Quote by Anonymous | Photo by Jason Kotecki Over the holiday break, my family bought a cow, two goats, and four chickens. No partridge, but we did also buy a fruit tree. In what has quickly become my new favorite tradition, after a turkey dinner on New Year’s Eve, my family sat around the table to discuss how we’d spend money we’d be donating to Compassion International. When we started our business twenty years ago, I knew I wanted it to have a charitable component. Most companies give from their profits. I didn’t know how long it would take us to be profitable (spoiler alert: seven years!), so I came up with a different plan. I decided to build giving into the cost of every product we sold. It started at three percent, so if I sold one hundred dollars worth of books, we’d donate three dollars. Eventually, we bumped it up to five percent and expanded it to include my speaking fees as well. This year, we donated more money than we made in our entire first full year in …
Hope in the Desert
"Hope in the Desert." 16x20 inches. Oil on canvas.Original and prints available. When Kim and I started this adventure, we were optimistic. Very. When we decided to abandon my career as a freelance illustrator and designer, we felt very strongly that my comic strip Kim & Jason was going to hit the big time. We planned to live on Kim’s kindergarten teaching salary, which we knew would require sacrifice, but we were fairly certain that within a year, Kim & Jason would take the world by storm and we’d be exchanging phone calls with Oprah and her people. We had no idea it would take five years before we’d be able to earn a living with our business. And by earning a living, I mean simply replacing the Kim’s robust $23,000 teaching salary. It didn’t take long for the optimism that launched our big dream to fade. For much of those five years, it felt like we were living in the desert. Any encouraging email from a reader, or an order on our store that …
A Message for When You Feel Like a Failure
Grace is a tricky thing. It’s something we all need but are loathe to accept. Although we perhaps aren’t as generous with it as we could be, we’d still much rather give it than receive it. My son Ben is seven. He has been writing books, typing pages on the computer and printing them out, leaving plenty of space for illustrations. (As I have taught him. ;) His most recent version was about Ninjago, a weighty tome that was a full eight pages in length. Ben’s big sister Lucy served as editor, helping correct some misspellings and punctuation errors. Before her involvement, the sentences were choppy, missing some words, and as most of the copy was generated by sound-spelling, it was tainted by the common accent of childhood. For example: “Liybawey.” Can you figure it out? It’s one of our family’s favorite haunts. Also known as the “library." Now, do I look down on him for the missteps, for the obvious spelling errors, and the shallow, predictable plot? Of course not. Do …
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Building Sandcastles and the Meaning of Life
Why do we build sancastles on the beach? I mean, what’s the point? Eventually, the surf will swallow it whole and all the hard work will be for nothing. That’s what I was thinking as my kids were enthusiastically erecting a stronghold of sand on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. They worked fast. Built it high. And even added a moat for protection. That led to questions about life. If you’re lucky, you have eight or nine decades to work with, although most of us have much less than that. We busily build families, careers, and accomplishments to be proud of. It’s easy to wonder: What’s the point? Why bother? You know it won’t last. The surf will eventually win. It always does. So I started compiling a list of reasons: Maybe it’s exciting to see what you can accomplish before the clock runs out. Maybe it's to experience a feeling of pride in the little wins, no matter how fleeting, like when your makeshift moat holds off a surge of water. Maybe the enjoyment comes …
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Looking For Orcas
"Looking For Orcas" by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas. Original is SOLD. Prints and canvas reproductions available here. I’ve heard that God always answers prayers. Sometimes the answer is no. Sometimes, he says yes in ways that seem like a no. During a family vacation in the Pacific Northwest, one of the things I wanted to see was an orca. We heard stories of a mama and her baby being spotted in Puget Sound. We kept our eyes peeled on the ferry ride to Victoria. Our vacation home was on a bay on the Olympic Peninsula and every wave in the distance seemed like it could be a killer whale in the process of surfacing. We never saw one. We could have booked a sightseeing tour, but time and weather and the ages of our kids conspired against us. Maybe next time. As I have reflected on this minor disappointment, and through the act of creating this painting, something occurred to me. God knew I wanted to see an orca, but because he knows me so deeply, he also knew why …
Your Life: Roller Coaster or Runaway Train?
I think it’s safe to assume that physically, the first drop on a roller coaster feels a lot like riding a runaway train hurtling off a cliff. (Admittedly, I’ve never actually experienced the latter.) Even though our brains know the ultimate outcome of each, both experiences will cause us to scream like that thief in Home Alone who got the tarantula placed on his face. I’m an eternal optimist (I am a Cubs fan, after all) but also a bit of a worrier. When an unexpected expense comes up, or the bank account looks smaller than it should, or an abnormality on a medical test pops up, I’m only a hop, skip, and a jump away from pushing the panic button. It’s in those moments that my life feels like a runaway train, and I'm racing toward certain doom. My fear is something terrible and my faith is tested. And yet, so far, disaster is always avoided. The car rights itself, the path levels out, God provides. It’s not that bad things never happen, but they somehow give way to something …
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To Be Continued
Today I wanted to start by sharing something that has the potential to scare off half my readers who aren’t already aware of this little fact: I am Catholic. I can promise you that am not interested in converting anyone to anything, and there will not be a sales pitch for cleaning products at the end. I just wanted to share where I’m coming from and relay a neat story. However, please be advised that the Internet is a big place and you're free to surf elsewhere if you are uncomfortable hearing viewpoints that may be different from your own. Whether it be good, bad, or ugly, it is impossible to not have a opinion of the Catholic Church. I certainly have had my share over the years, with many being in the bad or ugly category. Most of the issues I have (and I suspect I am not alone) are with the actual PEOPLE in the Church. They can be idiots. Stubborn, misguided, hypocritical idiots. Then again, so can I. And so too were all twelve of Jesus’ best friends, at times. But I …
Using Social Media for the Good of Your Soul
This is a guest post by our friend, Ryan McRae. Ryan has a wicked sense of humor and a neat way of looking at things. You can find him at ryanmcrae.net, where you must check out his Man Card. Right now, the internet is blazing with how social media actually disconnects us; we spend too much time on it and we are always looking at our phones, etc. And trust me, I get it and I'm the most guilty person on the planet. But there is a way to use social media for the good of our souls instead of cluttering our lives. …
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No One Belongs Here More Than You
Rich Mullins was a contemporary Christian artist whose songs and perspective were a major influence on me during a crucial point in my life. He passed away in a tragic car accident when I was in college. I remember a chilly, late-night walk on campus during which I reflected on his life and the impact he’d had on the world. As autumn leaves crunched under my feet, I noticed stirring within my heart: a deep desire to make a similar impact. A dark voice of doubt tried to squelch it immediately. “Who do you think you are? You’re just a kid from a small town in Illinois!” Fortunately, another voice came to my defense: “And Rich Mullins was ‘just’ a kid from a small town in Indiana. Why NOT you?” I’ve always held on to that sentiment, especially when I’ve been intimidated, afraid, or feeling unworthy. Which happens a lot, especially when I’m about to give a speech to an audience that is out of my comfort zone. Yes, the people in the seats may have experience, social status, …
Just Brave Enough
After a speaking gig in Houston a few weeks ago, we drove down to Galveston to spend a little time near the Gulf. As Lucy waded in the water, immersed in a game she likes to call “tricking the waves,” Kim commented on how much deeper she was willing to go compared to a few months ago when we were in Florida. Now, Lucy didn’t go diving headfirst into the surf or anything, but she didn’t need to. She was being, as I like to say, “just brave enough.” …