Tag: Philippians 4:11

When Success Isn’t Enough: Finding the Way, the Truth, and the Life

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When Everything Looked Right—but Something Was Missing

When I was only twenty-three years old, my life changed forever.

I was serving on active duty as a second lieutenant in the United States Army and the Battalion Maintenance Officer, a job normally held by a senior captain. By almost every outward measure, life was good.

I had a beautiful and intelligent wife. Our first child had been born in January of that year. Professionally, things were going extremely well. My maintenance program had received a commendable rating during the annual general inspection, and because of that achievement, I was named an Outstanding Junior Officer in my Army division.

I was ambitious, detail-oriented, competitive, and something of a perfectionist. I worked hard. I wanted to excel. I wanted to do things right.

And yet, underneath all the accomplishments, I knew something was wrong.

There was an emptiness I could not explain.

Beginning during my university years, I had tried many of the things our culture says will bring happiness. I tried drinking, partying, relationships, material possessions, social connections, and surrounding myself with the “right” people.

Some of those things provided temporary enjoyment, but none of them filled the emptiness inside me.

Something was missing.

I just didn’t know what it was.

Discovering That Achievement Cannot Save Us

At the time, I was attending church. There I noticed a group of young men about my age who seemed to possess something I did not have.

There was a peace about them.

They had a sense of direction and purpose that intrigued me. Eventually, I began attending a Bible study with them.

That Bible study helped change the direction of my life.

I began to understand that the Bible was more than an ancient religious book. It was God’s Word—a guide for life that addressed the questions, struggles, failures, hopes, and emptiness of the human heart.

I discovered that I was not here by accident.

God had created me for a purpose.

More importantly, I learned that Jesus Christ loved me and desired a personal relationship with me.

But there was a problem.

Sin separated me from God.

1. I Realized I Had a Sin Problem

The Bible says:

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.”

Romans 3:23

That word all included me.

I had spent much of my young life trying to be successful, disciplined, responsible, and good. But Christianity is not based on whether we are better than somebody else.

It is based on God’s perfect standard.

And no one reaches that standard.

Not even a perfectionist.

I could not save myself simply by trying harder or living what I considered to be a good life.

2. I Learned There Was a Penalty for Sin

Scripture says:

“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Romans 6:23

Sin has consequences.

But notice the second half of that verse.

God offers a gift.

Salvation is not something we purchase, achieve, deserve, or earn. It is something God freely offers through Jesus Christ.

3. I Discovered God’s Incredible Promise

Perhaps no verse summarizes God’s love more clearly than John 3:16:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son,

that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

 John 3:16

God did not look at humanity’s brokenness and turn away.

He came toward us.

He loved us enough to send His Son.

And that included me.

It includes you too.

4. I Learned God Had Already Made Provision

The Bible explains how we respond to God’s gift:

“That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus,

and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.”

Romans 10:9

The answer was not another achievement.

It wasn’t another promotion.

It wasn’t becoming more religious.

It wasn’t trying harder to become a better person.

It was trusting Jesus Christ.

The Prayer That Changed the Direction of My Life

I reached the place where I understood that I needed Christ.

I prayed a prayer much like this:

“Jesus, I know that I am a sinner. I believe that You died for my sins and rose from the grave so that I might have eternal life with You. I repent of my sins and ask You to come into my heart and life. Take control of my words, thoughts, and actions. I place my trust in You for my salvation. I accept You as my Lord and Savior and receive Your free gift of eternal life. Amen.”

There was nothing magical about the wording of the prayer.

The important thing was the decision of my heart.

I placed my faith in Jesus Christ.

And the direction of my life changed.

What Happened After I Became a Christian?

My life did not suddenly become perfect.

Far from it.

Over the years I have made mistakes. I have made poor decisions. I have failed at times—occasionally miserably.

Becoming a Christian did not make me perfect.

It gave me a Savior.

It gave me direction.

It gave me a foundation.

It gave me Someone to turn to when life became difficult.

The Bible became a source of principles for daily living. Prayer became more than a religious exercise. Faith became something I could carry into marriage, family, career decisions, disappointments, grief, uncertainty, illness, and all the unexpected turns of life.

Most importantly, I learned that I am never truly alone.

The peace I had tried to find through achievement, recognition, relationships, possessions, and experiences could finally be found where it had been all along—in a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Can an Intelligent Person Believe in Christianity?

Sometimes people ask whether an educated, thoughtful, intellectual, or scientifically minded person can believe in God.

Of course they can.

History is filled with scholars, scientists, philosophers, writers, physicians, professors, military leaders, and intellectuals who have believed in God.

Perhaps the more useful question is not, “Can an intelligent person believe?”

Instead, we might ask:

Why have so many intelligent people chosen to believe?

Christian faith does not require us to stop thinking.

God gave us minds and expects us to use them.

Christianity makes extraordinary claims about God, humanity, morality, history, forgiveness, eternity, and the person of Jesus Christ. Those claims deserve thoughtful examination.

Faith and reason need not be enemies.

For me, the journey began by examining what the Bible said about who I was, who God is, and what Jesus Christ had done for me.

Eventually, the question became very personal:

What am I going to do with Jesus?

Jesus Is Still the Answer

Today’s world offers more information than any generation in human history, yet people remain confused about some of life’s most basic questions.

Who am I?

Why am I here?

What gives life meaning?

What happens when I die?

Is there absolute truth?

Can I really know God?

Jesus answered these questions with one of the most remarkable statements in Scripture:

“Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

John 14:6 KJV

Notice that Jesus did not merely say He knew the way.

He said:

“I am the way.”

He did not merely claim to teach truth.

He said:

“I am the truth.”

And He did not merely offer advice about how to live.

He said:

“I am the life.”

The Way When You Feel Lost

Life can take unexpected turns.

Careers change.

Relationships change.

Health changes.

People we love leave us.

Plans fail.

Dreams sometimes disappear.

There will be moments when the carefully drawn map of your life no longer seems to make sense.

Jesus says:

I am the way.

You may not know what tomorrow holds, but you can know the One who walks with you into tomorrow.

The Truth When the World Is Confusing

We live in a culture filled with competing voices.

Everyone seems to have an opinion about truth, morality, happiness, success, identity, and purpose.

Opinions change.

Cultural standards change.

Popular ideas come and go.

But God’s Word remains.

Jesus says:

I am the truth.

When doubts surround you, return to His Word.

When the voices of the world become confusing, listen again to the voice of Christ.

His truth becomes an anchor for the mind and heart.

The Life When Your Heart Feels Empty

At twenty-three, I had many of the things I thought should make a person happy.

Yet something was missing.

Success could not fill the emptiness.

Recognition could not fill it.

Relationships could not completely fill it.

Possessions could not fill it.

Experiences could not fill it.

Jesus could.

He still can.

Jesus says:

I am the life.

The deepest hunger of the human soul is not ultimately satisfied by what we accomplish, accumulate, possess, or experience.

We were created to know God.

You Do Not Have to Earn Your Way to God

Maybe you have spent much of your life trying to be good enough.

Successful enough.

Religious enough.

Generous enough.

Respectable enough.

Accomplished enough.

But salvation is not a medal awarded for achievement.

It is a gift received by faith.

Jesus already opened the door.

Scripture says:

“For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”
Romans 10:13

That word whosoever includes you.

Three Things to Remember Today

1. Success cannot satisfy the deepest need of the soul.
Accomplishments are wonderful, but they were never designed to replace a relationship with God.

2. You do not have to become perfect before coming to Jesus.
You come to Christ because you are not perfect. Salvation is God’s gift of grace, not a reward for flawless living.

3. Jesus offers direction, truth, purpose, and eternal life.
When the world leaves you uncertain about which road to follow, remember His words: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

How About You?

Have you ever personally placed your faith in Jesus Christ?

Not simply attended church.

Not merely believed that God exists.

Not merely tried to live a good life.

Have you trusted Christ as your Savior?

That was the decision I faced as a young Army officer many years ago.

Everything on the outside looked successful.

But God knew what was missing on the inside.

Maybe today He is speaking to you about the same thing.

You can come to Him exactly where you are.

A Prayer of Faith

Lord Jesus, I know that I have sinned and cannot save myself. I believe You died for my sins and rose again. I turn from trusting in myself and place my faith in You. Forgive me, guide me, and become the Lord of my life. Thank You for being the Way when I am lost, the Truth when I am confused, and the Life my soul needs. Help me walk with You each day and trust You with both this life and eternity.

Amen.

Today’s Thought

You may spend years searching for purpose through achievement, possessions, relationships, education, status, or success only to discover that the deepest need of the human heart cannot be filled by something.

It can only be filled by Someone.

His name is Jesus.

“And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”

Jeremiah 29:13 KJV

Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license. You are welcome to share or adapt it provided proper credit is given to the author. 

The Last Cup

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Blog, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, Writer's Life, Writing1 Comment

There is a particular kind of silence that hangs over an office break room around two in the afternoon. Everybody’s running on the fumes of lunch, and the coffee pot sits there like a small, sacred machine holding the rest of the day together.

My Story

I have stood in front of that pot more times than I can count, staring down into it, watching that last half inch of coffee swirl like it’s got something to say. Just enough for one more cup. Just enough for me. And if I pour it, that’s it. Pot’s empty. Filter’s cold and used up in the trash. I walk back to my desk three minutes richer and never think about it again.

Or I don’t.

There’s another way to stand in that room. You look at that half cup and you think about whoever’s coming in behind you, some tired soul who’s had a morning worse than yours, who was counting on that same pot the same way you were. And something in you says, leave it. Pour a new one. Wipe the counter down while it drips, and walk away without telling a soul you did it.

Nobody hands out medals for a fresh pot of coffee. Nobody’s writing your name on a plaque in the break room. That’s exactly the point. It’s a small enough thing that it costs you something real, your own three minutes, your own small comfort, and it’s also small enough that you could walk right past the moment and never notice you’d failed it.

I think that’s where most of us live, somewhere between the two responses, not cruel, just hurried. Just looking out for our own cup first, the way most everybody does, the way the world kind of trains you to. Nothing evil in it. Just narrow. Just small.

Scripture

“Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.” Philippians 2:3 (KJV)

Paul didn’t write to the Philippians about coffee pots, of course. He wrote about a Savior who had every right in heaven to keep what was His, and instead poured Himself out to the very last drop for people who never asked Him to. He didn’t hold His hands over His own portion. He walked into the empty room of our need and filled it, and then He wiped the counter down and told nobody to make a fuss over it.

That’s the strange math of grace. It doesn’t announce itself. It shows up in the little decisions nobody’s grading you on, the ones only you and God will ever know about. A fresh pot of coffee. A kind word held back when a sharp one would’ve felt better. A little patience spent on someone who wasn’t even watching.

Most days I fail that test in ways too small to notice and never atone for. But every now and then, standing in front of that half-empty pot, something quiet in me remembers who filled the pot for me first. And I brew a new one.

Prayer

Lord, soften the hurried places in me today. Let me see past my own cup to the ones who are coming in behind me, tired and thirsty in ways I may never know. Give me a heart low enough to notice small chances at grace, and the humility to take them without needing anyone to see. Amen.

Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license. You are welcome to share or adapt it provided proper credit is given to the author.

The Better Choice

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Blog, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

The Better Choice

Rachel had the whole weekend mapped out before her old college friends even packed their bags. Linens washed, flowers cut, a dinner planned down to the last dish. She wanted it perfect, the way she wanted most things.

Her sister Amanda showed up to help and got handed a list before she’d shed her coat.

Then the women arrived, tired from the road and loud with laughter, and something in the living room shifted. Nicole told stories nobody remembered right. Jennifer pulled up old photographs. Melissa talked about aging parents and marriages that had worn thin in places and dreams that hadn’t died, just gone quiet. Marie shared how her husband had left her for a younger woman.

Amanda set her phone face down on the table and stayed.

Rachel ran the kitchen alone. Sauce boiling over, a missing ingredient, her phone buzzing like a hive. She could hear the laughter over the kitchen island. She could see her sister sitting easy among the guests, and something hard and tired rose up in her.

She came out in her apron, spoon in hand, and said what tired people say.

The room went quiet. Nicole touched Amanda’s arm and told Rachel gently that nobody came for a perfect table. Jennifer offered to order pizza. Melissa already had the schedule on her phone. Marie smiled.

Rachel looked at the room. The meal unfinished, the list still long, and four women she’d loved for twenty years sitting right there, telling the truth to each other.

She took off the apron. Silenced the phone. Sat down beside her sister.

Dinner came late and simple. Nobody minded.

Scripture

“But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:42, KJV from the story of Mary and Martha found in the Bible, the gospel of Luke (Luke 10:38–42), where Jesus visits the home of two sisters in a village.

Reflection

Rachel wasn’t doing anything wrong. Martha wasn’t either. Jesus never scolded her for the work. He named what the work had cost her: she’d grown worried, distracted, resentful. The serving had eaten the peace right out of her.

That’s the trouble with good things. They don’t announce themselves as thieves. They just quietly take the seat meant for something better.

Mary chose to sit down and listen. That choice still costs something now. A phone left face down. A few dishes left in the sink. The nerve to believe the world won’t end if the list stays unfinished a while longer.

There’s always another task waiting like a dog at the door. But some moments only pass through once. A friend across the table. An evening with family. A quiet minute with God. The better choice isn’t doing more. It’s stopping long enough to notice who’s already in the room.

Prayer

Heavenly Father,
My days fill up fast with tasks and noise, and even my good work can turn to worry in my hands. Teach me to set it down when it’s time. Let me be as present with You and with those I love as I am busy for them. Give me the sense to choose peace over perfection, and never let my serving crowd out the sitting still. 

In Jesus’ name, 
Amen.

When Money Promises More Than It Can Give

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The Life Jessica Thought She Wanted

I have known Jessica since she was a girl of four, barefoot in her mama’s yard, telling anybody who’d listen about the house she was going to have one day. Biggest one on the block, she said. A pool shaped like the state of Texas and a car with a name too fancy for a child to pronounce right. Most kids dream in crayon. Jessica dreamed in blueprints.

She grew up and went and got it too. The right school, the right sorority, a young lawyer for a husband who’d passed the bar the same summer she did her hair different for the wedding photos. But when he took a job defending folks who couldn’t pay him, she looked at him different. Called it a lack of ambition. Filed the papers before the ink dried on their first anniversary card.

Two years later she married a cardiologist, a good man raising two kids from a marriage that hadn’t worked out either. “He can provide,” she told her sister, like she was reading off a spec sheet. “I like him fine. Reckon I’ll grow to love him over time.”

For a stretch of years it looked like she’d won. The mansion sat up on the hill like a promise kept. The car in the driveway caught the morning sun just right. She had a membership card that opened doors most people never even see.

Then somewhere past forty, the process server showed up at that big front door with papers in his hand. Her husband had found somebody younger, thirty years old, and decided the vows were negotiable after all.

The mansion went the way mansions go when the marriage does. Jessica found herself in a little apartment, dusting off a resume ten years old, doing arithmetic on the kitchen table late at night. Car lease. Rent. Club dues she was too proud to cancel. A trip to the resort at St. John in the US Virgin Islands already paid for that she couldn’t back out of without everybody asking why.

Everything she’d built her peace on turned out to be sand the whole time. She just hadn’t waded out far enough yet to feel it move.

Scripture for Today

“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” – Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)

The Trap of Trusting in Wealth

Now I want to be careful here, because money itself never asked to be the villain. It puts groceries on the table and a roof over a family and it can do a world of good in a hurting world if you let it. The trouble starts when money quits being a tool and starts being an identity. When it’s not just what’s in your pocket anymore but what you think you’re worth.

That kind of hunger never eats a full meal. There’s always a bigger house down the road, a S-class to replace your E-class Mercedes in somebody else’s driveway, a neighborhood with a nicer yard art. You can chase that horizon your whole life and die still running toward it.

And here’s the cruel joke of it. The very things we buy for comfort end up costing us our rest. We lie awake guarding what we own instead of enjoying what we’ve been given. What was supposed to set us free starts locking the doors from the inside.

Money can buy a lot of comfort. It has never once bought permanence. It cannot promise a marriage will hold, or a heart will heal, or a person will stay through the hard seasons. Only one voice in this world has ever made that promise and kept it.

The Wealth That Cannot Be Taken Away

Hebrews doesn’t just tell us to quit coveting like that’s some kind of discipline we can white-knuckle our way through. It hands us the reason underneath it. God said, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” That’s not a suggestion for better living. That’s bedrock.

Being content doesn’t mean you stop working or stop dreaming or stop trying to do better for your family. It means your joy quits living and dying by what’s sitting in your driveway or your bank account.

A small apartment with peace in it beats a mansion with dread creeping through every hallway. A modest car driven without fear of losing it beats a luxury one that’s really just a nice cage.

Real wealth is knowing Somebody stays when everything else packs up and leaves. Jobs end. People we love disappoint us, sometimes on purpose. Money comes in like the tide and goes right back out again just as fast. Possessions wear thin, the money for international dream vacations runs out, and the invitations stop coming eventually, every single time.

But God stays. That part never changes.

Peace shows up the day we stop asking dollars to do a job only the Lord was ever built to do. When we trust Him instead, we find out what freedom actually tastes like. Contentment that isn’t for sale, and can’t be repossessed either.

Three Takeaways

  1. Ask yourself honestly what your peace is really standing on. Is it God, or is it your paycheck, your title, your address?
  2. Practice thanks today, right where you are. Don’t wait for the next thing to arrive before you’re grateful for what’s already in your hands.
  3. Remember what can’t be taken. Houses burn, cars wreck, and marriages sometimes end even when we did our best. God’s presence and His promises are the one inheritance nobody can repossess.

Prayer

Father,
Forgive me for the times I put my trust in money and things instead of You. Teach me gratitude for what I already hold in my hands. Remind me, on the hard nights especially, that You promised never to leave me nor forsake me, and that Your word has never once come back void.
Amen.

 

Finding Peace in the Right Now

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The Woman Who Was Waiting for Tomorrow

There is a particular kind of tired that has nothing to do with sleep. Addy knew it well. She sat at her desk one afternoon with a spreadsheet glowing in front of her, numbers lined up neat as tombstones, and she could not have told you a single figure on it. Her mind had wandered off somewhere down the road, chasing a life that had not happened yet.

She ran the list the way folks do when they are dissatisfied and do not quite know why. The job paid too little and asked too much. The apartment had grown smaller every year without changing size. The savings account looked thin under the light. Friends who used to know her secrets now only knew her weather, fine, busy, hanging in there. And the man she loved, the one whose coffee she still made every morning, had gone quiet on the subject of forever.

She had a sentence she repeated to herself so often it had worn smooth, like a stone carried in a pocket. If I could just get the promotion. If we could just move somewhere better. If he would just ask me to marry him. When I finish my MBA. Then I could be happy.

Happiness kept its address just around the next corner. It always does, for people like Addy. For people like most of us.

The Cross-Stitch on Grandma’s Wall

One evening she drove out to see her grandmother, the way she did every few weeks out of duty more than desire, if she was honest. The house smelled the way it always had, coffee and cedar and something like the past. On the wall hung an old cross-stitch, the fabric gone the color of weak tea, the thread soft with fifty years of dust. The words had not faded, though. Words like that rarely do.

Her grandmother had lived in that same small house through every kind of weather life can throw at a person. She had buried a husband. She had counted out grocery money at the end of hard months. She had outlived most of the friends who once sat at her table. And yet there was something steady in her, something Addy had been hunting for in all the wrong corners of the future. A quiet joy that did not depend on the circumstances lining up right.

Her grandmother’s life had never been perfect. Her peace had never asked it to be.

Addy sat with that a long while, longer than she meant to. She began to see that she had spent years chasing a mirage, waiting for her circumstances to get good enough before she would allow herself to feel grateful. While she kept her eyes fixed on some better tomorrow, she had been walking right past the mercies God had already laid at her feet today.

Contentment, she came to understand, was not a place you finally arrive at once every piece falls into line. It was a choice you make in the room you are standing in right now.

God may still change things. He may open doors nobody expected, mend what has been broken, or carry a person into a whole new season. But we are not required to put our peace in storage until He does. We can trust Him with the waiting and still live wide awake in the present.

What Scripture Says

Paul wrote from a prison cell, of all places, when he said:

“Not that I speak in respect of want:

for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.”

Philippians 4:11, KJV

A man in chains, teaching the rest of us about freedom.

Three Things Worth Carrying With You

Contentment is learned, not handed to you. Paul did not say he was born easy in his own skin. He said he learned it. Contentment is not a lucky temperament some people are dealt at birth like a good hand of cards. It is a discipline, built one day at a time by trusting God through whatever season you happen to be standing in. You practice it the way you practice anything, by noticing His goodness on purpose, by saying thank you before you feel like it, and by refusing to let what is missing drown out what has already been given.

Your circumstances do not get to run the show. Real contentment is not pretending the hard things do not hurt. It is refusing to hand those hard things the keys to your peace. Whether the season is full or lean, whether you are surrounded or you are lonesome, the deepest kind of joy does not come from how things are going. It comes from knowing whose you are.

The word “next” will wear you out if you let it. The next promotion. The next relationship. The next move, the next milestone, the next answered prayer, and then, finally, you tell yourself, you will be happy. But there is always another next waiting behind the one you just reached. That road does not end. Peace begins the day you quit postponing your life and plant your feet in the ground you are standing on right now.

You may not have everything you are asking God for. But He has not left the room. His grace has not run dry. His goodness has not clocked out for the day.

Do not miss today while you are busy waiting on tomorrow.

A Prayer for Contentment

Dear Lord,

I confess I have been restless more often than I would like to admit, dissatisfied with the very ground You have set me on. I have let worries about my work, my money, my relationships, and my future steal a peace that was never theirs to take.

Forgive me for keeping such a careful count of what I lack, and such a poor one of what You have already given.

Teach me the secret Paul knew from that cell. Help me trust Your timing instead of my own impatience. Help me see Your goodness even in the plain, unremarkable middle of an ordinary day. Let my satisfaction rest in You, not in whatever changes I am still hoping for. Give me the sense to keep working toward what is good without making my joy wait on the outcome.

Help me live grateful and faithful in the life You have actually given me. Not the one I keep imagining. This one, right here, right now.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

#ContentmentInChrist #PeaceInThePresent #TrustGodsTiming

Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license. You are welcome to share or adapt it provided proper credit is given to the author.

A Response to Change

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Christian Living, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Writer's LifeLeave a comment

 

A response to change

Meditations

The seventieth decade of life has descended on me. While my body feels the wear of the years, my brain feels like I’m sixteen going on seventeen. If life was an hourglass, the sands would be running out.

Eight years ago, I heard former Super Bowl winning football coach and current NASCAR owner Coach Joe Gibbs describe life as a football game. He had turned seventy-five years old and likened his age to being in the fourth quarter of a football game. The officials have given the two-minute warning.

He said, “To achieve all your life’s aspirations, when you’re my age, it’s time to run the hurry-up offense. You feel the pressure of time running out. The clock will be all zeros before you know it.”

Writing has always been a key part of my aspirations, but more importantly, I want to share the life lessons I’ve learned from my loved ones, military experience, and Christian leaders. I’ll call the lessons learned “The Meditations of Jimmie Aaron Kepler.”

Change

During my early twenties, I served as a second lieutenant in the US Army. My previous company commander’s term ended, and a new captain took charge. The new commander brought about significant changes. Lightning quickness describes the pace of change. My role shifted from leading a rifle platoon to leading a weapons platoon.

Change dominated the day. I asked my father, a military retiree, for advice. Overwhelmed and frustrated best described my feelings during this process. I was my first experience going through a change of command.

My father emphasized that change is the sole constant in life. My ability to adapt to change was crucial for survival in the workplace. He told me that the new company commander or any boss or supervisor makes changes. I need to support those changes and help him or her succeed.

Dad told me if I can’t get along with the new commander or boss, I need to “get along.”

I asked him what he meant by that statement.

He told me I should be able to work with or adapt to any manager or leader placed over me. If I decide I don’t want to work or follow the new person’s leadership, I need to move on – get along to a new job. He said that it’s me who has to change; I will never change my boss. Me developing a negative or resistant attitude because of the changes does no one any good.

Dad quoted Philippians 4:11 from the Bible, “Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.”

He added, “Jim, it’s up to you to be content where you live, where you work, with your friends, with your family, and with your boss. Quit your whining, adjust your attitude, and be happy you have a successful job and a loving family. Now go help make your new boss a success. When he succeeds, you succeed.”