Happy Endings in Love and Life: The Keys to Satisfaction

Man was never created to be an independent creature, free to do as he pleased.  In the garden, God created man to be in constant communion with him. Adam’s sole purpose was found in relationship with God. God created Eve because it was not good for Adam to be alone (Genesis 2:18).  Relationship is a core component of human nature.  Humans were made to be in constant relationship both with God and with each other. Eve broke that relationship when she took the forbidden fruit, choosing  her own way instead of God’s way, disrupting the natural state of man.  Man was no longer in constant subjection to God.  Listening to self instead of God soon became an option for living.  Obviously, this was not without consequence.  Discord and strife, instead of peace and harmony, immediately became the norm for life.  Hello to the world as we know it.

Marriage is an institution ordained by God designed to replicate the harmony in the garden.  Husband and wife entering into perfect harmony with each other; two becoming one (Genesis 2:25). However, just as it was in the garden, the husband and wife experience unity in their submission to God.  This requires mutual submission and self-sacrificial love.  Acting for yourself in opposition to your spouse results in strife.  For many, this kind of marriage seems very constraining.  It is.  You are not allowed to follow all your passions on a whim.  Marriage is a life time commitment to submitting to and loving another human being.  But in this commitment comes great joy that is not possible in relationship outside of marriage.

Desire is an important part of any relationship.  But as with any passion, desire can come and go.  Following desire can lead you down many stray paths.  Desire alone is not enough for a thriving relationship.   Commitment and security are needed.  In Song of Solomon, the bride says, “I am my beloved’s and his desire is for me (7:10).”  Without this firm sense of belonging, insecurity and doubt will destroy even the most passionate relationship.  Marriage provides a framework for desire where security and exclusivity allow it to blossom.

What about people in abusive marriages?  What about adultery?  There is no doubt that these will drastically affect and possibly shatter any union.  Strife and discord are inevitable in any relationship, no matter how committed the two spouses are to God and each other.  But my point here is not to write about the affects of sin on marriage.  My point is simply to present the best bet for a lasting love.

Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina is the story of a tragic love affair.  Anna and Vronsky are destroyed by a love that cannot satisfy.  Anna soon becomes consumed with doubt and insecurity regarding Vronky’s commitment.  Without marriage, there is no assurance of commitment or belonging, thereby making insecurity overtake passion.  Vronksy strives to retain his “manly independence” and keep a life apart from Anna.  He holds onto part of himself that he refuses to give to Anna.  This too prevents them from becoming one flesh.  Chaffing is the natural result.  Destruction instead of a blossoming love becomes the outcome of their affair.  Desire outside the bounds of marriage yields nothing but strife.

Anna and Vronsky are perhaps an extreme example of something so commonplace in our culture, love outside of marriage.  Anna and Vronsky’s destruction was in part caused by their rejection by society.  Today, “living together” is a common place behavior.  While it may not be openly destructive, as with any other self-centered behavior, it can result in nothing but inward strife and discord.  It may feel good at times, but does it satisfy? True satisfaction only comes through living a life in relationship with and submission to God, and, if that life involves the love of your life, a God centered marriage.

Why is God important?  This too goes back to the garden.  God created us to be in constant relationship with him.  Thriving is only possible through this relationship.  Veering away from God might lead to earthly pleasures but will never lead to ultimate fulfillment.  Jesus came so that we might be fulfilled in a post-fall world.

Are you engaging in a self-centered behavior right now?  Whether it is an extra-marital affair, or something like excessive drinking or viewing pornography, I have to ask you, “Does it satisfy?”  Not just on the surface, but deep down inside.   Jesus tells his followers, ”The thief comes to kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10).”  Choose life.

Rooted in Love–What We Can Learn From the Flowers

Humans have an innate appreciation for nature.  Except for the occasional bee sting or troublesome allergies, nature often enchants all of our senses.  Smelling the crisp scent of evergreens, tasting the salty sea air, feeling the soft grass against our toes, hearing the chirping of the birds, and seeing the beauty of God’s creation around us are a few examples of how we experience and enjoy nature.  It is natural and good that we thank God for giving us these good things.  But to stop with gratitude would be to limit ourselves to self-centered appreciation of God’s creation.  We should step away from our own experience of nature and engage with something much bigger than ourselves.  If we allow ourselves to listen, the flowers remind us of the vanity of our own existence and the reality of our eternal value in Christ.

Christina Rossetti, a 19th century poet, is widely known for her gloomy, yet biblically centered poetry.  Hope and despair are prevalent themes in her writing.  While Rossetti often despairs about earthly griefs, she remains grounded in her eternal hope.  In her poetry, Rossetti constantly uses nature to re-ground herself in her hope. In “Consider the Lilies of the Field (p24,25), she writes:

“Flowers preach to us if we will hear…
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read…”

Anyone can smell the flowers and take pleasure in it.  However, very few actually learn from the flowers.  Learning from the flowers takes humility and a willingness to experience nature in a way much bigger than our own personal enjoyment.  It is easiest to view the flowers in their relation to us.  “Thank you God for allowing us to enjoy these beautiful flowers.”  And that response is perfectly acceptable.  However, the flowers can teach us so much more rather than just reinforcing a me-centered existence.

It is the natural human tendency to think of our existence in terms of ourselves.  Well, duh, you may say, we are the ones existing.  However, in a God-centered universe, we are never the main focus.  We may be the ones doing the actual living, but nothing we do can give value to our lives.  Yet we are never perfect at living a God-centered life.  We forget how fleeting and invaluable we are on our own.

This is not a new problem.  In Psalm 90:12, the Psalmist asks God on behalf of the Israelites, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  Israel forgot how short their life was.  Disobedience to God’s commands is the natural result of forgetting your place in eternity.  After experiencing punishment for embarking on a self-centered lifestyle, they come crawling back to God asking him to help them remember.  In a God-centered universe, a self-centered lifestyle does not satisfy.  Especially when you are being directly punished by God!

Isaiah says, “All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.  The grass withers, the flower fades… surely the people are grass… but the word of our God will stand forever” (Isaiah 40:6-8). The quickly fading flower reminds us that our “blossom” is but a brief moment in eternity.  Hopeless can often be the result of this realization if we view our brief existence simply in terms of our life here on earth.  However, investing in an eternal hope through Jesus Christ allows us to live a hope-filled life while here on earth.  We live full lives here on earth, all the while knowing our ultimate value is not found in this world.  Nature can remind us of how small we are on our own and allow us to re-ground ourselves in truth—that true value can only come through God.

But the flowers’ teaching does not stop there.  They remind us of something much greater than our own insignificance.  They remind us of God’s great love for us in spite of our puny existence.  In Luke, Jesus says “If God so clothes the grass.. how much more will he clothe you(Luke 12:28).”  Nature IS beautiful! Even though a flower only blooms for a short time, it is none the less beautiful! So it is with us.  Even though we are seemingly insignificant, God values us.  Even though our life is but a moment, God concerns himself with the details of our life.

In her poem, “Consider the Lilies of the Field,” Rossetti continues,

“Flowers ….
Tell of his love who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish one small seed.”

The flowers do not just tell us truths about ourselves, but truths about God, too!

Contrary to what you may be thinking, this is not just a happy go lucky post.   Life is not just daisies and roses.  Even with a firm understanding of your eternal value and God’s love for you, life sucks sometimes.  Sadness is a natural part of life.  From Rossetti’s poetry, it seems like she was seriously depressed most of the time.  We would be lying to ourselves if we tried to never experience sadness.  Even Jesus wept.  But at the same time, we should never be guided by our emotions.  When experiencing despair, we should always anchor ourselves in our eternal hope.  Rossetti got through her darkest moments because of her eternal hope.  So also should we, in moments of despair, cling to the One that can never be taken away from us, Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Taking a moment to listen to the flowers can help reground you in what is truly valuable.

Whether it’s in the simple hustle and bustle of everyday life or one of your darkest moments, grounding yourself in Christ’s deep love for you gives you strength to carry on.  However, being reminded of your true value in Christ is worthless if your actions do not change.   Taking a moment to listen to the flowers can help you live your life in a meaningful way.

So next time you are outside, stop and listen to the flowers.  What are they saying to you?

“In this world you will have tribulation.  But take heart, I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

*Quotations taken from “Christina Rossetti: Selected Poems.”  Penguin Classics.




After Malachi Before Matthew: Long Silences and Christmas

The Harvest is past, summer is ended and we are not saved. –Jeremiah 8:20

A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. – Isaiah 40:3

When I was growing up I was always picked to play a shepherd in the manger scene. I’m a red headed, Caucasian male with not a drop of blood tracing back to the Holy Land, but I could stand still and be quiet (more or less) so I was perfect for the part. Luke 2 was a favorite chapter to act out during grade school Christmas programs, and for the past two decades, on every first Sunday of December I’ve watched the lighting of the first candle of Advent. From a young age I’ve performed rituals that cultivate anticipation.

Growing up I sang lots of Christmas carols about the coming of Christ, but never about the four hundred years of silence previous to his arrival. There was an emphasis on preparedness for Christ’s coming into the world, but there is a significant difference between anticipation for the month of December and waiting four hundred years. How long can you anticipate something without an intermittent status report or confirmation? What is it like to live in four centuries of silence?

I imagine my ancient ancestors, who didn’t anticipate a Messiah, were more familiar with silence then I am. I live in a world where expectation is celebrated every year for itself. Every Sunday the church is preaching, teaching, and singing about God’s love, his works, and his promises for the future. What would it be like for it all that to gradually go silent? And how long does it take for silence to encourage doubt—for it to make me rush to something talkative and loud? Israel once begged Moses for God to not speak to them “lest they should die.” But how long does he remain silent before you feel the anticipation of non existence?

Emmanuel –God with us—hasn’t always been a comfortable concept. “God with us” was a terrifying reality when Israel stood before Mt. Sinai. It was probably a distant memory for the anointed King David when he roamed the wilderness as an outlaw. For Ahab it was a rouge curse as Elijah cut the throats of the prophets of Baal in the light of heavenly fire. Emmanuel is a heavy reality—inviting a submission that can’t be volunteered by a hardened heart, and the obedient are always driven by Kings and nations into the wild places of the land. As Spurgeon says “men will allow God to be everywhere but on his throne.”

Throughout the Old Testament Israel’s remnant is pushed into the margins; sometimes the wilderness or as some exiled minority in a foreign city. When this happened Jerusalem became their orientation—it was the city of the temple, the place where God met with man. Inside the Holy of Holies God’s presence dwelled until it was pushed by disobedience into the tongues of the prophets. They prophesied to the nation and were killed by the nation. Zachariah is killed between the altar and the sanctuary. The reader finishes the fourth chapter of Malachi and then it goes quiet.

Four hundred years, roughly the same amount of time between Joseph and Moses. This would have been similar to the generations of Israelite slaves who slowly forgot the God of Jacob as they sweat under the whips of the Pharaoh. This would be four hundred years of building a nation that isn’t their own and giving birth to slave children threatened by population control. Four hundred years in subjection to Egyptian gods, Egyptian rule, and Egyptian scorn with no word from God.

Malachi stops writing and the situations are similar. Israel never regains sovereignty from foreign nations and is swapped between the Gentile kingdoms of the Persians, the Greeks, and then the Romans. Four hundred years—the excruciating pause before Incarnation.

From the barren places of the earth God sends a wild man. John the Baptist emerges—the voice of the nation’s remnant. As if the marginalized, abused presence of God in Israel was shaking with impatience John jumps out of the wilderness with a voice loud enough to be heard across the divide of four centuries. A voice so loud and direct that it could be heard through the span of history, from the ears of Moses to Elijah to the Jew under the Romans washing for repentance in the Jordan River. The spirit of the slain righteous shouts the culmination of their prophecies—the flesh blood reality of Emmanuel.

“He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, Born of the Virgin Mary, Suffered under Pontius Pilate was crucified dead and buried. On the third day he rose from the dead: he ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty…”

There he sits. We wait one season at a time as creation groans. We anticipate and suffer in silence. We light the candles and count out the years, knowing that when he comes, it will be exactly at the right time.

Phone Booths and Infinity

‘I shall live forever and ever!’ he cried grandly. ‘I shall find out thousands and thousands of things. I shall find out about people and creatures and everything that grows—and I shall never stop making Magic.’ –Colin from The Secret Garden 

When I walk down the street I keep my eyes open for phone booths. I find one, go inside and pick up the Dex yellow pages swinging on a silver line just above the floor that’s littered with dead leaves and old soda cans. I skim the pages of the old book— it was once used for its powers of alphabetical lists and orientation. Now it hangs like a jaundiced corpse, forgotten on a scaffold.

The yellow pages advertise barber shops and jewelry stores from the downtown district to urban sprawl. There are smiling, family-owned RV companies and car dealerships showing new cars, now wrinkled with the damp. I turn to the white pages and flip through the list of names—Kari Bush, Gary Caldwell, Steve Eliot, Terri Hadbrook, Rhonda Jerome…

I stop in the J section and notice that there are fifteen Clyde Jones’ listed in the area. I can never predict what any one Clyde Jones will be like, but I know that each of them have unique experiences of life. Every Clyde has a different perspective that changes with his address. Every Jones is as unique in design as the list of phone numbers.

An imagination can wake up and stretch in these musty pages. Donna Thomas on page 123 could have been the old woman I saw in Vons, sampling seedless grapes. Rick Tindol might be the squat man who cut me off in Sunday morning traffic—making me swear under my breath before pulling into the church parking lot. Derrik Uzaro might be an excessively tan man who lives on Belfast Avenue and refurbishes cherry red Mustang convertibles.

In the H section Jose Hernandez could have one wife, two kids and a three bedroom house on Fairhaven Street where his four terriers bark all night. The barking might drive Gerry Reesus on page 141 crazy. This might be why Gerry always dumps his lawn clippings on the Hernandez side of the fence.


The white pages are like reading the first chapters of Chronicles—the most skipped part of the Bible. Those verses are full of monotonous, outdated information—“so and so was the father of another guy, and that guy is the father of another name not remembered by anyone.” The Bible is not content with just the big names like Abraham and David; it dedicates chapters to names as irrelevant as the ones in the white pages.

List of names are like collection of blank slates, and they’re filled in by knowledge of a personal life. If I imagine the daily life of Clyde Jones, Jenny Smith, and Jose Hernandez  I find three separate sets of cares, expressions, likes, interests, loves, senses of humor, worries, habits, addictions, regrets, evils, and secrets. This is not to mention the various arrays of eye colors, facial expressions, hair styles, and liver conditions that paint the canvas of a named life. These names form human contact and relationships, moving and reacting like molecules in the city centers. Lists always give way to more lists—individuals turn into nations. The etceteras go to infinity.

White pages confine and shackle a name to a number and address. Insults and categories are also used to confine—they overshadow the immensity of a name. “Doug Ryan” could be the signature of an artist, architect, construction worker, lawyer, or janitor. He could sing like an angel, look ugly, score low on an IQ test, or have a “beaming” personality. He could be a heavy drinker or a religious zealot. When I call Doug Ryan an idiot, liberal, redneck, atheist, obese, pretentious, clown, gay, or drunk and leave satisfied with any of these as a wholesale description, then I demean the expansive space— I contain the endless possibility that a name accommodates when it’s first given.


It isn’t surprising that people assort and group infinite things. We get overwhelmed—it’s in our nature to classify. We catalogue the night sky like the white pages with constellations. We try to contain Nature in phylum, kingdoms, flora, and fauna. We generalize miles of vegetation and mountain ranges in paintings, photos, and video. The mysteries and statutes of God are assorted into our theologies, sermons, music, and conferences. It’s natural to try and comprehend inexhaustible things, but once they’re contained, minds become restless.

I continue thumbing through the Dex pages. This is a magical book in a glass treasure chest. In it I find a cast list of players in a drama full of love, hatred, beauty, murder, angst, exhales of sobs, blowing of birthday candles, memory, divorce, marriage, suicide, birth, accidents, romance, gunshots, lust, intrigue, cardiac arrest, miraculous recoveries, cancer, drugs, alienation, community, play, work, betrayal, and redemption.

I take a deep breath. I fill in the gaps with imagination. I read it like a biblical genealogy. If Ur of the Chaldeans had a phone book, Abram and Sarai would have been two blank names in the registry.

It shows God’s imagination is as strong as his sense of humor when he is willing to make two names in the white pages a mother and father of nations.


Pull Question: Esther

How do the book, characters and circumstances of Esther point us to Christ?

It seems that a major qualification for a book in the Bible should be some mention of God, Christ, the Scriptures, or even prayer. The book of Esther has none of these. Yet the story clearly records God’s extraordinary deliverance of his chosen people from annihilation, and foreshadows our ultimate delivery from death through Christ’s victory on the cross.

The character of Esther mirrors the character of Christ. Esther is willing to sacrifice herself—risking a potential death sentence by going before the king’s throne unsummoned—in order to save her people. She is more concerned with the overall good than with her own life: “I will go to the king, though it is against the law, and if I perish, I perish.” (4:16) Likewise, Christ is willing to perform a miserable task—die a gruesome death on a cross—in order to save his people.

Granted, Esther is not without faults. She goes to the king only after Mordecai rather brutally points out that, even as the queen, she would not escape the upcoming slaughter of the Jews. He tells her, “Do not think to yourself that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish.” (3:13-14) While she is frightened, Esther does obey Mordecai, relying on his wisdom to set her path in the right direction. By looking to his guidance, Esther shows wisdom herself.

Similarly, Christ is also obedient to his Father. He does not anticipate the cross with joy, but is more concerned with obeying God than with maintaining his own comfort. Though he asks the Lord to come up with another way to deliver humanity, he willingly goes: “Not as I will, but as you will.” (Matt 26:39) Esther mirrors Christ’s obedience and consequent wisdom.

Not only does Esther act as a Christ figure, but the entire book mirrors—or perhaps more adequately, foreshadows—the salvation story. Paul writes in Romans that “we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good for those who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) The truth of this statement is demonstrated throughout the Bible, and Esther’s story is no exception. Hamon means to slaughter all the Jews in Persia; instead, the Jews are able to take “an eye for an eye” from their enemies, and Hamon is hanged on his own gallows.

In Sunday school, I used to sing a kids’ song with these lyrics: “From bad to good, in all things. God works for good, in all things. What’s meant for evil God turns it around from bad to good, yeah.” (Dean-O and the Dynamos) Christ’s death is the ultimate example of God working from bad to good. For the disciples, Jesus’ death must have been the worst event of their lives. They had given up everything—family, livelihood, the respect of the righteous religious leaders—to follow the man they thought was the Messiah. His death represented utter failure—the new world they had hoped for would not come into fruition.

Yet in reality, it was the best event that has ever taken place in the history of the world. It saved mankind from itself. Even though the book of Esther makes no mention of God, his presence and the faith of his people are visibly present, from the moment of Vashti’s demotion to Hamon’s execution.

God’s Word: Hollywood Style

Last week the Wall Street Journal featured  an article, Hollywood’s New Bible Stories, about big name filmmakers’ increasing interest in Scripture as source material for a new wave of genre films.  Here is the central point:

There are compelling economic reasons for Hollywood to embrace the Good Book. The studios are increasingly reliant on source material with a built-in audience, something the Bible—the best-selling book in history—certainly has. And like the comic-book superheroes that movie companies have relied on for the past decade, biblical stories are easily recognizable to both domestic and the all-important foreign audiences. What’s more, they’re free: Studios don’t need to pay expensive licensing fees to adapt stories and characters already in the public domain.  With floods, plagues, burning bushes and parting seas, Bible movies make great vehicles for big-budget special effects, a key selling point for a wide swath of audience members. Continue reading God’s Word: Hollywood Style

Twisted Stories

Oversimplification. Exaggeration. Outright fabrication. Where will you find all this? Aside from the obvious answers, I’d like to add a couple more: Church sanctuaries during the Sunday morning sermon. Bible studies. Youth groups. I can’t count the number of times a Bible story has been subtly (or not so subtly) tweaked to better convey a point the speaker wishes to make. I’ll bet you’ve had similar experiences: Maybe it’s David, the master of bare-handed bear and lion wrestling,  portrayed as a tiny weakling (think Tiny Tim without the crutches), or maybe it’s this dude who’s been crippled his entire life being held up as a world-class example of whiny whiners. A complex individual who really existed is twisted, warped, and reduced to a single characteristic (which may or may not even be true), all for the sake of making a point. Continue reading Twisted Stories

God’s Grandeur and Evangelical Nonchalance

Grand language is a rarity these days, not only among bloggers, but also among the politicians and pastors from whom we used to expect it. Culturally, soaring rhetoric is endangered if not extinct.

John McWhorter, for one, has noted this cultural trend. In an interview with Mars Hill Audio in 2003, he locates the loss of formal public language in the U.S in a post-1960s suspicion that lofty rhetoric is detached and untrustworthy. This is problematic for evangelicals, who must attend to the grandeur of God, but are tempted to distance themselves from the speech appropriate to it.

Talking like your culture is hardly blameworthy in itself.  Evangelicals are committed to the accessibility and availability of the gospel: we know that Jesus is for everyone, no matter how rudimentary their vocabulary. We glory in the perspicuity of the things necessary for our salvation. Furthermore, directness of speech may be seen as an admission of God’s transcendence: if all of our language is unworthy, why not speak as simply as possible? Plain and humble words are certainly better than the distractions of convoluted talk; the Lord’s Prayer is a paragon of plainspokenness before God. The Reformers sought to drive home that, thanks to the mediation of Christ, God could be accessed anywhere by any one, not only by those with the “right” language. If there is indeed a priesthood of all believers, then the acceptability of our worship cannot depend on having the right words.

Even so, there are more ‘right words’ available to us than we care to use. We are provided with grand language concerning God in Scripture; such formality sits strangely in the evangelical ethos, however, even when Biblical. I have real suspicions of paraphrase of the Bible into the vernacular when the passage warrants, or even demands, a grand style with which we find ourselves uncomfortable. Some things just don’t paraphrase well. When a pastor tries to evoke the more nuanced or exalted aspects of God, I see the poverty of the commonly-used casual, conversational style. It is somewhat surprising that Evangelicals, with our stout commitment to the value of Scripture as the living word of God, seem unconcerned with whether we acknowledge the full range of language the Scripture writers employ.

It really is a different thing to say “God cares!” than to say “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”  With the soaring adulation of the Davidic Psalms, the theological nuance and resounding rhetorical height of the Pauline Epistles (the beginning of Ephesians 1 and Philippians 2 are striking examples), in Mary’s Magnificat and God’s transcendent promises to Abraham, the language of the Bible evokes true things about our relationship with God – truths about his overawing excellence, because of which our brothers have taken off their shoes, fallen on their faces, bemoaned their uncleanliness, been consumed by fire, or glowed for days after.

Even in translation, the word of God is often a word of grandeur or magnificence – something foreign to an Evangelical vocabulary. We lose much of what is being said or taking place in Scripture when we unyeildingly collapsed it into conversational prose. I worry that our confident casualness of speech prevents our recognizing the grandness of God by practicing grandness in the language about Him – a grandness modeled for us in Scripture. Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem “God’s Grandeur” describes divine glory as “flam[ing] forth like shining from shook foil” in all the world.  It may be that we – with our language as relaxed as our Hawaiian shirts – dim our understanding of God’s grandeur by avoiding grand language about him. ‘

How to Change Your Mind

[Note: Since other writing projects took up my time today, I’ve decided to repost this entry from last November. Its one of the few entries that I’ve written that I consider to be worth rereading (and reimplementing).]
This post contains a four step process that could transform your life by, quite literally, changing your mind.
After reading the entire post the vast majority of readers will snicker at such a hyperbolic claim and never implement the method I outline. A smaller number will consider the advice intriguing, my assertion only a slight exaggeration, and will also never implement the method. A tiny minority, however, will recognize the genius behind the recommendation and apply it to their own life. This group will later say that my claim was an understatement.
This post is written for those people.
In late August I stumbled across a variation of the four steps in a blog post by Fred Sanders. I implemented his recommendation that day and have followed the process almost daily since then. Last month I had the pleasure of meeting Sanders in person and telling him how his post had transformed my life. My hope is that at least one other person will follow this advice and experience the same transformative affect.
Before I reveal the four steps I want to reiterate that while the advice could transform your life, it most likely will not. As with most life-altering advice, it is simple, easy to implement, and even easier to ignore. Statistically speaking, the odds are great that you’ll ignore this advice. Therefore I encourage you to stop reading now; you’ll only be wasting your time reading further.
For the one or two people who will find this useful, the four steps that will transform your worldview are:

Continue reading How to Change Your Mind