I was raised with a passion to defend freedom of speech. Everyone is born with the God-given right to express their purposes and passions, but our society is pressuring people to speak in a way that is “acceptable to all.” While this sounds good on the surface, it gives fuel to those in power who want certain topics to be taboo and others to be raised up as important.

The techniques employed by media experts guide individuals onto a bandwagon where few think for themselves. Most look to the new societal norms being pushed for direction on what is “right”, tolerable and expected. The days of voicing ones own opinion in a strong manner are slowly slipping away, except for the higher ratings achieved by controversy.

This new pressure cooker only gives room for the politically correct or the extremist that is used to prove the foolishness of those who are not politically correct. The media has raised an entire generation that makes decisions based on consensus rather than based on what is right and good for the majority. In fact, many politically correct issues are now only good for a few.

Recently in Toronto a police constable was sharing various things women could do to help protect themselves from possible rape. In his list of comments, he mentioned an obvious one of not “dressing like a slut.” The mere suggestion that some provocatively dressed victims may have visually stimulated the perpetrator gave rise to great offense. In retaliation for this man’s politically incorrect blunder, 3,000 women dressed as “slutty as possible” attended a public event in Toronto to make a statement.

Not only was this man harassed for having suggested that dress might have something to do with an attacker’s perceptions, but the results led to numerous women marching in major cities across America dressed in their most provocative outfits. Slutwalk Chicago announced their walk for June 4th, led by strong women who want to…

“…Enforce the truth that those who experience sexual assault are never at fault– no exceptions. We seek to combat a culture that teaches “don’t get raped,” as opposed to “don’t rape.”

The liberal women at the helm of several of these marches feel that a victim is a victim is a victim and their choice of clothing is immaterial and politically incorrect to mention.

I’ve had the privilege of working with numerous women recovering from abuse over the past seven years and find the goal of these marches a little disjointed. Every victim I’ve helped was extremely thankful for tips that would protect them in the future. None were concerned about political correctness, but only safety and the necessary skills to teach their children how to protect themselves in an age of human trafficking.

I find those in recovery to be more wise than those taking advantage of the political limelight, as they are doing what they can to recover without being presumptuous that a perpetrator will change his ways after watching women parade down Michigan avenue dressed in provocative clothing or that society will change their mentality that visual stimulus is not a factor in rape.

However, I must say that I’m thankful freedom of speech still exists and Slutwalk Chicago is made up of woman who desire to combat:

“…The culture of victim blaming that prevails the world over.”

I’m in full agreement that victims should never be blamed. However, I’m also for instructing women on behaviors that can further protect them from men who hold to distorted thinking or disrespectful acts toward women.

I’d prefer that the thousands of participating women would instead consider giving their valuable hours to a shelter where they can help victims first hand, rather than parading down Michigan Avenue this summer.

But again, I did point out earlier that PC issues and controversy gets the attention of the media, not helping those recovering from some act of victimization. I do wonder though, what would happen if churches across America partnered with those marching? Together they could raise funds to purchase safe housing and medical supplies for the abused.

Can you picture the Ten O’clock News:

“Just in, the First Community Church raised one million dollars for housing and medical treatments for victims of rape by partnering with women marching down Michigan Avenue in such provocative clothing that children were quickly ushered inside.”

Nah, it would never happen. But, I do hope by June 4th, every church in the Chicagoland area is doing something practicle, albeit in a less provacative way, to help abused women.

My first day in Little Rock went nothing as planned. Little Rock? Yes. Every friend I chatted with before the trip asked why I chose Little Rock for my get-a-way weekend. The answer was simple. I headed down to visit some friends and with the hopes of asking on-air-talent Sheryl Lackey to consider hosting a new Internet show I’m developing. But, nothing went as planned.

The trip was supposed to start in Colorado with my friends the Andersens. Then I was to fly down to Little Rock Saturday night so I could meet with Sheryl today. However, my first flight got cancelled and I was forced to decide between Colorado and Arkansas. Since Al and his family had just visited with me last month, I decided to move my Colorado trip back.

I arrived in Little Rock yesterday with a great feeling that this would be a wonderful weekend. You might even say I was walking on air. Everything I was doing had a light and jovial spirit about me, but something told me that my new surroundings weren’t in agreement with my light hearted attitude.

It started with Avis not having may preferred number and redirecting me to the main counter to fill out forms. But I didn’t let it get me down. With fun still permeating my soul, I joyfully flipped my license and credit card onto the counter and dove in. Unfortunately, the gentleman helping me with the forms sternly shared that I didn’t have to “toss” my cards.

I told him that I meant no offense by it and wondered if the culture had changed since my previous business trips to Arkansas. Then again, maybe it was me. Having significant global experience in business, working for an international company with numerous cultures and attending a church with dozens of different nationalities, I tend to forget that some people are offended or skeptical at best when it comes to dealing with other races.

I arrived at my hotel and had to squint to see my way to the counter. The power was off indefinitely and I was told that I needed to find a new hotel. The storm Friday that took nine lives had taken out the power. One woman standing nearby, who took a lunch break from her Beth Moore conference, suggested that the sold out hotels would be opening up as the conference ended and people headed home. She pointed out that the basketball conference was also letting out that afternoon. What she didn’t know is that most people were vacationing on Saturday and returning home on Sunday, but I found a hotel on the outskirts of town with three rooms available.

Needles to say, I bumped into lots of men that were a foot taller than me and women who were spiritually pumped up from the Beth Moore conference. I heard so many positive things about her talks, that I felt like I had attended. Unfortunately, her conference was the one reason my meeting this morning with Sheryl was cancelled. She had been a part of the conference and was exhausted. Hopefully we’ll be able to connect in the afternoon for coffee.

Thanks to a series of other misunderstandings, my connecting with the guys from my days selling to SBC were also cancelled. However, one misunderstanding did give me the opportunity to meet filmmaker Nolan Dean. We had a great afternoon chat at a coffee haunt and I got to see some of his work. He was editing a new short documentary about a man who cheated on his wife and their experience approaching reconciliation.

The piece was well done and very moving. He had added enough space in the piece to give the audience a chance to feel the couple’s experience with fear, turmoil and hope. Nolan’s sense of timing and understanding of the human condition makes him a great filmmaker. He also has a good handle on story, which most filmmakers who are into technology lack. I’m confident we will be seeing more of his name in the future.

Since my plan to meet Sheryl for church in this morning turned into her recovering from the conference, I decided to take in a Saturday night service and use this morning to explore the area. I don’t recall the name of the non-denominational church I visited, but the one thing that stood out was it’s worship time.

The church altered it’s lights in keeping with the contemporary styled heartfelt music to create a sense of intimacy. While it was a time of corporate worship, it was also a time when each person could focus in, without thought for those around. There were no distractions, None.

My church keeps the lights up full and allows ushers during the first thirty minutes of our service to have people push past us to open seats in the middle of a row. Years ago our church had everyone shift toward the middle so anyone coming in late could simply slip in from the outside of the row undetected. It’s been a long time since I’ve worshiped without people climbing over me.

The service I visited was very casual. Even the teaching pastor wore jeans and chatted comfortably with guests. And, while it might have been a let down for any women who attended the Beth Moore conference, it was relevant to new seekers.

The best part of the weekend so far was being in a new place with new people and possibilities. I find that some of the best mini-vacations are just a change of scenery and pace. And trust me, Little Rock is both. Oh, and for you back at home, it is very green and warm down here.

Sent from my iPad

Michael Hyatt, best selling author and CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers, stated in a recent blog entry that new authors are not being published unless they have a platform from which to promote their books. I can confirm that his statement is true based on the rejection letters I’ve received. The rejection letters also noted that I was a good writer, not a great one.

I took no offense, as I was elated that they thought I was good. Flunking English several times and having friends tell me to keep my day job, gave me the right perspective to appreciate the words as a compliment. Yep, I was thrilled to hear several agents and publishers tell me that my writing was good, even though it takes great writing or a large platform to be published.

I never claimed to be a writer, just a guy with a few stories to tell – Which I came by naturally. When I was a young child and relatives visited, my dad and the men would go out back and tell stories as they sucked down their suds. I would listen to every story and paid attention to the details that drew each person in. It was then that I decided to share stories that could touch the hearts of millions.

By my junior year in high school, I shared a few stories of my own. Once in college, I found the ability to share stories through film and video. But, writing was still not a part of my life. It wasn’t until I felt a spiritual prompting in November of 2005 when I wrote my first short story.

Since that day, I’ve written numerous stories and shared them with people worldwide. None of which gave me a platform to be picked up by a publishing firm, but each one spreading like wildfire.

Just this morning I was reading a blog written by an unknown author about the “5 lessons on how to treat people.” When I got to point three, I read one of my stories that was adapted for the article. Just for the fun of it, I googled another story of mine and found it had reached millions of people. For not having a platform to reach people with a book, my stories have certainly gained traction.

It’s kind of funny being an unknown author, well, not unknown to you. The mere thought of it reminded me of a person I talked with last year. He wanted to make a clear point in a discussion, so he shared a “true” story that drove his point home. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the story wasn’t true, or that I wrote it to honor my son, mom and an old neighbor lady who won an Olympic medal during her teen years.

I simply took his point to heart and left with a smile on my face, knowing that my story made a difference in one more life.

Have you ever wondered what you shared with someone that might have made their day, helped their perspective or brought encouragement into their life?

For me, being able to touch someone’s heart, with or without getting credit for it, is one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had. To know you made a difference, even if they didn’t know it was you. So give it a try today by sharing an encouraging word or life story with someone who crosses your path. You won’t regret it.