Insight for Today

Read Philippians 4:12–13

Shakespeare called it “the green-eyed monster.” Bacon admitted it “keeps no holidays.” Horace declared that “tyrants never invented a greater torment.” Barrie said it “is the most corroding of the vices.” Sheridan referred to it in his play, The Critic, when he wrote, “There is not a passion so strongly rooted in the human heart as [this].” Philip Bailey, the eloquent English poet of yesteryear, vividly described it as “a coal [that] comes hissing hot from hell.”

Read Ecclesiastes 12:1–2

Disorientation is the pits. When you travel a lot (like airline personnel) you must deal with it. When you fight deadlines as days run into nights (like tax consultants and publishing editors and pastors) you must work out ways to cope with it. When you are confined to tight places or inescapable spaces (like astronauts or prisoners or victims of confining illnesses)—again, that old bugaboo is there ready to bite, leaving you in the wake of depression or one of its emotional relatives. It happens frequently after people retire.

Read Proverbs 27:9

Webster defines the word “cordial” as of or relating to the heart: vital, tending to revive, cheer, or invigorate, heartfelt, gracious. That’s really a mouthful; in fact, that’s worth a few minutes of our time together. Being cordial starts from the heart, as I see it. How do we project cordiality? In answer to that question, allow me to offer four special ingredients:

Read Amos 7:14–15

There is only one you. In our overly-populated, identity-crisis era it is easy to forget this. Individuality is played down. We are asked to conform to the “system.”