When I was young, my family owned a cottage on a lake. From a young age, I loved to head out in our little motorboat so I could explore that lake and the others that were connected to it. I could easily make a day out of slipping into little inlets to see where they led or mooring on tiny islands to see what I could find. I was never more free than when I was all by myself, zipping around Indian Lake in a little aluminum boat.

As I explored new areas, I knew to look out for buoys. Sometimes these were big and serious ones installed by whatever government department is responsible for such matters. More often, though, they were simple plastic bleach bottles or rubber balls that had been informally anchored to the lake floor. And while I didn’t know who had placed each of those buoys, I knew what they represented: Danger. Each one marked a spot where at one time a boat had struck a shoal that was hidden just under the surface of the water or a tree jutting upward and now able to pierce a hull. Each one represented a lesson someone else had learned that I did not wish to learn myself. I was terrified of the thought of hitting one of these obstructions so always gave the buoys a wide berth.

I often think we should treat our past sins like buoys, markers that we throw down to keep us from striking the same rock twice—or committing the same sin twice. As soon as we identify a sin in our lives and repent of it, we should make it like a buoy that reminds us of the danger lurking in that sordid corner of our hearts or within reach of our evil desires. It is a poor sailor who strikes the same shoal twice and a foolish Christian who repeats a transgression. Throw out a buoy to remind yourself of your sin and warn yourself away!

It is a poor sailor who strikes the same shoal twice and a foolish Christian who repeats a transgression. Share

And even as we treat our own sins like buoys, it is wise to do the same with the sins of other people. A cottager does not need to mark all the shoals in a lake because others have already done it for us. And in that way, we do well to learn from other people’s sins as well. When we see a leader sink his ministry through moral transgression, we should learn the lesson—drop a buoy so we do not hit that shoal. When we see a fellow church member bring sorrow to his life and harm to his family, we should learn that lesson as well—drop a buoy so we do not ram into that reef and begin to founder. There are markers around most obstacles if only we will look for them, heed them, and steer wide around them.

We know the old saying that those who do not learn history are destined to repeat it. In much the same way, those who do not learn from their own sins, and those of others, are destined to repeat them—to blunder into them again and again and suffer the consequences. It is better by far to heed all those buoys that can steer us away from the obstacles that would otherwise pierce our hearts and make shipwreck of our faith.

There are a lot of people in the world who are in positions of leadership, but there are not a lot of true leaders. There are many people who achieve positions of prominence, but few who can back up that position with the ability to lead. And though the shelves of bookstores are groaning under the weight of all the books dedicated to the topic, and though they seem to sell in such vast quantities, still few of us can say we are being led well.

New to those shelves—the shelves, at least, of stores that sell Christian books—is Jason Allen’s Turnaround. For the past 10 years, since he was 35 years old, Allen has been the president of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He took on the position at a time when the seminary was in grave peril—it was mired in controversy, burdened with debt, and financially upside-down. Its campus facilities were in a state of disrepair and its faculty undistinguished. Little wonder, then, that there was talk of closing it down.
Today, though, MBTS is a thriving and world-class institution that is financially solvent, that has strong campus morale, that features some lovely new buildings, and that is the envy of many other seminaries. Under Allen’s leadership and through God’s kind providence it has experienced a significant turnaround.
That turnaround forms the narrative thread that is the basis of Allen’s book. “This book,” he says, “turns conventional leadership wisdom on its head. I am not a leadership expert hocking new insights or new approaches, nor do I plan to sell you a never-ending stream of leadership resources. In fact, I’ll make another confession: if you’re looking for a leadership guru, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Faithful leadership is actually simple, he insists. That’s not to say it’s easy. But it is foundationally simple. Leadership, he argues, “is largely intuitive, commonsensical, and yes, spiritual in nature.” That intuitive, common-sense, spiritual kind of leadership is described in the book’s ten chapters. In the first he describes the importance of knowing your specific context and in the second the significance of strong convictions. From there he moves to defining mission and pursuing vision. He shows how leaders must cultivate trustworthiness, cherish the teams they put in place, and insist on accountability for themselves and others. He writes about stewarding money well, communicating clearly, and fostering just the right kind of culture. He continually uses the turnaround at Midwestern as an illustration of these principles in action.
I have long observed that some of the most effective books are those that describe principles through the lens of narrative, and in this book Allen does that with great effectiveness. He illustrates 10 essential principles and practices in the remarkable story of an institutions’s transformation. It is interesting, it is helpful, and it is challenging—challenging to anyone who is in a position of leadership, whether in home, in church, in business, or anywhere else. I am glad to recommend it.

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Good morning. Grace and peace to you today.

There have been a few Kindle deals shared this week. You can browse and see them if you like. We’ll hope for more next week!
New Beginnings: On God’s Mercy and Grace
“The beginning of a new school year was always one of my favorite times. There was something exciting about seeing unopened textbooks and knowing that by the end of the year, I would have a thorough understanding of that new subject, or at least evidence that I gave it my best effort. It was a time of new beginnings, regardless of last year’s results.”
Jesus Holds Us Fast
Blake rejoices in the simple truth that Jesus holds us fast.
Light and Life for the Year to Come
Sarah Valentour: “This time of year, we make lists, picking our lives apart for small ways to improve. We seek ways to become the ‘best us’ we can be, searching for answers within ourselves. But as the world preaches the salvation of self-care, God calls his people to a life of holiness, emulating him, in order to become children of light.”
Winning Your Child’s Heart with Winsome Words
“Do we understand the impact of our words on our children? We utter words every day in all sorts of situations, often without intentionality. Sometimes, when we are using words to keep order and get things done, we lose sight of the power they possess.” Darby Strickland reminds us of the power of words to build up and tear down.
Blessed
“So there I was, feeling pretty sorry for myself, and arguing with the Lord. Things had not worked out like I thought they should. ‘Lord, You said that if I looked into your law and obeyed it, I would be blessed. This doesn’t feel much like a blessing.’ There it was in black and white, and yet I did not feel blessed in my doing.”
Flashback: Strength = Good, Weakness = Bad
Consider how God can and will work in you in the year ahead if only you will be weak. Make this the year where you will rejoice in weakness so you can rely on God’s strength.

Nothing should keep our minds busier on earth than this great reality: the Holy One of God was declared unholy, so that unholy sinners might stand unblemished before a holy God. —Mark Jones