I now felt, I left for home, but stopped at Chick-fil-A on the way. That's when everything changed again. As I pulled into the drive-thru lane I was met by a woman in her mid-twenties, decked out in company-issue red shirt and gray slacks to take my order. Clearly irritated about something, her disposition was worse than my mood that started my day. No smile, impatient with my order, eyes rolling, gruff voice. Next to the word "grumpy" in the dictionary is her photo. In her defense though, it was blazing hot, even in the shade next to the drive-thru lane. But still, I felt like I should have apologized for being her customer. It was not her pleasure to take my order, that's for sure. An embarrassing realization Her mood turned the clock back to my own crabby temperament earlier in the day. The kindness I just experienced from the receptionist  at the doctor's office was a distant memory. Her irritability was a curtain call that invited my pwn crabbiness to return for a final bow. What gives, I thought on my way home? This woman was so unlike every other experience I've had at Chick-fil-A. Then it struck me. Earlier in the day I was just like that crabby order taker. My irritable mood at the time had the potential to put others in a bad mood like herd did for me. I was creating relational climate change that adversely affects others.It was an inconvenient truth I had to face. Then I thought, "I wonder if this irritable Chick-fil-A order taker was really an angel sent by God to gently teach me about the effect my disposition has on others. It seemed as if God was holding her up as a mirror to show me how my grouchy mood could bother people, while at the same time showing me how I can improve the relational climate for people around me by extending simple acts of kindness as the receptionist did at the doctor's office. Pretty wise of God, I thought. I got his message. What does all this mean for YOU?  What about you? I wonder if you're seeing any angels acting as a mirror to help you become more like the person he created you to be Closing Well, that's it for today., I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show, to make the world a better place by showing a little kindness every now and then. For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of being the person you were created to be, a person who reflects the kindness of God. You Were Made for this, you know. Finally, as I often say at the end of each show, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Prior recent episode 332: Who Can I Trust? All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

Knowing who to trust for help in making it through life can be hard to determine at times. We've all been lied to or given inaccurate information at one time or another, especially when it comes to making important decisions. Today's episode takes a look at two options to consider when asking ourselves, who can I trust?   But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 232 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about enriching our lives by reflecting the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. A lingering question from the last episode In the most recent episode of this podcast, I talked about catching a glimpse of heaven at my grandson's recent graduation from law school. Click here if you missed it. One issue I didn't mention in that episode was the process grandson George went through deciding if he should even go to law school in the first place. He graduated with honors with a degree in business from a local university, and there were a number of careers within that field that interested him. But like a scab on your arm you can't stop picking, the thought of, maybe I should become a lawyer. I think I would like that kept surfacing. He talked to a few lawyers and business people who work with lawyers to get their opinion on the legal profession.  "Don't do it, George. There's a surplus of lawyers." "We have lawyers in our firm doing paralegal work because there isn't enough business for them to work on." "Law school is really hard and competitive. And it's expensive. It's even hard to get into. Are you sure you want to do that?" The best advice though,  came from an attorney with a solo practice who said,  "The only reason you should go to law school and become a lawyer is if you feel God is calling you to do it. Nothing else matters." Different voices. Different answers. For George, the answer to the who can I trust question came from looking outside of himself. To seek what God wanted him to do. He put his trust in God. Kindergarten requires something different During George's graduation ceremony I couldn't help comparing this event to his very first graduation decades before. I was there for that one, too.  Unlike the quiet orderliness of the law school graduates marching across the  stage, his graduation from kindergarten was just the opposite. 15-20 of his classmates scurried randomly to the corner of their classroom. Girls giggling and boys laughing as they poked each other in the arm. They assembled in 3 rows so parents and grandparents could take a group photo. No diploma. No cap and gown. And no processional music. Once assembled, the teacher said a few congratulatory words, which I don't recall. What I do remember is how the teacher choked up and was visibly moved in having to say goodbye to these little boys and girls, knowing they would no longer be part of her life. While this was an end and the start of a new chapter for the kids as 1st graders in a few months, it was just an end for her. It was all quite touching. No tears were shed, however, by the law school dean or professors at that graduation ceremony. A lifelong question: Who can I trust? As dissimilar as the two graduations were, they both illustrate the issue of who can I  trust. To graduate from law school. For example, you have to trust in yourself.  There are hoops you have to jump through alone. You must first earn a bachelor's degree. Then pass the law school entrance exam, the LSAT. And of course, pass all the classes required in order to graduate. It's all on you. No one can do it for you. Helicopter parents are grounded for this one.  To graduate from kindergarten is another matter. As a 5- or 6-year-old, everyone gets into kindergarten sooner or later. And no one flunks unless they are not developmentally not ready to move on to first grade.  Unlike law school, though, to make it through kindergarten, a 5 or 6-year-old is doomed if they only trust in themself.  They need to trust their teacher and their parents. When the teacher says "walk don't run," they have to trust their teacher is looking out for their best interests. When there's a fire alarm drill, the kids trust the teacher will lead them to safety.  To graduate from kindergarten, you need to trust in an authority outside of yourself. To graduate from law school, you must trust in yourself. What law school and Kindergarten model for us Who or what we place our trust in also applies to our view of what happens to us when we die. Specifically, how we get into heaven if we believe in life beyond the grave. One approach is to trust only in yourself, like a law school student.  The other is to trust in an authority outside of yourself. An authority like Jesus. We once had a next-door neighbor, a kind and pleasant man who died. There was no funeral because he did not believe there was any form of life after this one ended here on earth. He trusted in his own judgment about this matter, and that those who believed in heaven and hell were wrong. I wonder if he ever considered there was a chance he might be wrong and others were right. Then what? A distant relative in our extended family also placed his trust in himself, and no one else, for how to live. At his funeral his family played that famous Frank Sinatra song, My Way, with the refrain, "I did it my way."  I wonder what Jesus thought about this musical selection. What kind of funeral of you want? I also wonder what kind of funeral you would like for yourself. Would you prefer one that's more like a law school graduation, where you are praised for trusting in yourself for what you accomplished in life. Or would you like one that had elements of a kindergarten graduation where stories are shared of how you trusted Jesus in living life? Where you did it his way, and not your way. For me, I'd rather my funeral be more like a graduation from Kindergarten. Instead of Frank Sinatra singing from a family member's playlist, I'd like  a few friends singing "Pomp and Circumstance," as we often hear at commencement ceremonies. If you'd like to audition for such a role, let me know of your interest in the "leave a comment" box in the show notes. Closing As we close up shop for today, I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show to consider who you trust for guidance and wisdom in living life well. Who do you trust in forming the values important to you? Who do you trust for the truth about what happens to you after you die. You and I were made to consider these things every now and then. Well, that's it for today. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions to today's episode. Just go to the show notes for today's program at JohnCertalic.com, then scroll down to the end to the "Leave a comment" box. Finally, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Most recent prior episodes 231: A Glimpse of Heaven 230: A Delightful Conversation Fueled by Silence   All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

The last place on earth I ever thought I'd catch a glimpse of heaven would be at a graduation ceremony. But that is exactly what I experienced recently. Once you hear my story I'm hoping you'll be on the lookout for your own glimpse of heaven. They're more common than we realize. But before I begin, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 231 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about enriching our lives by reflecting the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. My story revolves around the recent graduation of my grandson, George. I attended his previous graduations, from kindergarten, elementary school, high school, college and now law school.. And I'm eager to tell you about it because I spotted a glimpse of heaven at his latest one. An image problem As long as I can remember, the legal profession George is entering has had an image problem. We make fun of personal injury lawyers, calling them "ambulance chasers" with large, cheesy billboards advertising their services.  We have disparaging jokes about lawyers that call into question the honesty and integrity  of attorneys. Here are a few: What's the difference between a lawyer and a used-car salesman? The used-car salesman knows when he's lying A lawyer and an honest man are standing side by side. How can you tell which is which? The honest man doesn't bill you for standing there. How does an attorney sleep? First, he lies on one side, then he lies on the other. We don't have jokes like this about other professions. When was the last time you heard a joke about a dentist, accountant, or welder, or countless other careers? A different perspective Yet at our grandson's law school graduation, I experienced a different take on the profession from the speeches that were given. They each had an element of a pep talk to the graduates.. One spoke of the privilege and responsibility of helping clients find justice when wronged. Another talked about the importance of defending the principles - and brilliance - of the US Constitution. To continue to uphold and champion what our founding fathers crafted hundreds of years ago. Still another speech sang the praises of the legal profession's long-standing tradition of lawyers doing pro bono work for people with limited resources to pay for legal help. "Pro bono" is short for the Latin phrase pro bono publico, meaning "for the public good." I'm not aware of other professions offering their services at no cost for the public good. Funeral directors, hair stylists, or food truck operators don't do it, but the legal profession does.   The thread that tied all these speeches together was something along the lines of, Graduates, you are entering a noble profession. You are part of history and are taking on a role that helps make the world a better place. Congratulations for making this life choice. But as inspiring as all these speeches were, the one that gave me a little glimpse of heaven were the remarks given by the graduate picked by his classmates to represent them and their perspective on this most important event in their lives. The class representative speaks He spoke about the difficulty of making it through law school, of the sacrifices he and his classmates made to accomplish this goal. Family events that were missed in order to study for exams or complete projects. Time away from friends was all part of the cost The competition for good grades and the best job offers. All hard stuff. .But he also recounted a number of inside stories that made his classmates laugh. His reference to an obscure legal case they all studied from the 18th century about who owned a dead fox, written in the most obtuse legal language imaginable from another century drew the largest laugh. An inside joke they all appreciated. The tone of his remarks was,  It's ben much harder than we ever imagined when we started. We often wondered if we were going to make it. But in the midst of all our difficult challenges, there were also moments of joy. Largely because we did it together. We bonded in community with one another. Adversity and challenges brought us together, and, you know, it was worth it. It really was. When her finished, you could feel a giant collective exhale in the auditorium. Law school mirrors life for the rest of us The brief remarks of this graduate gave me another glimpse of heaven. What he said about law school is certainly true about life for all of us. Life here on earth has been hard in different ways for each of us. Sin entering the world in the Garden of Eden so long ago has made it so. But for those of us who one day arrive in heaven, we will look back at our life, acknowledging the difficulties and challenges, but at the same time grateful for the joy we experienced. And some of us will laugh at some of what we've been through. I know I will. I can't imagine a heaven without laughter. Can you? When the speeches concluded, the graduates, all sitting together, marched up to the stage one row at a time, to hear their name announced and to receive their diploma. I sat in a section close to the front and directly across the aisle where the graduates sat waiting their turn. It was at this point in the ceremony that I caught still another glimpse of heaven. Cheering for the accomplishments of others is a glimpse of heaven For as each name was called you could hear the applause from friends and family scattered throughout the auditorium. That was certainly expected. But what I didn't expect was to see and hear applause from the graduates themselves seated and waiting their turn, for their classmates as they walked across the stage. It was loud and uniform. I don't recall ever hearing that at other graduationsI've attended.  Cheering for those they competed with for good grades and the best job offers. Robust clapping for the number one student in their class, to last in the class of 185. You couldn't tell the difference. The camaraderie was quite touching and reminded me of the verse in the Bible (Hebrews 12:1) that says Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight... and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. We don't know for sure, but I can't help but think there are people we knew who are now in heaven, who are cheering us on in the midst of our challenges and accomplishments. This is cCertainly this is true of Jesus. He is our biggest cheerleader of all. Friendships formed Listening to names as they were read and the applause that followed for each one, reminded me of the stories George told of the friendships that developed over his last three years of law school. Almost all of them were older than him. There was a great deal of diversity. Half the graduates were from out of state. About half of them were women. All from different strata of society. There was Spencer. An African American from Georgia whom George called his best friend. One day, George noticed he was wearing a pair of $10,000 Nike shoes.  Apparently there is a market for exotic athletic shoes that's unknown to most of us. For some reason I still don't understand, George knew the value of Spencer's shoes and used it to begin a relationship with him. Then there was Nick, who by now already had two careers under his belt, one as a fa firefighter and another as a social worker. While most other graduates were taking a couple of months off before they started their first job as an attorney, Nick started his law career a few days after graduation because he had a wife and three kids to support. Another of George's favorite friendships developed with Olivia, a spitfire with a sharp legal mind who is half as tall as George. He told our family several stories of oral arguments she and George teamed up together for class assignments. They were always quite entertaining.  So many different people that  George spent time with over the past three years gave me a glimpse of heaven because there are going to be so many people there who are different from me. I think I need to learn to enjoy more people not like me here on earth. I need the practice. A post-graduation reflection As we close for today, my final glimpse of heaven from this graduation ceremony happened early the following week when I read something George posted on LinkedIn. It was a photo of his water bottle next to a legal textbook with the following comment directed to his law school classmates: If you have a keen eye, you may have noticed that over the past three years, I've had one sticker on my water bottle: He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. Proverbs 107:29. Admittedly, at times, I've desperately needed that physical reminder. From waiting for my first final to start, hands shaking, to moments before delivering my final oral argument in front of a federal district court judge. Each new looming wave of law school often felt loud. Sometimes insurmountable. But as I walked across the stage this past Saturday, officially graduating from Marquette University Law School, that quote immediately came to mind.  And I was met with a familiar, inexplicable sense of peace. A quiet that, looking back, has always managed to find me. Wave after wave after wave. Those of us who are followers of Jesus I suspect are going to feel this same way a few days after we die and settle into our new heavenly home.  God will have stilled the loudness of the storms of life to a whisper, and we too, like George, will experience an inexplicable sense of peace and quiet. He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed.      Proverbs 107:29. Thanks for listening in today, and I'll see you again next time. Good bye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast? 021: The Most Important Relatio

It's counterintuitive, I know, but delightful conversations are often fueled by the magic of silence interjected at strategic moments. I've got an example of this in today's episode. I'm pretty sure you're going to like this one. It involves a delightful conversation I recently had with a charming four-year -old child. But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 230 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about enriching our lives by reflecting the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. I'm back It's been five months since you last heard from me in episode 229 entitled "Thankful for Encouraging People." In that episode I mentioned I needed to take a break to catch up on a few things, and that I'd be having shoulder replacement surgery, followed by months of physical therapy. The surgery went well. I can now shake hands with people, type on a keyboard, and warm my coffee up in our microwave. I'm also nearing the end of my tiPT appointments. So it's good to be back behind the microphone talking to you. I'll start with this first episode back by sharing a delightful conversation I had with a four-year-old girl that makes me smile whenever it comes to mind. I'm pretty sure  It's going to make you smile, too, as well as remind you of an important listening principle that can help deepen your relationships. A visit from a mom and her two young children This delightful conversation I've mentioned took place when a friend of ours came to our house to spend some girl time with my wife Janet. She came with two of her kids, a toddler, and his four-year-old sister, who I will call Emily. It's not her real name, but I've always liked the sound of Emily. If Janet and I  would have had another daughter l would have liked to have named her Emily. It's a perfectly symmetrical name. Three vowels separated by two consonants. And it's such a soft and gentle-sounding name. I happened to be home at the time our mom friend arrived, and I thought it might be helpful if I would entertain the kids so Janet and our young mom friend could chat without distraction. So while Janet and Mom talked away in our dining area, I occupied the kids around a large square coffee table in our living room. We don't have a large house, but it is open, and Mom could see her kids and me in the next room. Unfortunately, it had been years since we last had toys for small children in our house. Our grandkids are now in their 20s and we got rid of the toys we used to have in the house for them. However, we did have a basket full of toys for our cat, Father Patrick O'Malley.  Cat toys come in handy I've mentioned  Father Patrick before in several episodes, so I won't say anything more about him here. Except that he's a great cat, and that if we ever get another cat, and it's a female, I should like to name her Emily - Sister Emily. Sister Emily Frances to be exact. Anyway, the cat toys did the job in amusing little brother, but Emily grew tired of them pretty quickly. At that point, I remembered one large picture  book we had for kids, and got that out and started reading it to her. I got about two-thirds of the way through the book when boredom set in for little Emily. The book just wasn't cutting it for her.  Emily tried re-engaging with the cat toys, which were still holding the attention of little brother. But nothing captured her imagination. Emily glanced over at Mom, deep in a meaningful conversation with Janet, and must have realized they weren't going to be leaving for home anytime soon. I sat on our couch watching this cutest little four-year-old trying to solve her boredom problem when she walked over to get closer to me.   Looking for a solution to boredom Choosing her words very carefully, and while looking around the room, Emily softly  and deliberately asked, "Do you have a TV?" I knew where this conversation was headed, but I became curious to see how we were going to get there. My natural inclination would be to answer her question with something like, "Of course, would you like to watch something on TV? Let me ask your mom first to see  if that would be okay with her." But something inside of me said to hold back. Something larger is about to take place. Most four-year olds when they get bored will let you know it in no uncertain terms with their body language. They'll look frustrated, beg Mom to leave, and otherwise whine about their current state. I've seen it hundreds of times, and I know you have, too. But Emily was different. No whining, complaining, or pouting. Instead, she came up with a possible solution to her boredom problem in a way that it would look like it was my idea, rather than hers.   Do you have a TV? But instead of grabbing the bait at the end of the line she was throwing me, I did something different. I paused for several moments and simply said,  "Yes."  That's all I said, and waited for her to respond. After several more moments of silence, this little girl turned her head every way you could turn it, looking for a TV in the room we were in. Not seeing one, she asked a follow-up question. "Where is it?"  I began smiling internally, thinking I'm enjoying our lovely little conversation maybe more than I should be. Strategic silence I paused for a few strategic seconds of silence before pointing to a bedroom on the east side of our house that she could not see, and said, "We keep it in a room over there." While eagerly waiting for what she was going to say next. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, crafting a response that would lead to getting what she wanted. After a pause longer than normal, she finally asked me a second follow-up question, "Do you ever watch programs on it?" It was all I could do not to burst out in laughter. But after a few more moments of silence Responded with just two words. "I do." By now I knew it was time to bring this delightful conversation to a close and bite on the bait Emily was using to lure me in. I was about to ask her if she wanted me to find a program for her to watch on our TV when I heard a stirring in the next room. Mom and Janet began standing up from the table, signaling that Emily, Mom , and brother would soon be leaving. Three observations from this delightful conversation First off, I realized you can't rely on cat toys to entertain small children. We are becoming friends with much younger people at our new church and we need to stock up on a few toys for when they visit us with their kids. A second conversation observation is that it's clear to me that Emily has been parented well. While her interaction with me may be in part because of her personality, it seems to me that the relational skills she demonstrated were the product of what she learned from her parents. Partly by instruction, I suspect, but largely by example. Her parents deserve a lot of credit for teaching her how to relate with adults. Especially in this day and age when parenting is so much harder than when Janet and I were raising our kids. So many more challenges than decades ago. Finally, my conversation with Emily would have been much less interesting if I had filled the long pauses in our interaction with words. Silence after my one-word answers to her questions gave her space to think and to ask follow-up questions. As adults, we could all experience deeper, more meaningful conversations if we allowed for periods of silence. It not only creates room for people to ask  meaningful follow-up questions, but it also gives people permission to let their thoughts more fully develop. What made this conversation so delightful The world that children like Emily live in certainly has it challenges. But it's not tarnished with what adults face day in and day out. There's an innocence about children that draws adults back to a simpler time when life was less stressful. It's good to savor the beauty of childlike innocence from time to time. It calms the soul. Another thing that was delightful was watching this four-year-old develop relational muscle in solving a problem. In this case, her problem was boredom. But she was too shy to simply ask, "Can I watch something on your TV?" Instead, she asked me a question (do you have a TV?) that she hoped would lead down the path of me coming up with a solution to her problem, all the while thinking it was my idea and not hers. But I didn't make it easy on her. It was wonderful to see how she asked follow-up questions to my one-word answers.   Emily was so charming. It brings a smile to my face when I think of our brief interaction. Her parents have been blessed with a rare gem. It will be interesting to see how her inherent people skills grow as she matures. Imagining the future It lifted my spirits to imagine what this four-year-old will be like in another 35-40 years. Her relational intelligence even at this early stage of her life will give her a head start in dealing with the relational encounters she will have in years to come. It also made me think of ways I could get what I wanted by being more charming and winsome like Emily. Advance my idea by creating an environment where someone else thinks it's their idea. Go slower, be more patient with people. Be gentle with them. Yeah, that's what I learned from this four-year-old that morning a few weeks ago. So what does this delightful conversation mean for YOU?  The scriptures tell us we are all made in the image and likeness of God. We were made to relate to people in ways that reflect God's character. And one aspect of God's character is that he is sometimes silent in relating to us. Not out of indifference to us, or displeasure with us. No, it's just the opposite.  He is sometimes silent to draw out the best in us. To develop our character, to teach us new skills, to help us become the best version of ourselves. And we can do the same thing for other people (e

With Thanksgiving Day just around the corner here in the US, I've been thinking about how grateful I am for the encouraging people I see all around me. People who encourage me by their thoughtfulness towards me, and also towards others. I've got some examples for you in today's show that I think will encourage you.  But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 229 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about enriching our lives by reflecting upon the relational moments of everyday life that reflect the character, image, and likeness of God. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. Thankful in New York City I'll start with an encouraging quote I came across the other day from a Substack email I got from Garrison Keillor. Now in his early 80s and having moved to New York City from his beloved St. Paul, Minnesota,  Keillor still writes and travels the country putting on truncated versions of his wildly popular A Prairie Home Companion. He writes in his email: Old age is the age of gratitude, when I come to appreciate the beautiful details in life such as Lenny our doorman in New York who says, "Taxi?" as I come across the lobby pushing a suitcase and when I say, "Please," he hustles out into the street and lets fly with a classic two-finger whistle like the shriek of a predator and a taxi makes a swift U-turn and pulls up and Lenny grabs the bag and throws it in the trunk. How encouraging it is to hear someone say, Old age is the age of gratitude, when I come to appreciate the beautiful details in life. I think I should like to live in an apartment building that has a doorman. Maybe even be the doorman who worked second shift in exchange for reduced rent. And maybe wear a classy uniform and get tips from wealthy tenants. Thankful for kind people Actually, I once was the caretaker of an upscale apartment building when we were first married, living in what used to be the servant's studio apartment in exchange for reduced rent. I didn't have a uniform, but I did get a few tips. Like the time Mrs. Rourke gave me a tip for changing a light bulb in her floor lamp. And Mr. Reynolds used to tip me for taking his golf clubs down to the Greyhound bus station to be shipped to Florida just before he and Mrs. Reynolds headed South for the winter. So I do have the experience, which I will have to remember to include in my resume. Thankful for feedback from our podcast listeners While Garrison Keillor was encouraged by Lenny, his doorman, there are encouraging people in my life, particularly the listeners to this podcast. For example, last month a listener from Ohio wrote to me and said,  I just want you to know how much I enjoyed your podcast where the girl was searching for her biological father. Have to listen to it again. [She's referring to episode 169 from several years ago: "A Daughter's Feel-Good Story About Her Father"] Your podcasts are so refreshing, John…and you have a very soothing voice. A break from other podcasts for sure. Though they are interesting and beneficial.      ~ M.G. Then there is the encouraging person serving as a missionary in Ecuador  who responded to the article I wrote recently, "Ask Questions Like Jesus Did." He wrote,  This blog post is very thought-provoking and reminds me of what a master conversationalist Jesus was. Every word counted for something. It definitely was not filler with Jesus. God bless you, John.         _ N.F. An Interesting Bible study format Among the other encouraging people in my life is another podcast listener who is from Wisconsin who wrote I wrote about asking questions like Jesus did. She responded with this: I love this article you wrote about the questions Jesus asks.  Next semester, I am planning to have my Bible study group do a study on "the questions Jesus asked." I'm planning on having everyone in the group pick a question Jesus asked and lead a Bible study about that question. I love to get everyone in our group involved by leading a study.  There are so many questions Jesus asked and he has so much to teach us in each question. I thought it would give everyone a chance to pick a question that caught their attention in some way spoke to them.  I might just share your blog post with my group as a way of introducing this idea!  Thanks for expanding my thoughts! ~ K.P. What a great idea for a bible study. I wish I could be a fly on the wall for this one. Two responses to "Ask Thoughtful Questions Before It's Too Late" Moving on, two other encouraging people wrote to tell me about how an article I wrote the end of last month impacted them. This was the one entitled "Ask Thoughtful Questions Before It's Too Late" The first one is from a listener from Iowa who wrote: I wish my grandpa was still alive! I would have liked to hear more about his childhood. He was so grouchy, but also kindhearted. And he became much nicer as I got into high school and beyond.  I would like to know what made him act so grouchy when I was a kid. Maybe he hated his job? Or maybe he was just not great with kids? One day we will meet again, and hopefully I will hear more of his story.  Maybe we should all write a memoir called "What made me so grouchy?" (I am currently working on figuring that out for myself!)         ~ - J.B. Finally, the last encouraging response I received to the "Ask Thoughtful Questions Before It's Too late" blog post comes from a listener in Arizona who writes, Dear John, I have appreciated your columns so much, and the topics you focus on. This one is especially meaningful, and I'm so glad you included it. Grateful for your ministry, ~ L.G I'm intrigued by this listener's comment and was struck by the use of the word "so."It's used twice, once as an adjective and once as an adverb, as in "so much" and "So glad." And then "especially", as in "especially Meaningful." Apparently the "Ask Questions Before It's Too Late" struck a nerve with this listener. I wonder what the backstory is to their comment. It appears to be something they felt deeply. Hmmm. How encouraging people affect us All of these comments from listeners have made me think about WHY I am thankful for encouraging people and why you will most likely be grateful for them, too. A couple of thoughts come to mind. Encouraging people stand in stark contrast to the abundant supply of people who lack an emotional response to most things. They are also so different than the grumpy people among us that J.B. from Iowa who mentioned her grandfather. Encouraging people are a joy to be around. Negative, joyless people are discouraging to be with. Encouraging people think about others besides themself. They want the best for someone. They share what they observe that's positive in the life of another. Encouraging people express how another person has impacted them in a positive way.  They motivate others to be the person God created them to be. Encouraging people inspire confidence in others to keep doing what they're doing. They remind others of how they are making a difference in the world. Encouraging people lift our spirits and sometimes surprise us with their positive perception of things they see in us, that we might have difficulty seeing in ourselves. And finally, encouraging people remind us that we can be encouraging to others, too. We can be a source of encouragement, and not just a recipient of it.  I am thankful for this, and I hope you are, too. Closing As we close up shop for today, I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show, to be thankful for the encouraging people in you life, and to consider how you could be an encouragement to someone else.  Well, that's it for today. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions to today's episode. Just go to the show notes for today's program at JohnCertalic.com, then scroll down to the end to the "Leave a comment" box. Finally, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. Encourage them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 169: A Daughter's Feel-Good Story About Her Father   Ask Questions Like Jesus Did Ask Thoughtful Questions Before It's Too Late Prior recent episode 228: Beyond the Landscape - The Beauty I Saw In Ireland   All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

Beauty is more than scenery My wife and I recently returned from a vacation trip to Ireland. We saw the same things people typically see when they visit the Emerald Isle. The museums, the pubs, the walking tours led by local guides. And those sheep; all those sheep. Then, of course, there was the rich beauty of the green rolling hills, and the breathtaking rugged cliffs that border the Atlantic Ocean and Irish Sea. But I also saw a different kind of beauty, the beauty of relationships as people reflected the character and image of God. This is what I will remember most, and what I talk about in today's episode. But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 228 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. When people ask me, "How was your trip?" I can say it was truly awesome.  But it was different from the kind of awesome that has become so commonplace these days. It wasn't like the awesome you hear from the high school kid after he finishes taking your order at Chick-fil-A. What was awesome for me was the beauty I saw in several different forms. The first was how spectacular the landscape and scenery were. I couldn't help but think of how pleased God must be with his creation of this island about the size of South Carolina. Anne Lamont would call it "God showing off" when he created Ireland. Showing off in the best sense of the word in talking about ˙is creation. Beauty in Differences Another form of beauty I experienced was how different many things were to what I'm accustomed. Driving on the left side of the road. Very few highways wider than two lanes. People saying" sorry" when they accidentally bump into you on the crowded sidewalks of Dublin and Belfast. No graffiti or homeless people that I could see. And how clean everything was. No garbage or litter. And the sheep. All those sheep. Have I mentioned the sheep yet?  So much beauty in people living life very different from me,and thriving in it. There was also the beauty I saw in relationships during our travels through the cities and countryside of Ireland. One stop took us to the Waterford Crystal factory in Cork, and another to Belleek Pottery in Northern Ireland. In both places I was impressed with the artisans who work there.  They start an apprenticeship that lasts 5 years, and then after 3 more years they become master artisans in their craft. They spend the work day at benches creating beauty in small decorative items that are shipped around the world. Their relationship to their work in creating beauty is a picture of dedication. Creating beauty from a workbench In both places, many of the employees have worked for decades at the same job. Several grey-haired men, not much younger than me, hunched over their benches with ear buds in their ears, creating intricate details with small tools in their large hands. It made me wonder if they might be listening to this podcast. I don't know if I I could work as a craftsman like they do. I don't have the pertinence I imagine they must have.s="Apple-converted-space">  I also think I would get bored. But I so respect people who work at tedious jobs like this in order to support their families. Men and women who sacrifice loftier goals for the sake of earning a living so their families could achieve their goals.  Yet the objects they create are truly beautiful, so there's got to be some satisfaction in this. Many of the pieces were so expensive I picture them becoming family heirlooms to be handed down to future generations. That's got to be rewarding. The man in bib overalls Another form of relationship beauty unfolded in front of me with some of the people in our tour group. My wife and I  traveled with two friends of ours, along with 37 strangers on a motor coach all over Ireland for 12 days. One man in our tour group stood out, the guy who wore bib overalls every day, and everywhere. He seemed out of place at first. You cut people slack when they're living out of a suitcase for 12 days as we did. But he wore bib overalls all the time, even at the nice restaurants on our tour. I thought at first he was a farmer, but soon learned that he was a public works employee who just retired from his job in a medium-size town in central Illinois. I don't remember his name, but he was the kindest, gentlest, and most caring person I've run into in a long time.  He helped Janet get off our bus on several occasions, and he helped other people as well. He stood in sharp contrast to two other men on the trip who never seemed to stop talking. On and on they talked about their travels, the minor things that went wrong on our tour, and their opinions about everything under the sun. They seemed oblivious to others in their midst. Different from other men on the trip But the man in bib overalls wasn't like this at all. He always smiled and never complained about anything. I recall an interesting conversation he and I had about his snowplowing duties with the city.  "I loved plowing snow because I knew it was helping people, helping them get out and around town after a snow storm, " he said. At one of our stops in a small village the bus driver had a problem starting the bus when we were set to leave, and many of us were getting nervous. So the man in bib overalls got out of his seat, walked to the front of the bus, talked to the driver, and then helped him completely push the bus door shut that was ajar, which had kept the bus from starting. Then on at the end of our trip and on our flight home back to Chicago, who should I run into one last time, but the man in bib overalls. I spotted him at the back of the plane somewhere over the Atlantic when I needed to use the restroom. He was standing in the aisle back there, and when he saw  I was having difficulty reading the little "vacant" or "occupied" sign in the door, he came over and with a smile on his face, said, "Go ahead, no one is in there." You might be thinking about now, where is the beauty in your encounter with that guy in bib overalls? Beauty in being the person God created each of us to be The beauty starts with how comfortable the man was in his own skin … and his bib overalls. He didn't care about what others thought of his unusual out of out-of-place appearance. He wore what made him feel good, without concern for pleasing others and meeting their standards.   Like all of us, he is created in the image and likeness of God. And there is beauty in being the person God made us to be in reflecting his image. We were made for this. Wearing bib overalls is a bit contrarian as it goes against the grain of what society expects. So is God and his son, Jesus. They go against the grain in so many ways.  There is beauty in being different, especially when at the same time a person is charming and engaging with people. Sometimes being different comes out as anger or defiance, which certainly does not characterize Jesus. Nor does it describe the man in bib overalls. What better way to be different than to help people off a bus, to enjoy plowing snow because it helps people move around town, and to help people read a small sign on an airplane restroom? Beauty in another relationship I saw beauty in another relationship on our trip watching two widows. One was a retired school teacher who cared for her older sister. Both were widows from the Philadelphia area. I think the older sister was the oldest traveler in our group, and her younger sister was at least 10 years younger than her, if not more. One evening as our tour group ate dinner together, I sat across from the older sister, while on Janet's right sat the younger one. Older Sister asked me about my life and my family, and I did the same with her. I learned about her deceased husband and their children, and also about Younger Sister and her family.  I was the only man at our table of six that included Janet and four widows. Later on it struck me that I was feeling a little survivor's guilt, being the only surviving husband at out table. So many widows I know. When will my wife join their ranks? Why them and not me?  It's been on my mind lately. Some people you just easily connect with There was just something about these two sisters that I found so appealing. Their kindness, their gentleness, their sense of humor. We could tell they were women of faith. Throughout our trip I saw Younger Sister help Older Sister navigate through groups of people and come to her aid from time to time. There was such beauty in seeing the younger sister care for the older sister like this. They never complained about anything that bothered others.. They were having the time of their lives, enjoying the trip and each other's company. Such beauty in watching them interact. Their parents would be proud of them. There are more examples of the relationship beauty I saw in Ireland, but it would be best done in person over dinner at your house. As I've said before in other episodes, Wednesdays still work best for me, but I'm flexible. So what does all this mean for YOU? So what does all this have to do with you?  From my perspective, it has to do with seeing the beauty all around us if we just pay attention and look for it. You certainly don't have to go to Ireland. We will find beauty in all of nature when we acknowledge that God is the creator of everything. Everything. So much of it he created for us to look at and enjoy. He also created each of us to be in relationship with him, and with each other. And when we relate well with each other by reflecting the image and character of God we create beauty ourselves. We were made for this. YOU were made for this.  Closing As we close up shop for today, I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show, to notice the beauty

In last week's blog post (click here if you missed it) I wrote about taking a break from the news media because of how unsettling and agitated it was making me feel. All the violence and discord were making me anxious. I needed to withdraw myself from the news and turn to something more positive. It led me to a passage in the Bible from Philippians 4:8, which reads,  "And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." I then wrote about the breakfast Janet and I had with our 23-year-old twin grandsons and what a delight it was because it personified the virtues the Apostle Paul described in this passage.  Anxiety creeps in What I didn't mention last time was that our breakfast came at a time of anxiety for me in preparing for a vacation trip Janet and I were taking to Ireland. It was coming up soon, and I even thought, "How can I get out of this?" Have you ever felt anxious like this, even over something good like a vacation? In today's episode I'll tell you how I made it through this anxiety, because what I learned in the process may help you when you're feeling anxious. But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to the start of season 10 and episode 227 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in all our relationships. It's what we were made for. We were made for this. Vacation planning causes anxiety So what was there to be anxious about in planning a 12-day vacation trip to Ireland? Janet and I have both traveled a number of times overseas, but it seemed there were more things to be anxious about this time.  Will our Irish cat, Father Patrick O'Malley, be okay with our cat sitter?   Will the bus taking us from our home in Wisconsin to O'Hare International for the flight to Dublin get us there on time? Will I forget my passport? Will our flight be on time, or might it even be cancelled? What did I forget to pack?  Did I pack too much, or too little? Will I get sick like I did a few years ago, and spend hours in the ER of a London Hospital? Will Janet get sick? Will I lose my passport in Ireland? Will Janet's foot and knee pain keep her from being able to walk fast enough to keep with the tour guide? On our return home, will we be able to find the place to pick up the bus at O'Hare to take us home? On and on it went. So many things that could go wrong. Was the trip even worth it? An answer to anxiety During this anxious time a few close friends were praying for Janet and me. As the day grew closer to leave, I was in the middle of reading through the Book of Psalms in the Bible. At the height of my anxious feelings I came across Psalm 139. And that is what made all the difference in relieving me from my anxious thoughts and feelings. Reading this psalm several times over a few days calmed my heart. It's another example of putting Philippians 4:8 in practice, namely,  fixing my thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Thinking about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. I'll close now by reading Psalm 139 for you. It's not very long. I hope you will think of the truths it contains when you're feeling anxious and unsettled.  Because it is what we were made for. You and I were made for this. Psalm 139 O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I'm far away.  You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence! If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the grave,[a] you are there. If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me, and your strength will support me. I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night— but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day. Darkness and light are the same to you. You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me,[b] O God. They cannot be numbered! I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me! O God, if only you would destroy the wicked! Get out of my life, you murderers! They blaspheme you; your enemies misuse your name. O Lord, shouldn't I hate those who hate you? Shouldn't I despise those who oppose you? Yes, I hate them with total hatred, for your enemies are my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.   Thanks for listening in, and I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast? 021: The Most Important Relationship of All Prior recent episode 226: End-of-Summer Conversations All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

Labor Day here in the U.S. on the first Monday in September is near the top of my list of favorite holidays. There's a freshness and energy about this time of year I find appealing. But before we launch into fall, there are some end-of-summer conversations I've recently had that I don't want to forget because they add to the richness and energy of autumn. So I'm going to give you only a brief snap shot of some of them because they deserve more reflection than I have time to consider now. I bet you've had some similar end-of-summer conversations you'd like to think more about later this fall. I'm going to give you mine, but I'd like to hear about yours. But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 226 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in all our relationships. It's the THIS we were made for. Now here's my list of end-of-summer conversation I want to think more about later. I think each one of them could be a podcast episode in the future. We'll see. End of summer conversation with Meghan First off, we had a missionary couple stay with us recently. I'll call them Harry and Meghan, which may surprise you aren't their real names.  During their with us Meghan said she found my blog post from a few weeks ago helpful, "Grief Doesn't Follow the Rules." She forwarded it to a relative who experienced the death of a child, and then to a co-worker whose adult son took his own life. Meghan went on to say that the relative was disappointed in people who did not understand her grief. A counselor told Meghan, "It's not your job to understand her grief. A counselor's job is to help her understand her own grief."  And then this related thought that the counselor told Meghan, "Grief is inevitable. Misery is optional." I'm going to be thinking more about these comments. And also, what should we expect from our friends when we ar grieving? More from Meghan Before she and Harry left us, there's one more end-of-summer conversation I had with Meghan that I'll be thinking about for sometime this fall. A friend of hers is in a church that had a weekend conference where the speaker talked extensively about demon possession, and how if believers and followers of Jesus are not careful, demons can possess them. This bothered Meghan's friend so she did quite a bit of research into whether or not demons can actually dwell inside a Jesus follower. She concluded they can't because the spirit of God living within a believer cannot co-exist with a demon. It raises the question does the pastor agree with her or with the conference speaker. If he agrees with the conference speaker that Christians can be demon possessed, she doesn't think she could stay at the church because of this seismic theological difference. Meghan went on to say, "My friend has been going to this church for decades. All her friends are at this church This church is her life. It would be heartbreaking to have to leave." Yikes, the anguish this must cause Meghan's friend. I don't remember where this one came from I heard someone say in an another end-of-summer conversation, "Behavior never lies." This is  a really helpful principle in dealing with interpersonal relationships. What a person does reveals more than what they say. This especially true with teenage children. My end-of-summer conversation with Harry Then there's the conversation I had with Harry, Meghan's husband. We told him we have started asking people with tattoos, "tell me the story of your tattoo. What does it mean to you." We've noticed lately that wait staff in restaurants often have tattoos. Harry is a leader within his mission organization and he mentioned that in a staff meeting he said that everyone has a story. I'm sure you've heard this before. But then he added, "We honor someone when we ask them to tell their story."    The word "honor" just jumped out me. I'm going to be thinking more about this. People with a difficult past We then started talking about people who don't want to share their story. Who don't want you to know about them. Why is that?  If we honor people when we ask them to tell us their story, why do some people run the other way? One possibility, and this is just a guess, is that some people feel shame over their past, even if what happened to them was out of their control. So they play it close to the vest with people, and rarely disclose much about themself.  This reminded me of my friend Dan who grew up in a very abusive home as a a child. Some people who had similar childhoods will carry this around with them the rest of their life and define themselves in terms of the terrible things that happened to them. But for Dan, he says, "All the bad stuff that happened to me in childhood is certainly part of my story. But it is not an active part. I prefer to focus on the active part of my story." So what about you? Enough about me. I wonder what end-of-summer conversations you've had that will carry you into the fall thinking about them. Were there any thought provoking questions or insightful observations about life?  I hope so I'd love to hear from you about them. Closing As we close up shop for today, I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show, to reflect upon meaningful conversations you had with people as summer gives way to fall. Well, that's it for today. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions to today's episode. Just go to the show notes for today's program at JohnCertalic.com, then scroll down to the end to the "Leave a comment" box. Finally, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Prior most recent episode 225: A Joy to Be Around Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast? 021: The Most Important Relationship of All All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

Today's episode Some people are a joy to be around. I have a story for you today about one of them, and what I learned about being more like him.  But first, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 225 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in all our relationships. It's the THIS we were made for. Someone once told me "always have a doctor you like who is younger than you. The older ones retire, and then you are stuck and have to look for a new one."  The same is true for barbers. I'm now on my third barber in the last 30+ years. First there was Paul, who retired. Then came John, and he retired, too.  Leaving me with Nick at the present moment. I was with Paul the longest - for several decades. Besides haircuts, I learned from him an easy way to stain my deck and other useful household tips. I also had the joy of taking my twin grandsons to him when they were toddlers, and then into middle school.  Paul was kind to them in their early years and more tolerant of their fidgeting around than I was. He had a jar of candy they could dip their hand into as a reward for sitting through their haircut. Laffy Taffy was their favorite. Inviting your  barber to Thanksgiving dinner My reward was watching them interact with Paul and the things they said that made both of us laugh. Like the time, with all sincerity of heart, one of them invited him to their house for Thanksgiving dinner. I miss those days with the boys. Then Paul retired and I had to find someone new. For some odd reason I started going to the barber shop my father went to back in the 1950s and 60s. The owner was Buzz and he lived across the street from our house. As a kid, I think my father only ever took me once or twice to Buzz's barber shop. Every other time my dad cut my hair himself. I recently recovered from the PTSD of this childhood memory. By the time I returned to the place where Buzz cut hair, he was long gone. But the small shop was just as I remembered it. It drew me into my past like a slow moving train going through a dark tunnel. The shop was now owned by John, a barber older than me. I really liked him because he was fast and gave neck shaves as part of the haircut. Paul never did that, and I didn't have the heart to ask him why. Haircut injuries My dad didn't give neck shaves either, which was wise on his part. Instead, he gave accidental neck burns with the hot electric razor he used. So I was delighted when John shaved y my neck as a matter of course. Using shaving cream and a straight-edge razor to shave off neck hairs on the back of my neck is the greatest feeling in the world. If money were no object, I'd visit a barber shop every couple of weeks just for a neck shave. During my first visit back to this place of my youth I sat in John's barber chair and imagined my father sitting in this same chair decades ago, having a boisterous conversation with Buzz while he cut my dad's hair. On another visit to see John I told him about my connection with his shop. I asked him if he knew Buzz, the original owner, and to my delight he said he did. He told me about his wife and kids, and how he got divorced and moved toArizona. Rumor has it, Buzz killed himself, John told me. My heart sank. Barber Shop ambience takes a nose dive I continued going to John for haircuts in what was for me a historic place and connection with my father and my childhood. But things changed one day, when John began replacing his 3 traditional barber chairs with lowriding black seats and back, and small chrome handled chairs found in hair salons. Big mistake, I thought. There's something special about traditional barber chairs from the 50s. Thick arm rests about five inches wide, covered in worn brown leather with compartments for an ashtray and your pack of cigarettes.  I keep coming back, anyway, despite this loss of ambience. But then one day I called to make an appointment and was told John recently retired. I continued coming for haircuts with John's successor while I looked for a new barber. One who gives neck shaves while I sit in a REAL barber chair and not one of those low riding models that girls sit in. It took awhile, but on sunny Monday  I noticed a small nondescript   building near my home that I had ignored for years. I thought it was a vacant barber shop. But my wife said she actually saw someone coming out of it.  So I pulled into it's parking lot, went to the door. and walked in ro see the sole barber chair that looked like the ones John was got rid of. It felt like home.  I asked the barber, whose name was Nick, if did neck shaves. He did, so I made an appointment for latter that week. When I returned for the haircut I noticed a sign he posted for his three teenage sons offering their lawn mowing and landscape services for the summer. Going in to work early   As I sat in his comfortable relic of a barber chair I asked Nick about the sign. He told me he has seven children, one in college, two in high school and four younger kids. I also said I noticed on his web site that he starts at 7:15am. "Yeah, but my first customer today came in today at 5:15am. I want to leave here so I get home by 6pm to be with my family. So if my schedule gets too full, I'll schedule customers earlier in the morning while my kids are sleeping. Then I can get home by six." I'm going to like this guy, I thought. He's one of those people who's a joy to be around. A father and entrepreneur who works hard to provide for his family. Who works while they sleep. Getting a haircut by Nick, with the accompanying neck shave brightened my day. And it was mostly because of the brief conversation I had with him. About  about him.  Anyone who works as hard as he does, and who sacrifices for his family like Nick does can't help but be a person who's a joy to be around. There aren't a lot of dads who choose to get to work by 5:15 am so they can spend more time with their kids later in the day when they are awake. Kudos to Nick and men like him who work 13-hour days, or have second jobs, to support their families.  One little question releases joy My second haircut was just as uplifting for me. When I arrived a few minutes before my appointment, Nick was finishing up with another customer who went on and on talking about his Green Bay Packers season tickets. But Nick was kind and let the guy ramble on until he was finished. Then it was my turn to get in the chair. After exchanging pleasantries I asked Nick one question that carried us through to the end of my haircut. My haircuts don't take as long as they used to because the part in my hair has widened considerably over the years. Considerably. Anyway,  here's what I asked: "When I was here last time I saw the notice you posted for your sons who were looking for lawn mowing and other  yard work for the summer. How is that going for them?" Nick responded by telling me his three sons earned about $3,500 each during the course of the summer, and were winding down as school for each of them was coming up soon. He then went on and on talking in great detail about each of his boys and their academic accomplishments. He was obviously proud of his boys, and you could feel the joy they brought to him. At one point he set aside the razor he was using on my hair and walked around in front of me and stood next to a nearby cabinet to talk to me face-to-face. He wanted to be sure I understood how much joy his children brought to his life. What makes a person a joy to be around? In ny view, it starts with shared values. With Nick, I share the same value about the importance of family. Providing for the financial needs of his family is certainly part of it, but also it is being present in the lives of one's children. Being home when they're awake. Sacrificing sleep so he had more time with the kids. I share that value with him. Another value I share with Nick is taking advantage of a job that allows you to make more money by working harder, smarter, and longer. Not all jobs are like this, and obviously, this isn't a fit for everyone. My career as an executive recruiter was like this. My career as a high school teacher was not. But I enjoyed and valued both of them, even though they were worlds apart. Even more than shared values, someone who is a joy to be around is someone who exudes joy. They find joy in life and it's contagious. It radiates from them, and many times in subtle ways. When people listen to us When Nick talks about his boys it does not come across as pride. There's nothing wrong with being proud of your kids, but there is something deeper and more subtle. With Nick, it's the joy his children bring into his life. And he wants to share it with you, if you're willing to listen. Most people aren't.  But when we share the joy coming from within us. it helps us remember how good we have it, and how thankful we can be. There are a couple of verses in the Gospels where Jesus is described as a son who brings God great joy. Several times it's mentioned. When I have more time, I'll look them up and share them with you. I need more joyful people in my life. People like Nick. How about you?  Who are the people in your life who are a joy to be around? A Better question: how can I be a joy to be around? I'm convinced it starts with being a good listener.  This is something I deeply value, and is something that brings me joy when I listen well. It feels like I unlock something for someone who doesn't realize they have something important they want to get out, but the door is locked. Once unlocked, they feel uplifted. It's a great privilege to listen well. I talk about it all the time in this  podcast. Beyond listening well to others, and actually even more important than listening, is being the person God created each of us to be. Someone who

I've been reflecting more and more lately about how much God cares about us.  When we hurt he hurts. Today's episode is about how God responds to the dark times we go through, and what he models for us in relating to the hurting people in our lives. But before we begin, I'm John Certalic, and you're listening to episode 224 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about the joy of relationships we were made for. Those that reflect the character and image of God in the unique way he made each of us. Today's episode is an example of how this works An unwanted anniversary I've been reading through the Book of Psalms in the Old Testament this summer, and the other day I came across a passage that jumped out at me as if to say, You'll want to pay more attention to this one. It deserves your attention. You're going to want to reflect on this more than normal. Here's the passage, just one verse, Psalm 56:8 You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle You have recorded each one in your book.          NLT The first thing I thought of as I read this verse is my friend, Martin. This Friday, two days from now, is the fifth anniversary of the death of his wife, Suzanne. Martin and Suzanne were missionaries, first in China, then in Germany where Martin is from. I got to know both of them when Janet and I served at a missionary conference put on by their sending agency. When they left the mission filled to move to the States to care for Suzanne's mother in Chicago, we got together several times and continued our friendship. It was shocking to get a text from Martin one evening that his his beloved wife, and our friend, had died from a brain aneurysm. She was only 53. I devoted several podcast episodes about the aftermath of this terrible event in Martin's life. You can hear more of the details  if you go to the end of the show notes where you'll find links to those episodes. Numbers 071 and 072. An Old Testament example of how God cares For today, though, I can't shake Psalm 56:8 and how it relates to what Martin went through, and continues to go through, because that's how grief works. In the midst of the awful things King David went through, he still had a deep appreciation for God's empathic character. David brings his relationship with God into his circumstances in this verse. Three sentences that all begin with "You." Each "You" is a specific statement of how God is at work in David's life. Each "You" is followed by a distinct and compassionate verb phrase: keeping track of all David's sorrows, collecting all his tears in a bottle, and recording each sorrow in a book. I don't know about you, but when I'm going through a rough patch, I want God to fix things, to put ab end my problems. Instead, we see in in the example of David that he doesn't ask God to fix things for him. Rather, he is content knowing that God is right there with us in the midst of what we're  dealing with. He's there not simply as an observer, but as an active and empathetic participant with us. God cares enough to keep tears out of heaven What strikes me most in this passage from Psalms is the bottle in which God stores all of David's tears. This, of course, is poetic and figurative language used to describe God's awareness and understanding of the pain we go through in life.  And while the bottle God is using to collect our tears may be overflowing at times, this same bottle is empty once we get to heaven. Revelation 21 tells us there are no tears in heaven. What a comforting thought, this is - God emptying the bottle that contained all the tears we shed on earth. Another element to how God cares  There's another point to this verse in Psalms that I find interesting and instructive in relating with the "Martins" in our life. I know you have them, people like Martin who have suffered great loss. It starts with recognizing and reminding ourselves that we are all created with the image and likeness of God backed into each of us. He enables us to manifest his character through the qualities  he used to make us the unique person we are so that we can care for people in ways that God cares. What a privilege!   For example, in Psalm 56 when David describes God as one who keeps track of our sorrows, collects tears, and records them in a book, there are some clues as to what we can do to help people. These 3 actions of God are all about acknowledging and remembering what people hav gone through or are going through now. And this is something WE can do for people . We can acknowledge and remember what our friends have experienced, even years after the fact. After Suzanne died, I recorded the date of her death in my computer's calendar, and set it to repeat on the same day in years to come. I didn't want to forget the day. I do this for other losses my friends have suffered.  It reminds me to contact my friends and let them know I remember them and am thinking about them and what they have lost.  Text, phone call, card, email, or even a visit. It almost doesn't matter what form it takes. It's just to connect with them to let them know I haven't forgotten the awful pain they've experienced. There is so much power in the simple act of letting people know you remember. Closing Well that's what I have for you today. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's episode to remember that God's purpose in our lives isn't always to fix things for us. Instead he uses our difficulties to reveal his kindness  compassion,  and love. And more than this, remember that we can do the same thing for the people in our life going through struggles and loss. Because we were made for this! Now before I go call Martin by the end of the week to let him know I still remember his loss, here's Psalm 56:8 one more time with its wonderful truths about God we can cling to: You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions to today's episode. Just go to the show notes for today's program at JohnCertalic.com, then scroll down to the end to the "Leave a comment" box. Finally, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 071: How to Help a Grieving Friend 072:  What I Learned From a Grieving Friend Most recent prior  episode 223: A Christmas in July Story All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

As I'm recording this, Christmas is almost six months away. I recall last Christmas, when I heard a few people say they wished we could have the Christmas spirit all year long. We can if we reflect the image and character of God. And I have a Christmas in July story for you today that shows us how. Welcome to episode 223 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in all our relationships. It's the THIS, we were made for. ———————————— One of the things my in-laws were noted for was hosting a Christmas in July party in their small 1960s-style basement rec room. They did it up with a decorated Christmas tree, elephant gifts, loud laughter, and plenty of food. Especially my Italian mother-in-law's signature spaghetti. It was quite a festive affair, without any of the stress that sometimes comes with Christmas in December. With that in mind. I have a Christmas in July story for you, which actually took place last December, but that I've held onto it until now. It's been hard holding it back because it's one of my favorites. Background to this Christmas in July story The story I is about a man who embodies the spirit of Christmas by reflecting the character of Jesus, whose birth we celebrate on December 25th. But first I have to give you a little background information about my friend Paul. I first met him years ago when a co-worker told me about taking her car to be fixed. She said, "My car was making a funny noise so I took in to Paul's auto repair shop. He said it wasn't a serious problem and would be expensive to repair. He told me if I could put up with that distracting sound, not to fix it. It's not causing any harm. That's what he would do if it were his car." This was classic Paul and the kind of business he ran. The main character in this Christmas in July story Paul is an avid baseball fan, and when I would take my car in for an oil change, he and I would talk briefly about baseball while one of  his mechanics worked on my car. In his reception area and waiting room he had some impressive pieces of baseball memorabilia.  There was a large photograph of our then-new Major League Baseball stadium in Milwaukee, Miller Park, on the day it first opened. Another item was an official baseball bat signed by one of the Milwaukee Brewers. Jim Gantner, I seem to recall, but I could be wrong. All this is an important part of the story that I'll get to later. So bear with me even if you're not into baseball. One Sunday morning several years after I first met Paul, I saw him from a distance in the parking lot of the large church Janet and I were attending at the time. Hmm, I thought. I wonder if he is a follower of Jesus like I am. Depending upon the generosity of others Now, by this time, I had closed my own recruiting business to work full-time in a missionary care ministry Janet and I helped start. To pay our bills we formed a non-profit corporation and began raising funds for our ministry. One of the people I contacted by mail was Paul, and to my surprise, he responded with a generous check. Why it surpeised meI don't know, but it just did. I was a pretty happy customer of Paul's, but then one day I learned he had retired and sold his auto repair business to one of his mechanics. This didn't change anything for me because I continued to have my car serviced by the new owners, but missed seeing Paul. Some time passed after Paul's retirement, and one day while in for oil change I noticed all of Paul's baseball souvenirs were gone. I didn't say anything, except to ask if Paul was still around. Another  character in this Christmas in July story "Oh sure, he stops in every so often. He was here earlier this morning. You just missed him" was a common refrain I heard from the new owner.  Fast forward to seven months ago and this past December.  Like her mother who was noted for her Christmas in July parties, my wife Janet is noted for a snack mix she created for friends every Christmas. It's made of pretzels, bugles, goldfish crackers, cashews and a few other secret ingredients. If you'd like to know the exact recipe, Janet and I would be glad to share it with you after dinner at your house. Wednesday evenings still work best, but we're flexible. Anyway, last December Janet was packaging her Christmas snack recipe for friends, and I asked her to make one up for Paul. He's been so generous with us, it was the least we could do. I had his address from the checks he sends for our ministry. So it would be simple to drop off a package of Janet's snack mix at his house. Or so I thought. On a Saturday morning close to Christmas, I plugged Paul's address into Google Maps on my phone and headed to his house with a package of Janet's snack mix. I stopped in front of what I thought was his house, went to the front door, and rang the doorbell. A woman opened the door and I asked if this was Paul's house. "No, I'm sorry. You have the wrong address," She said in a friendly manner. A well-known neighbor Pointing to her right she corrected me with, "Paul lives down the street, past the next street over. He's in the second house in from the side street. It's the one with the small wire reindeer decoration on the front lawn." I was amazed at the detail this woman knew about her neighbor down the block. My next-door neighbor knows my name. but I doubt if anyone else down the street does. Clearly Paul has made a name for himself, and by the tone of this neighbor's voice, I could tell it was a positive one.  I then drove down the street to the correct address for Paul's house and parked at the end of his long driveway near the street. As I got out out of the car with Janet's Christmas snack in hand, out from the garage came Paul who called to me, "Hello, John!" I was surprised because it had been a number of years since I last saw Paul at his shop, and I never in a thousand years expected he would recognize me, much less remember my name. It could be that he listens to my podcast and noticed my license plate, which reads "I LISTEN." I've used a photo of this plate several times in the show notes for several episodes.That's my guess anyway. I returned Paul's greeting with one of my own as I walked up his driveway to where he was standing outside his garage. I gave him the package of Janet's Christmas snack mix and told him how much we appreciated his support of our ministry. Kindness and graciousness interrupt a conversation We then had a few minutes of small talk, which brought me back to all the times we chatted when I brought my car in for service. In the middle of our conversation, a woman walked up the drive and gave a gift for Paul to give to his wife. They were clearly friends, and it was interesting watching the two of them chat. I was impressed with Paul's genuine kindness and graciousness toward this woman. He is just one of those kinds of people you love being around. After the lady left, I asked Paul how the auto service business he sold to one of his employees was doing. I told him that to me it looked like they were doing well, as I had a hard time getting an appointment the last time I took my car in.  "Yeah. they're doing great. They hired a couple of new cracker-jack mechanics and their business has really taken off," Paul said. You could tell from the tone of his voice he was genuinely happy for the guys who took over his business. I then said, "I noticed they took down all your baseball stuff from the wall. The bat, the photos, etc." "Yes they did," Paul remarked. "They wanted to make the waiting room and office their own, which I understand." His eyes then lit up, and he became more expressive and animated as he spoke. "But I've got a story for you about all that." Christmas in July comes alive for me when I think of this story He began with,"I started seeing a new doctor and the first time I went to his office you couldn't help but notice how stark and plain it was. It looked pretty institutionalized. So the next time I went to see him I said, "You know I sold my business and I had all this baseball memorabilia that I took with me. A signed baseball bat, phots of Miller Park the day it opened, stuff like that. I'd like to give it to you if you're interested so you could put it up in your waiting room. I know my customers liked it, and I think your patients might lie it too. It's all yours if you want it." The doctor was grateful for the offer, but the medical network he was with prohibited accepting gifts from patients. Hmm. Paul thought for a minute, then said, "Well, how about if I lease all my baseball stuff to you with a 99-year verbal lease? It wouldn't be a gift then. Just a lease." I burst out laughing. The doctor said, "I think that would work." So he took Paul's baseball artifacts and the next time he had an appointment with his doctor, he saw all of it displayed on a waiting room wall. "My doctor said his patients loved seeing all the stuff displayed, and it just warmed up the waiting room and humanized it." "How generous of you, Paul," I said. "It was just going to sit in my basement otherwise," he remarked. Our conversation came to a close, and I headed home, smiling all the way. I still smile when I think of it now, here in the middle of July, six months later. The joy of Christmas isn't limited to December 25th So what's the point of this Christmas in July story? For me, it's connecting the dots with the joy of that first Christmas when God was kind and generous enough to send us his son Jesus - connecting this with the joy that came from the kindness and generosity of both Janet and Paul. Janet making that Christmas snack mix and giving it away to people, and Paul for giving away…opps, I mean leasing his baseball memorabilia to his doctor. Neither Janet nor Paul got anything tangible in return for the

I've come to learn that relating with people through the lens of "I want to hear your story" is a great way to live. It enriches our lives in more ways than you can imagine. I started thinking more deeply about this principle when Janet and I visited William Shakespeare's hometown of Stratford-on-Avon in England. Several years later, during a trip to Savannah, Georgia, I witnessed "I want to hear your story" play out in real-time. And more recently, I saw it demonstrated in a church service, where a 20-something law school student shared a story he experienced. So that's what I have for you today, three examples of what happens when people live with a mindset of "I want to hear your story." But before we get into all this, I'm John Certalic, and you are listening to episode 222 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about finding joy in being the person God created each of us to be. Namely, someone who reflects the character, image, and likeness of God in our relationships.  It's the THIS, we were made for. Visiting Shakespeare's hometown It seems like yesterday, but a number of years ago we were visiting friends who ran a missionary care center in England. They lived not far from William Shakespeare's hometown of Stratford-on-Avon. So one day we drove over there, and among the things we saw was the Shakespeare museum. It was quite fascinating. Staffed by people wearing Elizabethan costumes, they were  quite skilled in explaining all things Shakespeare-related.  At one point, a pair of docents asked the group we were with to call out a scene from one of Shakespeare's plays, and they would reenact it for us. What great fun. We loved it. But for me, the most interesting part of the museum was its entrance. Painted on the wall was a quote from one of Shakespeare's plays, The Tempest. It took up the whole wall and read, I long to hear the story of your life. The wisdom of these words The picture you see on our website for this episode is a photo I took with my phone. The wall dominated the museum entrance. You couldn't escape it. And I can't escape thinking about it. Shakespeare wrote 38 plays and 154 sonnets that are known to us. Given the sheer volume of his work, it boggles my imagination to think of why this brief I long to hear the story of your life quote was selected for the only piece of his writing to appear on the wall leading into the museum. How did the people in charge of the museum decide on this quote rather than many others from his more well-known plays?  Hamlet, King Lear, Julius Caesar, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet,  all have great quotes that could have been chosen. But I think the museum directors made an excellent choice. I long to hear the story of your life is such an encouraging thought. It's uplifting and inspiring. It's also so counterintuitive. If you're anything like me,  I long to TEll you MY story. Imagine if just 20% of the people you know longed to hear the story of your life? Just 2 out of 10. More importantly, what if I longed to hear the story of YOUR life? One person who does long to hear the story of our life is God. He wants to hear from us. They call it prayer. Our trip to Savannah story The second example of living a I-want-to-hear-your-story life is from another trip we took. This one to Savannah, Georgia. It's one of our favorite places to visit. We love the history and culture there. On one particular occasion, we arrived at the Airbnb we rented in the early evening, and after unpacking, we went looking for a place to eat. We found a restaurant nearby that wasn't very busy. We lucked out with a young, personable waitress, and after we finished placing our order with her, out of nowhere, Janet asked her, "So what's your story?" Janet is normally not that bold with strangers, but something prompted her to strike up a conversation with this young woman, which turned out to be quite interesting.  We found out she was a senior at SCAD - the Savannah College of Art and Design. We learned that she is majoring in theater and plans to go to Hollywood when she graduates to look for a job in the film industry. I don't understand how a theatre major at SCAD has anything to do with art and design, but I let that go because we were interested in her, not her college.  When people tell you their story you don't have to make sense out of everything they say.  What you get from asking someone, "What's your story?" So what did we get out of this conversation? There were a couple of things.  First off, it lifted us out of ourselves and the latent stress of travel.  Secondly, her story introduced us to a world so removed from our own. It was a conversation with someone from a different stage of life than ours, living in a city and part of the country, so different from our own. Her dreams and aspirations are so different from ours.  All these differences combined to expand our world for a brief time and set the stage for a delightful few days of our vacation.  Another thing we got out of the conversation was an opportunity to bless someone by asking them to talk about themselves. Who does that these days? We're all so busy talking about ourselves. But it's one way to mirror the character and kindness of God. Church is a good place to ask people about their story I have one last example of the good things that can happen when we let someone know, "I want to hear your story." It happened one Sunday at the church we had been attending. As part of the morning service our small congregation discusses the sermon we just watched streamed to the screen of the hotel meeting room where we held our services. I always enjoyed these discussions and listening to people's reactions and perspectives. On this particular Sunday the sermon was about the Spirit of God working in our lives. During the discussion, someone in our group said that we don't hear many concrete examples of this. And it would be helpful if we did. So a few people shared some examples of God's spirit working in their lives. The following Sunday, the discussion leader asked a 20-something member of our group to tell us the story he shared with him privately after last week's discussion. So this young man, who is a law school student, began telling us his story.  One day, a classmate of his was frantic because, for some unknown reason, all his notes for the class they were both taking disappeared from his computer. An exam was coming up, and this fellow student was beside himself with worry.  After processing his classmate's predicament, our 20-something church member said to him, "Would you like a copy of my notes? I'd be happy to give them to you."  The classmate gratefully accepted. What's most interesting about this story is what the 20-something law student from our church said to us next. "My first reaction was not to help" "My first reaction was NOT to help this guy.  Most people don't realize how highly competitive law school is. Everyone is graded on a curve. You can score a 95 on the only exam of the course and still only earn a "B" for the class. So by helping him out I could potentially get a lower grade myself. "But something inside of me told me offering him a copy of my notes was the right thing to do, even if I suffered adverse consequences." What followed was a lively discussion with everyone else in our group about how that "something inside" of our 20-something law student was the Spirit of God. It was such an uplifting and encouraging story. The law student repeated several times, "I really didn't want to share my notes at first." But that is what made his story so encouraging because you know it was God who prompted him to act. And while this is an obvious part of the story, it's less obvious that God was working in the life of the student who lost his notes in the first place. God was at work in his life, too, by coming to his aid through the 20-something guy from our church. Seeing God at work in the lives of other people gives us hope that he can act in our lives as well.  All this can come from drawing people out to share their story. What about your story? I'm pretty confident people are not coming up to you saying, "I want to hear your story." We're all just trying to make it through life, dealing with our own challenges, but missing opportunities to bless others by being curious about their lives. But each of us can be the person who does the asking. We can bless others by reflecting the image and likeness of God when we ask people to tell us their story.  We were made for this. Closing As we close up shop for today, I hope your thinking was stimulated by today's show, to take a risk this week and say to someone, "So what's your story?" For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of being the person you were created to be. Well, that's it for today. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions to today's episode. Just go to the show notes for today's program at JohnCertalic.com, then scroll down to the end to the "Leave a comment" box. Finally, remember to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them.  And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 165: Nosey People Weaken Relationships; Curious People Strengthen Them 152:  A Better Thing to Do to Help Others 021: The Most Important Relationship of All Prior recent episode 221: An Act of Kindness Remembered Decades Later All past and future episodes can be found at JohnCertalic.com

You never know how an act of kindness will be remembered with fondness many decades later. It reminds us that when we are kind, it's because God made us that way. Today's episode is an example of how this works. Welcome to You Were Made for This But first  - I'm John Certalic and you are listening to episode 221 of You Were Made for This, the podcast about reflecting the character, image, and likeness of God. It's what enables us to enjoy being the unique person he created each of us to be. In today's show we pick up where we left off last time in episode 220. In that episode I explained how it seems like everyone has a podcast these days, but most of them are ones I wouldn't want to listen to. I want to listen to a podcast that is warm and inviting. One that inspires me to think and feel. Something positive and engaging. That's what I would like. and I know some of you feel the same way. So, in 2018, I created "You Were Made for This."  For the first 219 episodes, the THIS I talked about was finding joy in relationships God has in mind for us. Moving forward, with season 9, I still value this direction, but I want to expand upon this theme of relationships, specifically in our relationship with God, and how that impacts all our relationships. The focus of season 9 of our podcast It starts with the fundamental truth that all of us are created in the image and likeness of God. On our better days, we reflect his character. And we experience joy when we do so. It's what we're made for. Ware made for this. I love to see and hear examples of people doing this well, and I'm guessing you do as well. With that in mind, the format for season 9 will feature stories of individuals reflecting the character of God in ways that inspire the rest of us to do the same.  I'm staying away from "how-to" lists or other directives. Less telling and more showing.  Showing examples of people reflecting the image and likeness of god in their daily ordinary lives.  There will be stories you and I can relate to, where we may say to ourselves, "I think I could do that. I think I would enjoy relating to people, as shown in the story. Yeah, I'd like to give that a try. I ended last week's episode, no. 220, with an article from The Wall Street Journal. It's a great feel-good story because the characters in it reflect God's image and likeness, specifically his kindness. In today's episode I want to discuss how the people in the story set an example of what we are made for. But first, I'll read Stacey Graham's piece  entitled "My Brother's Hero and a Stranger's Kindness." And then I'll comment at the end.  My brother's hero and a stranger's act of kindness "My father, a high school football, basketball, and baseball coach, loved baseball player Willie Mays. He even named one of our cats after his favorite athlete. "Every August throughout the 1960s he would pile my sister and me into the car at 4:30 am and drive us from our small town of 1500 in rural Oregon to Candlestick Park in San Fransisco, where we would watch the Giants - and the great Willie Mays in his prime - play a Friday night game. The trip of 952 miles took us more than nine hours. We were always so excited. "We had a routine. After the game, we always stayed in the same nearby hotel and ate all our meals at the same diner. We would always head back to the park for the Saturday doubleheader. It was thrilling to see Willie hit home runs in person rather than on our black-and-white TV. "Our younger brother - Fritz - who liked his father loved Willie - didn't join us until he turned 5 and was deemed old enough. If he had been any more excited the first time we brought him along, he might have exploded. Enjoying the innocence of childhood "That Saturday morning in 1969, we stopped as usual at the diner for breakfast. Fritz noticed, in a booth near the front door, two gray-haired black men having coffee. My brother, having grown up in a place with no racial diversity, had never encountered anyone black in person. "Suddenly, Fritz ran screaming toward the unsuspecting customers yelling at the top of his lungs, 'Dad, it's Willie Mays!' "Bless his heart, one of the gentlemen accepted the honor of playing the role of the future hHall of Famer. At Fritz's request, he signed a napkin, 'Willie Mays.'  I saw both men smiling and laughing. I think they had as much fun as my brother. "My family will always be grateful for this unforgettably generous gesture. The man could have mater-of-factly told Fritz it was a case of mistaken identity. Instead, he went along with the harmless charade and pretended to be Fritz's hero. "This memory came back to me in full force when Willie Mays died last June at 93 [in 2024]. I remembered the man in the booth at the diner. I cried and said a prayer for both." I love this story. Here's why. The act of kindness shown by the dad in the story How can you not be drawn to a father who names the family cat "Willie Mays?"  Not Fluffy, not Snowball, not socks, nor other common cat names like Whiskers (my sister had one of these, who lived a very long time) or Mittens (good friends gave this name to their pancake-eating feline.)  I would love to have a neighbor like this. Not for his love of baseball, but for being creative enough to give a pet a name that makes you smile when you say it. Imagine taking the cat to the vet, and being asked the cat's name. How could you not smile or laugh when you hear it for the first time? A few years ago I had a name in mind for a cat for my wife long before we got one. "Uncle Willie" was to be named after her real-life Uncle Willie. Following a fair amount of research into the supply of cats at the humane Society, I found one I thought would be a match.  So on a cloudy Sunday afternoon after church, we drove the 20 miles through rolling farmland to check out what I thought would be a good cat for my wife. One that we would call Uncle Willie. Well, the cat checked out fine, so we maid the humane society fee, put him in the car, and headed home. But while Janet liked the cat, she hated the name. She didn't want to be reminded of her uncle. Naming our cat So, after a spirited discussion on the drive home I came up with another name - Patrick, which happened to be the name of her ex-boyfriend from middle school. Janet didn't want to be reminded of him either.  So in an act of kindness, I said, "Let's give him a title. How about Father Patrick?"  But Father Patrick just begs for a last name. Jim. Let's make that O'Malley, which will also give him a nationality. It's a perfect name since Janet and I both have rich green Irish blood flowing through our veins.  And that's how Father Patrick O'Malley came to be. I tell stories about him being undocumented, because failing to make it to the US through Ellis Island in New York he was able to cross through our southern border and is awaiting his asylum hearing. In the meantime, I gave him the job of chaplain for our organization. He's doing a splendid job so far. People have laughed out loud when I've told them our cat's name. You may think it's just weird - or stupid, and that's OK. As our daughter-in-law says, "You be you, and I'll be me." God must have a sense of humor Getting back to the dad in the story - how does he reflect the character of God?  One way is through humor. There are no verses in the bible that talk about God's sense of humor or that he even has one. But I know for sure God has a sense of humor because we have one. Anything good about us as humans is because God hard-wired us with that good thing.  There's no denying humor done well is a good thing. There are some forms of humor, though, that are not very appealing and therefore don't reflect the image and likeness of God. Sarcasm, silliness, slapstick, demeaning others - none of these reflect God's character. A cat named after baseball star Willie Mays," lifts us, makes us smile, gets us out of ourselves and off the negative things all around us. That's a good thing. Because that's part of what God does and is. Making time for others is an act of kindness Another thing I appreciate about the father in the story is that he makes time for relationships. He could have gone to the Giants game with a friend or even by himself. Instead, he took his daughter and his son when he was old enough. He drove all that way from Oregon to San Fransisco to create a memory for he and each of his kids. It would been a lot less work if he had gone alone or with another adult.  It's inspiring to read about men like this who invest in their children, who invite them into their world. It's encouraging to know there are men out there like the father in the story. It inspires me to be a little like him.   God, like the father, wants to spend time with us. He wants to nurture a relationship with us, and he, too is creating memories for us if we take the time to notice them. Yeah, this father is reflecting the character of God. And he does so in a way unique to him. Not all dads love baseball, or Willie Mays. Or cats. Nevertheless, the father used his distinct interest as a tool to bond with his kids. What a great way to reflect the image and character of God. An act of kindness from two strangers Then of course we have the two black gentlemen in the restaurant drinking coffee. When the little boy mistakes one of them for Willie Mays, they choose not to correct the kid with the facts. Instead, they both helped to create a moment of joy for the little boy.  They participated in his childhood innocence by fueling the child's misperception. The dad, I'm sure, corrected the boy's perception at a later time with a dose of reality. But now, God is like this, too. He wants us to experience joy every now and then. It's good practice for what heaven will be like.  And I loved how the two men laughed at this little magic moment for Fritz. They found joy themselves in being part of this childhood innoc

Have you noticed how everyone seems to have a podcast these days? Most of them just don't appeal to me. So, in 2018, I created one that does— a podcast I want to listen to and one you'll want to listen to as well. I'm going to give you an example of what I mean shortly. Welcome to Season Nine and episode 220 But first, I'm John Certalic and you are listening to episode 220 of You Were Made for This, a podcast about … well, … stick with me and you'll soon find out soon. It's been quite a number of months since I recorded any new episodes on a regular basis. It's not been for want of anything new to say—no, it's just the opposite. There are so many things I would like to talk to you about. Things like how bandages are so poorly designed these days, the alumni directory I just signed up for…for my grade school. And how come we don't see hitchhikers anymore? Topics like these interest me, but I don't think they'd be a podcast you would want to listen to. So I decided that before I recorded any new episodes, I needed to retool and decide on a clear, distinct focus for moving forward. I needed to spend more time thinking about what the podcast should be about that would make me want to listen to it. Several possibilities excited me at first. But after a few days or weeks, they all lost their luster, and my interest in them waned. Nothing seemed to click. In the meantime, I spent several months writing weekly blog posts for our website, which you can still read.  Returning to the beginning Finally, after a lot of indecision,I found myself drawn back to the title of the podcast we came up with back in 2018: "You Were Made for This."  I began reflecting more about the title's meaning. Maybe the central unifying theme moving forward was right under my nose in the title. I know that the focus of the first 219 episodes was finding joy in the relationships God intends for us. That's been the focus since 2018— it's the This we are made for.  I still think this is a pretty important This. But now I'm feeling the need for a different, yet related and expanded this in a podcast you and I would want to listen to. Especially as I think more about all that this implies. The word this implies a singularity of purpose. It connotes a decree of certainty and confidence.    When you hear someone talk about this you know what you're getting. It's also personal, this is. It's honest and authentic. You can't say the same about that.  That is an external word. It's impersonal, less connected to any of us.  There's an aloofness about that. I don't think I could listen very long to You Were Made for That. It's not a podcast I would want to listen to. It just sounds too cold. Kind of bossy, too. Like my third-grade teacher sternly waving her ruler at me. An important question There's something warm and inviting about this, which is important to me in a podcast I want to listen to. I'm guessing it's important to you, too. But it does raise the question of what is the this we were made for. The answer found in the first 219 episodes is that in some form or other, each show talked about finding joy in our relationship with people, with ourselves with the  world we live in, and most importantly, our relationship with God.   It's this last relationship I've been drawn toward more closely in recent months. Our relationship with God is the basis for all other meaningful relationships. But considering the many aspects of our relationship with God can seem like water bursting out from a spiritual fire hydrant. The older I get, though, the more I see our relationship with God like a splash pad in our neighborhood park, where, like young children, we run in and out of, sprayed by the overhead sprinklers, cooling us off on a hot summer day. We learn a little about a piece of our relationship with God, then step outside the spiritual splash pad to think and reflect. And then run back in later when we're ready for more. A fundamental truth A podcast I want to listen to would discuss a fundamental truth about our relationship with God that I don't hear talked about much. Namely, that all of us are created in God's image and likeness. Because of this, we are made to reflect his image and likeness in the way we live and interact with each other. We were made for this. I see God as like a diamond, with many different facets that reflect brilliance when the light shines on them all together. Each of us is like one of these facets made to reflect particular characteristics of God. Not all of them, of course, but at least one, probably more.  I'd like to listen to a podcast about what this looks like, and I'm guessing you might, too.   But I don't want to listen to a "how-to" format. I've grown weary of reading and hearing about "5 steps to do this," or "3 ways to accomplish that". I need a break from lists and directives. Instead, I want to listen to a podcast that shows, rather than tells. A podcast with stories and examples. I'm guessing you may be up for that, too. Okay. Now for that story I mentioned earlier. It's an example of the joy found in reflecting well the character of God. We'll be talking about stories like this in upcoming episodes because that's the kind of podcast I want to listen to, and I bet you do, too. The  one I have for you today is from a brief article by Stacey Graham in The Wall Street Journal entitled "My Brother's Hero and a Stranger's Kindness." My Brother's Hero and a Stranger's Kindness "My father, a high school football, basketball, and baseball coach, loved baseball player Willie Mays. He even named one of our cats after his favorite athlete. "Every August throughout the 1960s he would pile my sister and I into the car at 4:30am and drive us from our small town of 1500 in rural Oregon to Candlestick Park in San Fransisco where we would watch the Giants - and the great Willie Mays in his prime - play a Friday night game. The trip of 952 miles took us more than nine hours. We were always so excited. "We had a routine. After the game, we always stayed in the same nearby hotel and ate all our meals at the same diner. We would always head back to the park for the Saturday doubleheader. It was thrilling to see Willie hit home runs in person rather than on our black-and-white TV. "Our younger brother - Fritz - who liked his father loved Willie - didn't join us until he turned 5 and was deemed old enough. If he had been any more excited the first time we brought him along, he might have exploded. "That Saturday morning in 1969, we stopped as usual at the diner for breakfast. Fritz noticed, in a booth near the front door, two gray-haired black men having coffee. My brother, having grown up in a place with no racial diversity, had neverencountered anyone black in person. "Suddenly, Fritz ran screaming toward the unsuspecting customers yelling at the top of his lungs, 'Dad, it's Willie Mays!' "Bless his heart, one of the gentlemen accepted the honor of playing the role of the future hHall of Famer. At Fritz's request, he signed a napkin, 'Willie Mays.'I saw both men smiling and laughing. I think they had as much fun as my brother. "My family will always be grateful for this unforgettably generous gesture. The man could have mater-of-factly told Fritz it was a case of mistaken identity. Instead, he went along with the harmless charade and pretended to be Fritz's hero. "This memory came back to me in full force when Willie Mays died last June at 93 [in 2024]. I remembered the man in the booth at the diner. I cried and said a prayer for both." Why I love this story I just love this story. I love it because of the power of a memory that's over 50 years old that still evokes emotion. It's what I want to see in a podcast I listen to - a story that makes me think and feel something. I love the story because of the people described in it. I found each of them to be inspiring in their own unique way. Is it just me, or can you see or hear from this article how each of the characters reflects one aspect of God's character? I'm eager to share with you what I see in each of them, but it will have to wait until episode 221 next time. Stories like this unfold around us all the time. They are everywhere - people reflecting the image and likeness of God in ways that inspire us to do the same. Closing As we close up shop for today, I'd love to hear your thoughts concerning the type of podcast you would want to listen to. I hope today's show stimulated you to think more about what you are made for. Doing so will help you experience the joy of being the person you were created to be, a person who reflects the character of God. Well, that's it for today. If you're not on our email list and would like to know in advance when new episodes drop, go to JohnCertalic.com/follow and enter your email address and name. Lastly, if you think of it, try spreading a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. It's part of God's character to do so. And I'll see you again next time. Goodbye for now. Other episodes or resources related to today's shows 163: What You and I Need Most

On that first Christmas Day, Mary treasured all its details and thought about them often. May we do the same with the Christmas story in 2024. So here's the original story told in Luke's Gospel, just as it happened: At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire. (This was the first census taken when Quirinius was governor of Syria.) All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David's ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. He took with him Mary, his fiancée, who was now obviously pregnant. And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them. That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord's glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. "Don't be afraid!" he said.  "I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of  David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger. "Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying, "Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased." When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, "Let's go to Bethlehem! Let's see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherds' story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them. ~ Luke 2: 1-20 (NIV) There you have it. The Christmas Story for 2024. Merry Christmas, everyone. ____________________ I hope you enjoyed hearing or reading the Christmas Story one more time. Here are other episodes about Christmas from our podcast library you may listen to or read. The Gift of Joy - Part 2, episode 6 Make it a Merry Christmas This Year  episode 136 Christmas with a Good Man Brings Joy  episode 135 A Christmas Gift of Silence, episode 80 The Christmas Gift of Deep Personal Connection, episode 81 A Christmas Gift of Anticipation, episode 82 The Best Christmas Gift - Be With People in Community, episode 83