Resource Library

Professional golfer Tommy Bolt was known to be very particular about taking advice from his caddies. Once while playing in Los Angeles, Bolt told his caddy, “Don’t say a word to me. And if I ask you something, just answer yes or no.”

A church pastor received a Christmas card with a note in it from a lady in his congregation. She was very complimentary about his preaching, and even compared him with Billy Graham. She finished by writing, “I think you are one of the really great preachers of all time.”

Apollo Astronaut Captain Alan Bean once told a story about how test pilots evaluate problems they encounter on flights. When something goes wrong, they simply ask, “Is this thing still flying in the right direction?” And if the answer is yes, there is no need to overreact.

Harvard professor Robert Putnam wrote a book years ago called Bowling Alone, which documents the decline in community life in America since the 1960s. The title comes from a trivial but telling example: the percentage of adults who belong to a bowling league today is only about a quarter of what it was in the 1960s.

The famous English evangelist George Whitefield learned that it was more important to please God than men. With full confidence that he was honoring the Lord, Whitefield endured scathing letters accusing him of wrongdoing. However, there was one particular letter he felt warranted a response.

During World War I, a Protestant chaplain with the American troops in Italy became a friend of a local Roman Catholic priest. In time, the chaplain moved on with his unit and was killed. The priest heard of his death and asked military authorities if the chaplain could be buried in the cemetery behind his church.

In the operating room of a large hospital, a young nurse was completing her first full day of responsibilities. “You’ve only removed 11 sponges, doctor,” she said to the surgeon. “We used 12.”

In the fateful winter morning of January 28, 1986, the space shuttle Challenger stood poised for launch. Overnight, the temperature had plummeted into the twenties. At liftoff, it was a crisp 36 degrees Fahrenheit. Huge icicles clung ominously to the launch tower.

There was a golfer on the pro tour years ago who was a pompous egomaniac. In his mind, he could do nothing wrong, and he always had a quick excuse for any loss. As if these faults were not enough, he was also not above hustling a few extra dollars playing amateurs in cities on the tour for $50 a hole.

J. Allan Petersen tells of a little boy who was consistently late coming home from school. His parents warned him one day that he must be home on time that afternoon, but nevertheless he arrived later than ever. So his mother met him at the door and said nothing.