Bill Perkins - 6 Rules Every Man Must Break

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6 Rules Every Man Must Break

Copyright 2007 by Bill Perkins. All rights reserved.

Cover photo of texture copyright by Dave Rau/ iStockphoto. All rights reserved.

Cover photo of sign copyright by Mark Hooghwerff/ iStockphoto. All rights reserved.

Author photo copyright by Tony Goiburn. All rights reserved.

Designed by Ron Kaufmann

Some of the names in this book have been changed to protect peoples privacy.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version . NIV . Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NASB are taken from the New AmericanStandard Bible, 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Scripture marked The Message taken from THE MESSAGE. Copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Perkins, Bill, date.

6 rules every man must break / Bill Perkins.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN-13: 978-1-4143-1140-1 (hardcover : alk. paper)

ISBN-10: 1-4143-1140-0 (hardcover: alk. paper)

1. Christian men.Religious life. I. Title. II. Title: Six rules every man must break.

BV4528.2.P48 2007

248.842.dc22 2006033333

Printed in the United States of America

12 11 10 09 08 07

7 6 5 4 3 2 1

BEFORE THE SHOW BEGINS...

LET THE CREDITS ROLL

Cindy... the gorgeous woman who read every line of this book aloud, often more than once, so I could hear the cadence... and for her vigorous challenge of my thinking that keeps me true to Gods Word.

John Van Diest... thanks for believing in my writing. I hope youre right. John, do you know what they call a short Dutchman? A minivan. That you are not!

Jan Long Harris... who kept reminding me as I wrote what could be a controversial book: Bill, never forget that your job is to help me keep mine. Jan, youre a brilliant editor and funny too. Ummm... youve still got your job, dont you?

Kim Miller... Wow! Thanks for smoothing out the bumps on the road. This book reads easier because of your work... and more work... and more work. Im afraid to ask, but could I make one more change?

Kevin Troudt... Mr. Inventor... youre a creative genius. Its gonna be be-yig... real be-yig! I mean what Gods gonna do through you. (Read this with a strong southern drawl). Thanks for letting me share your story with the world.

Ben Smith... Hey, doc. Did we have fun as kids, or what? Thanks for our story and letting me tell it.

Mike Temple... If anybody knows Mike (see page 19), give him this book. Mike, do you remember that night?

Rod Cooper... thanks for opening the door for me. Ill never forget.

Dave Carr and Tim Maxwell... for reading portions of the book and giving me some tips to improve them. Dave, can you believe weve been friends so long? Tim, you should be on the radio. What a voice! I tried to copy your deep bass voice, but everyone said it sounded like I was trying to copy someone elses deep bass voice.

Paul Perkins... okay, you were right. And Im glad I listened to you.

Ryan, Serene, Elija, and Sitara Perkins... even though you didnt help with this book, I want to thank each of you because I know you would have if you could have. So... thanks! Youve certainly filled my life with joy.

David Perkins... you were right about the last chapter which is now the first chapter being the first chapter instead of the last one. Thanks. And thanks for reading so many of the chapters to me.

Past and present members of the board of White Horse Ministries (Million Mighty Men): Bob Bobosky, Rod Cooper, Jerry Hay, Bob Jesenik, Richard Probasco, Paul Saunders, Phil Shaffer, Brad Nydahl. Thanks for urging me to get out of the boat and trust God for a bodacious dream.

Brett Rademacher and Rick Salz... thanks for being Gods provision when I first stepped out of the boat and faithful friends since.

Dr. David Blakeslee... thanks for being my friend until I needed a therapist and as my therapist helping me roll over. Youll be glad to know my soul stopped tingling.

Gary Witherall... I wish I had taken the leap with you. How about if we jump off that bridge together?

Mr. Neeners... You dog, you.

A DOG NAMED EL NIO

A fter my friend Rod Cooper read an early draft of the first few chapters of this book I asked, What do you think?

I think youve got an issue with rules, he said.

Of course, he was right. Ive always had an issue with rules... especially rules that serve no legitimate purpose. Ive got an even bigger problem with people who make it their job to enforce those rules.

One day I stood in line at a government building waiting for a lady behind a window to stamp a piece of paper. I dont remember any of the specifics like the time of year or what purpose the paper served. I clearly recall waiting with ten or so other men and women for the moment when I would be first in line and get my paper stamped.

Suddenly, the lady with the power to stamp or not to stamp stomped out of her office and into the hall. She wore her gray hair in a bun pulled tight behind her large meaty head. She stood with her hands on her sizable hips. Sweat beaded her forehead, and her gray dress fit as smartly as the uniform worn by a soldier in a parade.

Pointing at us with the metal stamping device that she held in her right hand, she said, You must form a straight line if you want me to stamp your paper.

In that moment I squinted to see the stripes on the shoulders of her dress. I didnt see them but felt an urge to stand at attention and snap a quick salute. I restrained myself because I sensed she might not see the humor in my act. And she might not stamp my paper. Instead I got in line directly behind the man in front of me. I must confess something that still bothers me many years laterperhaps amuses me would better describe my feelings. When she wasnt looking, I quickly stepped out of the line and incited others to join in my rebellion. We managed to get back into a perfect line before she glanced our way. We giggled conspiratorially each time she looked up and saw us standing at attention in a line as straight as a heavily starched pair of pants.