Godyssey

FOREWORD





I wrote this book basically for one simple reason: because I enjoy my God. An unusual statement, perhaps, for a onetime devotee of the "live-for-success" school of life to be making, but if anything it proves that even the most determined worldling is not immune to the magnetic pull of its Maker. And how glad I am that this is so, for the Lord I've come to know has delighted me beyond anything the world has to offer, and become fully as real and alive to me as any flesh-and-blood human being.
And like any such entity, he has at times enraged me, ignored me, confounded me and gotten on my nerves as much as I'm sure I have his ... and yet after over two decades of tumultuous "togetherness," I can truthfully say that just the thought of him (generally) brings a smile to my face. He gives meaning to every facet of my life, and my days are vibrant because of him. He is Someone I truly could not live without.
I also wrote this book because I see so many people today who can't begin to understand that kind of joy, that kind of relationship with the Lord ...

GODYSSEY: Chapter-by-Chapter Synopsis with Excerpts


CHAPTER I: STRANGE GODS

Drawing on the author's own experience, this is a brisk retrospective view of the regnant values of the '70s and '80s, rich with the aphorisms of the times, focusing on the "live-for-success/look-out-for-number-one" phenomenon and the pathos it engendered in the human soul.

EXCERPTS:

Maybe it was because for once I was as intent on observing as on making an impression, but it was at the proverbial "power lunch," those fabled occasions where knowing which fork to use with the shrimp cocktail counts as much as knowing which buttons to push in a prospective client, that I had my first real insight into "the nature of the beast."
The small talk over cocktails concluded, they were segueing into the raison d' etre for the whole affair, when suddenly I caught it. That little group of hotshot MBAs, looking so cool and noncommittal in their preppy "business casuals," sipping their Perriers with an air of breezy self-assurance -- was afraid. Despite all the glad-handing and thirtysomething bonhomie going on, they were very much aware that even on the ostensibly neutral ground of this clubby, fern-drenched watering hole, "a simple nuance can ruin a career."


Careerwise, I was doing as well as an ambitious administrative assistant could expect, but as a result of all the imploding pressures from the drive to maintain "high visibility" and the "competitive edge," I began to burn out. I don't know that it was a burnout in the "clinical" sense, so much -- I was a little too green yet for the really "grand mal" stuff -- as the kind that results from living out Santayana's classic definition of fanaticism, which consists in "redoubling your efforts when you have forgotten your aim."
Just what was I jumping through all these hoops for anyway? Letting a place own me to the extent that I was practically runni...