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The Jelly Effect: How To Make Your Communication Stick The Jelly Effect: How To Make Your Communication Stick

The Jelly Effect: How To Make Your Communication Stick Order Printed Copy

  • Author: Andy Bounds
  • Size: 3.87MB | 257 pages
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About the Book


"The Jelly Effect" by Andy Bounds is a guide to effective communication, focusing on how to make your message memorable and impactful. The book provides practical tips and techniques for improving your communication skills and influencing others in a positive way. Bounds uses the analogy of jelly to illustrate how communication should be clear, concise, and sticky to resonate with your audience. Ultimately, the book highlights the importance of connecting with others and delivering messages that truly stick.

Hudson Taylor

Hudson Taylor "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women … The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." In September 1853, a little three-masted clipper slipped quietly out of Liverpool harbor with Hudson Taylor, a gaunt and wild-eyed 21-year-old missionary, aboard. He was headed for a country that was just coming into the Christian West's consciousness; only a few dozen missionaries were stationed there. By the time Taylor died a half-century later, however, China was viewed as the most fertile and challenging of mission fields as thousands volunteered annually to serve there. Radical missionary Taylor was born to James and Amelia Taylor, a Methodist couple fascinated with the Far East who had prayed for their newborn, "Grant that he may work for you in China." Years later, a teenage Hudson experienced a spiritual birth during an intense time of prayer as he lay stretched, as he later put, "before Him with unspeakable awe and unspeakable joy." He spent the next years in frantic preparation, learning the rudiments of medicine, studying Mandarin, and immersing himself ever deeper into the Bible and prayer. His ship arrived in Shanghai, one of five "treaty ports" China had opened to foreigners following its first Opium War with England. Almost immediately Taylor made a radical decision (as least for Protestant missionaries of the day): he decided to dress in Chinese clothes and grow a pigtail (as Chinese men did). His fellow Protestants were either incredulous or critical. Taylor, for his part, was not happy with most missionaries he saw: he believed they were "worldly" and spent too much time with English businessmen and diplomats who needed their services as translators. Instead, Taylor wanted the Christian faith taken to the interior of China. So within months of arriving, and the native language still a challenge, Taylor, along with Joseph Edkins, set off for the interior, setting sail down the Huangpu River distributing Chinese Bibles and tracts. When the Chinese Evangelization Society, which had sponsored Taylor, proved incapable of paying its missionaries in 1857, Taylor resigned and became an independent missionary; trusting God to meet his needs. The same year, he married Maria Dyer, daughter of missionaries stationed in China. He continued to pour himself into his work, and his small church in Ningpo grew to 21 members. But by 1861, he became seriously ill (probably with hepatitis) and was forced to return to England to recover. In England, the restless Taylor continued translating the Bible into Chinese (a work he'd begun in China), studied to become a midwife, and recruited more missionaries. Troubled that people in England seemed to have little interest in China, he wrote China: Its Spiritual Need and Claims. In one passage, he scolded, "Can all the Christians in England sit still with folded arms while these multitudes [in China] are perishing—perishing for lack of knowledge—for lack of that knowledge which England possesses so richly?" Taylor became convinced that a special organization was needed to evangelize the interior of China. He made plans to recruit 24 missionaries: two for each of the 11 unreached inland provinces and two for Mongolia. It was a visionary plan that would have left veteran recruiters breathless: it would increase the number of China missionaries by 25 percent. Taylor himself was wracked with doubt: he worried about sending men and women unprotected into the interior; at the same time, he despaired for the millions of Chinese who were dying without the hope of the gospel. In 1865 he wrote in his diary, "For two or three months, intense conflict … Thought I should lose my mind." A friend invited him to the south coast of England, to Brighton, for a break. And it was there, while walking along the beach, that Taylor's gloom lifted: "There the Lord conquered my unbelief, and I surrendered myself to God for this service. I told him that all responsibility as to the issues and consequences must rest with him; that as his servant it was mine to obey and to follow him." His new mission, which he called the China Inland Mission (CIM), had a number of distinctive features, including this: its missionaries would have no guaranteed salaries nor could they appeal for funds; they would simply trust God to supply their needs; furthermore, its missionaries would adopt Chinese dress and then press the gospel into the China interior. Within a year of his breakthrough, Taylor, his wife and four children, and 16 young missionaries sailed from London to join five others already in China working under Taylor's direction. Strains in the organization Taylor continued to make enormous demands upon himself (he saw more than 200 patients daily when he first returned) and on CIM missionaries, some of whom balked. Lewis Nicol, who accused Taylor of tyranny, had to be dismissed. Some CIM missionaries, in the wake of this and other controversies, left to join other missions, but in 1876, with 52 missionaries, CIM constituted one-fifth of the missionary force in China. Because there continued to be so many Chinese to reach, Taylor instituted another radical policy: he sent unmarried women into the interior, a move criticized by many veterans. But Taylor's boldness knew no bounds. In 1881, he asked God for another 70 missionaries by the close of 1884: he got 76. In late 1886, Taylor prayed for another 100 within a year: by November 1887, he announced 102 candidates had been accepted for service. His leadership style and high ideals created enormous strains between the London and China councils of the CIM. London thought Taylor autocratic; Taylor said he was only doing what he thought was best for the work, and then demanded more commitment from others: "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women," he wrote. "The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." Taylor's grueling work pace, both in China and abroad (to England, the United States, and Canada on speaking engagements and to recruit), was carried on despite Taylor's poor health and bouts with depression. In 1900 it became too much, and he had complete physical and mental breakdown. The personal cost of Taylor's vision was high on his family as well: his wife Maria died at age 33, and four of eight of their children died before they reached the age of 10. (Taylor eventually married Jennie Faulding, a CIM missionary.) Between his work ethic and his absolute trust in God (despite never soliciting funds, his CIM grew and prospered), he inspired thousands to forsake the comforts of the West to bring the Christian message to the vast and unknown interior of China. Though mission work in China was interrupted by the communist takeover in 1949, the CIM continues to this day under the name Overseas Missionary Fellowship (International).

Mercy at the Bottom

Jonah is a fascinating case study in the mercy of God. He is a no-good, rotten man who resents God for his mercy. Jonah would rather see his enemies destroyed and annihilated than forgiven. Nestled within the story of this rotten man, though, is his prayer in the second chapter. The prayer gives insight into Jonah’s inner struggle and plays no small part in the development of the story. It also tells us much about the God to whom we pray. Perhaps you’ve breezed through the prayer in a previous reading of the book, but let’s slow down to see what we can learn from his cry for help from within the belly of the great fish. Most Reluctant Prayer Imagine the flannel graph with me. God sends his prophet to a wicked people to proclaim the judgment of God. Jonah, instead of going to Nineveh, runs from God by sailing in the opposite direction. Jonah — God’s chosen instrument — is a leaky vessel. Despite the futility, he seeks to run “away from the presence of the Lord” (Jonah 1:3). Clearly, he wants no part of Nineveh, but we’re not yet told why. A storm rages on the high seas, and Jonah is reluctantly thrown into the sea by the sailors. These pagan seafarers call out to God for mercy, yet throughout the storm, Jonah opens not his mouth. He will not mutter even one meager word. Jonah would rather die, it seems, than be an instrument of God’s mercy (to others or even himself). We quickly learn that Jonah is not the hero of the story, and frankly, a bit of a rotten fellow. As we’ll see, however, we find good company in Jonah’s character deficiencies. And we can find solace from the fact that God still heard Jonah’s prayer, the desperate cries of a wayward prophet. Chapter 2 records Jonah’s prayer from the belly of the fish. If there is ever a foxhole cry for help recorded in the Bible, this is it. As Jonah gasps for air, covered in darkness and with death at his door, he finally manages to muster a cry for help. What Was Clear in the Dark What, if anything, can we draw out of Jonah’s prayer? Let me trace three themes and then come back to how we might personally be encouraged for our own prayer lives. GOD STILL LISTENS First, Jonah comes to his senses and prays to God. I imagine a cry of help escaped as Jonah was hoisted into the air and as he plunged in the pitch-black sea. Maybe just a singular yelp, or a thought of “save me, Lord,” but that was all it took. Jonah wakes to the overpowering aroma of rotting fish carcasses, thinking that hell resembles a fish market. But then he regains his senses and realizes he’s alive in the belly of a fish. In this dire and desperate situation, Jonah prays: “I called out to the Lord, out of my distress, and he answered me; out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice” (Jonah 2:2). Despite his disobedience and stubbornness, he calls out to the Maker of heaven and earth. Despite attempting to run from God, he now turns to him for deliverance and help. God is always ready to receive the desperate cries of his children. GOD STILL REIGNS Jonah admits that God is in control. He doesn’t say, “Those rotten sailors, I can’t believe they threw me into the sea!” Instead, he sees the sovereign hand of God at work even in his precarious situation. He confesses, “You cast me into the deep; . . . all your waves and your billows passed over me” (Jonah 2:3). Desperate situations are not a result of God falling asleep at the wheel. Jonah admits that God is in control, and reminds us that we can trust him even in dire circumstances. God is still sovereign when our safety is compromised. GOD STILL DELIVERS Lastly, Jonah concludes that God saved him for a purpose. Jonah is incapacitated, but clearly not yet dead, and so he concludes that God saved him for some divine purpose. “God is still sovereign when our safety is compromised.” He prays, “I shall again look upon your holy temple. . . . You brought up my life from the pit. . . . My prayer came to you, into your holy temple” (Jonah 2:4, 6, 7). God did not satisfy Jonah’s death wish (Jonah 1:12). He has been spared to once again worship God in his holy temple. Jonah rightly concludes that his deliverance has some meaning, and he even begins to declare God’s greatness from the belly of the fish: “Salvation belongs to the Lord!” (Jonah 2:9). Ugliest Kind of Grief We know how the story ends. Jonah’s prayer is heard and answered, and he eventually washes ashore. Jonah relents, goes to Nineveh, preaches, and the people heed his message and repent — and then the surprise comes. Jonah does not rejoice over their repentance; he gets angry (Jonah 4:1). We learn that Jonah wasn’t worried that the Ninevites wouldn’t listen or that they would kill the messenger. Rather, he was worried that the Ninevites would repent. He knew God would be gracious and merciful — and now that God has, he grieves. God’s character is stunningly juxtaposed with the most pathetic display of prophetic sulking in Scripture: [Jonah] prayed to the Lord and said, “O Lord, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster. Therefore now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.” (Jonah 4:2–3) For all of his sins, at least Jonah is consistent. He would rather die than go preach, he would rather die than pray in the storm, and now he would rather die than see his enemies forgiven. Jonah, however, wasn’t wrong about everything. He wasn’t wrong about God. He knew that God would be gracious and merciful, eager to relent from disaster. The problem was that Jonah didn’t share God’s heart. He was eager for retribution, revenge, and judgment. He wanted to see the people of Nineveh burn for their oppression of Israel. Did Jonah ever become a faithful prophet? Did he ever live up to his task and mission? Did the leaky vessel ever get patched? I’d like to think so, but the author leaves aside any tidy endings. We’re left to ask our own question: Are we like Jonah, or are we like God? Two Lessons for Your Knees How, then, might Jonah’s prayer shape and inspire our prayers today? What might we learn from his cries out of the depths of treacherous seas? See the unrelenting kindness of God. First, we learn that God is still listening. The reality is so simple we might be tempted to overlook it. Even if you just committed a heinous sin — like running away from the living God — he has not decisively closed his ear to you. The intercom to heaven hasn’t been turned off. In the immediate aftermath of sinning against him, we might imagine God exasperated and simmering with anger. We imagine him responding like we would. Jonah, however, reveals that God still waits to receive our desperate and dejected cries, even from the most disobedient among us. He’s eager to receive and welcome our humble and broken prayers for help. As Romans 2:4 reveals, God’s kindness is meant to lead us to repentance. God displays his mercy and forgiveness to Jonah and to the people of Nineveh. We can have confidence, even if we are low-down, dirty, rotten sinners, to come to Jesus with our first or thousandth request for forgiveness — if we humble ourselves and run to him, rather than hiding from him and running away. Resist the urge to run and hide. Second, wherever you are and whatever obedience you’re currently resisting, run to God in prayer. Be persistent in prayer, knowing your God is even more persistent in mercy. Of all the people who shouldn’t have expected their prayers to be answered, it was Jonah. He openly rebelled against God. When God called, he ran in the opposite direction. He jumped aboard a ship and tried to flee the Sovereign of the seas. Even when the storms raged, he refused to pray for deliverance. He would have rather drowned than repented. And yet, out of this watery grave, he comes to his senses and cries out — and wonder of wonders, God listens and answers. “Jonah teaches us that God is more merciful, more patient, and more forgiving than we can now imagine.” If we are in a Jonah-like season of rebellion, we too can pray. Even if we’ve been in a decades-long season of fleeing from God, running from his presence, and resisting his call, we’re invited to come, lay down our rebellion, and be immersed, not in judgment, but in love. God wants to pour out mercy on you, and then through you to other sinners, that they too might repent and be delivered. God is not like us. Where we are quick to anger, slow to forgive, easily frustrated, and prone to hold grudges, God is not like us. Jonah teaches us that God is more merciful, more patient, and more forgiving than we can now imagine. The good news of the gospel is far better than we expect. Through Christ, the better Jonah, we call out to God, with confidence that he will overflow with mercy to no-good, rotten people who come with empty hands — and with confidence that his mercy can change our hearts to be like his. Article by Steven Lee

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