Many years ago I broke my left hand. It happened while I was working as an apprentice in a machine shop in Houston. The result was a trip to the hospital and a surgical procedure, during which the doctor inserted a stainless steel pin from my knuckle to my wrist to hold the bone in place while it healed.

Okay, folks . . . it’s that time again. I’m down to two suits, one sports coat, and only a couple of pants that I can squeeze into. No more excuses. I’m tired of good intentions, secret promises to myself, groans and grunts as I roll out of bed in the morning, and especially those well-meaning comments from first-time visitors at our church: “You look . . . uh . . . different than I expected.” I suppose that’s better than “You look . . . uh . . . fat.”

Have you ever noticed how uniquely adapted each animal is to its environment and its way of life? On land, a duck waddles along ungainly on its webbed feet. In the water, it glides along smooth as glass. The rabbit runs with ease and great bursts of speed, but I’ve never seen one swimming laps. The squirrel climbs anything in sight but cannot fly (unless you count great airborne leaps from limb to limb), while the eagle soars to mountaintops.

Pull a sheet of scratch paper out of your memory bank and see how well you do with the following questions: Who taught Martin Luther his theology and inspired his translation of the New Testament? Who visited with Dwight L. Moody at a shoe store and spoke to him about Christ? Who was the wife of Charles Haddon Spurgeon?

A reminder: Only you can do the surgery on your soul, only you. No one else can know the truth. You can cover up, twist the facts in your mind, rationalize, and ignore . . . and no one will know the difference—no one except you. But if you really want to strengthen your grip on integrity, you will come to terms with the whole truth, regardless of the consequences.

Discipline is one of the most hated terms of our times . . . right alongside patience and self-control. But have you noticed how often it comes up in the testimonies of those who win?

It is February. Overcast, chilly, bleak-and-barren February. If you’re not into skiing the slopes, skating on ice, or singin’ in the rain, there’s not a lot outside to excite you. Sure was gracious of God to make it last only twenty-eight days . . . well, sometimes twenty-nine. No wonder bears hibernate at this time of year.

Victory is not a once-for-all, automatic inheritance. Christians need to be reminded that the life God provides—the abundant life—is not a continuous, unbroken chain of victories. Victory is available, but not automatic. The strength we need is there to be claimed but we should never think of the Christian life as “instant success.”