Skip to main content

Dreamers

In the episode - Dreamers  . . .


"If you can Dream it, you can Do it!" He would say.


We met face-to-face one Sunday morning, standing at the entrance to the church after a service held for over 2,500 people.

As we shook hands, our eyes locked together, suddenly I was the only person in this long line of visitors; he greeted me by name with a broad smile as we left the church. It was only the third time we had met, and he remembered my name?


Out of multitudes of people, this man sees every day - how was that possible? Many called him a dreamer. I would come to know him as Dr. Schuller. The lead pastor of Garden Grove Community Church, or at that time, The Crystal Cathedral.


His sermon moved me emotionally much more than I expected. With a booming voice and a wave of his hand, he proclaimed,


"Today's accomplishments were yesterday's impossibilities."


His ministry had stood the test of time and ridicule. Seated in a magnificent all-glass structure with a blue sky above, surrounded by a garden of palm trees, I examined the expressions of the people around me. They, too, were captivated. Listening intently. His passion for his calling was inspirational.


Little did I know this pastor would have a profound effect on my thinking and my life. "Possibility Thinking," he called it. Philosophy with a pragmatic approach to positive results.


To me, this practice has always been known as positive thinking. Decades of young people had read Dr. Norman Vincent Peale's book, The Power of Positive Thinking.


While living in Los Angeles in 1986, the Los Angeles Times announced that Dr. Peale would be speaking at The Crystal Cathedral. I wanted to see it. My first thought was; The Crystal, what? Where is this "Cathedral?" To my surprise, Garden Grove, California, was less than 50 miles from my apartment in Santa Monica. Sunday morning traffic in Los Angeles was light, not the typical freeway parking lot. The drive would be an easy one.


So, without hesitation, Lori and I decided to make the trip to Garden Grove one month before Dr. Peale was to speak. "I'm sure there will be a crowd; let's go early to get the lay of the land. Maybe we can find a way to secure a seat for Dr. Peale's presentation."


We made the trip, and that Sunday morning changed my life. How, you ask? Seated on the balcony, I became intrigued with this idea of possibility thinking: Schuller's presentation, his body language, the use of his voice, and his facial expressions. This pastor focused on the positive possibilities for your life. Not the typical "You're a sinner! Repent!" What every person listening to that day experienced were positive affirmations like this one;


"I would rather attempt to do something great and fail than attempt to do nothing and succeed!"


So, it was that day, from the thrill of the experience, we decided, YES, we're coming back to this church - every week. Through this man, God was changing the world.


Or it was the creator changing me. It didn't matter. 


Suddenly, the lights were turned on; ideas began to leap through my mind, a powerful affirmation of my worth, my newfound awareness of "possibility thinking," my innate abilities, and my aspiration to be the best young educator.


No, it never came to me in those words, but the commitment was engaging and absolute.


It's hard to believe that was over 35 years ago. Much has changed, but what remains is that spark this dreamer lit in me years ago. A flame that grows daily into a new vision for my life.


We all dream. What's yours? The magic of possibility thinking is renewed every day through faith. Believe in yourself; today is a new day; you were put on this earth for a purpose. Discover that purpose; you, too, can change the world. How will you touch someone's life today?


It starts with a dream . . .


This is Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Labels:
Location: Garden Grove, CA, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

When Fear Becomes the Default

In this special episode, When Fear Becomes the Default. Early Sunday morning, I was cycling past a small veterans’ pocket park in San Marcos. The air was still, the streets nearly empty. On one corner stood a young woman, alone, holding a hand-painted sign that read: “Be ANGRY. ICE agents are murdering people.” I pedaled past, but the words stayed with me. I knew the context—the footage and headlines from Minneapolis the day before, already ricocheting through the country and hardening opinions. Even in the quiet of the ride, the noise followed. Two miles later, I stopped at a red light. A black car with dark windows pulled up inches from my bike. My heart jumped. My first instinct wasn’t neighbor —it was threat . I found myself bracing, scanning, and wondering if the person inside was angry, armed, or looking for trouble. Then the door opened. A well-dressed young woman stepped out, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a sign that read “Open House.” She turned, smiled brightly, and sa...
2 comments
Read more

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is  for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...
Post a Comment
Read more

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...
Post a Comment
Read more

On the Fly–Taking Flight

In this special 500th episode,  On the Fly  is moving to a new home. Here’s why—and what’s staying the same. For a very long time (since April 2012),  On the Fly  has lived on  Blogger . Blogger has been a reliable host—dependable, quiet, and never complaining when I arrived late with another half-baked idea, a guitar riff, or a story that needed a little air. It faithfully archived my thoughts, my music, and more than a decade of curiosity. But the internet has changed. It’s louder now. Flashier. More insistent. Every thought is nudged to perform. Every sentence wants to be optimized, monetized, or interrupted by something that really wants your attention right this second. I’ve been craving the opposite. So today, On the Fly is moving to Substack . If you’ve been with me for a while, you know my quiet obsession: the A rt of Seeing . I’m interested in the moments we rush past—the Aversion Trap, the discipline hidden inside a guitarist’s daily practice, t...
Post a Comment
Read more