One of the cool things about "free writing" to clear my brain, is I don't make any rules, I don't edit (much), and I rarely proofread all the way through before hitting the publish button. I think raw=real, mistakes and all.
Often, though, I do fail to "complete the circle" and finish a point that I started. Weird huh? Just like trying to have a conversation with me...
So, in interest of personal growth and improvement, here's my responses to my own issues I brought up yesterday:
1.) For the group of 15 of us to take part in this trip, approximately $45,000 was raised/spent on travel and expenses. I'm no developing country scholar, but my math tells me that this amount of money could go a long way without my international flight costs digging into it. You get the idea, the money was a real struggle for me. Not raising it, not giving it up to go, but I couldn't help but feel like a bit of an arrogant jerk to be spending that kind of coin to go first hand and gawk at people who were struggling for bare necessities.
Later in my dialogue, I addressed how utilitarian we are as Americans, how we want to see a return on our investment. In a way, that's comical, when I examine the waste and stupid things I've done financially, but the point is still there. Here's what I think now:
I have seen how, and where, the accounting is done at the children's center. Not only is the accounting meticulous, it's clear that the culture in the organization is to be excellent stewards of the money that they receive. I saw this in our entire trip, and while the staff certainly went out of their way to make sure we were comfortable, it wasn't over the top, in my opinion.
A flip side of the comfort question is this: how effective would a mission be to drag a bunch of pampered Americans down, wear them out physically, mentally, and emotionally, and then make them sleep in discomfort, eat food that makes their stomachs ill, etc.? For me? I'd kinda dig it. For most, not so much. After a day or two of that, there might not be enough "blessing" to go around. Just being real.
Next, there is certainly value (and Compassion and other organizations know it, it just makes business sense) in having folks witness first-hand what is happening in the children's centers, and how the money is being utilized. It's going to cost money to have people see this, but the return, I can only imagine, is enormous. I know how I've preached about what I saw--heck, I'm writing this, and arguing with myself...the future investment in the area, I believe, depends at least in part on folks getting boots on the ground and seeing what is happening.
Third, and maybe most important, there is an immeasurable change in the perspective of those who attend a short term mission trip. I believe that this is the intangible good that comes out of the trip, and may not even ever effect the actual area that was being served. How can we know the future effect of an 18 year old (or 50 year old) who's life is irreversibly altered by their experience on such a trip? How can one try to put a dollar figure on that? I would submit, you can not.
2.) Work projects: I chose my trip, or allowed it to choose me, because I felt something a little mysterious brewing under the surface. We weren't painting a church, we weren't building a house, we weren't digging a well...we were just going to be present. That appealed very much to me. See, cynical me believes that painters should paint, and builders should build, and well drillers should drill--I come from a construction background, and I can assure you--every time I've had a well-intention-ed but unskilled person want to "help", my projects take longer, frustrate me more, and too often end up completed in a substandard way. Besides, if unemployment or underemployment is a major issue in an area, why the heck would I be down there working for free instead of taking some of my mission money and hiring some local laborers to do the same thing? Hmmm.
The issue of work projects will continue to be a hard nut for me to crack. I do believe, however, that I have had my eyes opened enough, and God has provided enough wisdom in me, for me to acknowledge that I don't even know what I don't know. I have not participated in a work-project mission. I know people who have. I have family that just did. Great for them! I can't imagine that they possibly flew across the globe and participated in a project and came back unchanged.
There are some practical considerations that I still struggle with, but seeing what I address in my paragraph above about perspective and future impact--I'm gonna shut my mouth and leave this one alone. If someone is passionate about work projects, and they are connected with an organization that is in tune with making that happen, then my approval and commentary is not required, nor has it been requested.
3.) What am I going to do anyway? Since we weren't building something, and I doubted that the majority of the folks we would contact would be running a business and desirous of my vast management skills to be consulted upon, what the heck was I going to do for a week in a country where I BARELY understand the language, and know nothing of the culture?
I have to admit, this is the weakest argument I had, but also one that I hear the most. The self-deprecating, poor me, I'm not good enough, Zacchaeus argument just really doesn't fly.
Seriously, how can we truly as Christians, as children of God, actually believe this for more than about 15 seconds? A basic tenant of our beliefs is that we were created with purpose, with worth, and that God loved and believed enough in us to sacrifice his Son for us. Um, we can probably handle a few awkward moments until we see where we fit in the puzzle.
As one of my heros, Zig Ziglar said, "You were designed for accomplishment, engineered for success, and endowed with the seeds of greatness!"
How about going out at sharing that?
Conclusion
I don't have all the answers, nor do I pretend to. I like to throw things out there because they are spinning in my head, and if they make other people think, then COOL. If not, I'm just another crackpot on the internet spouting off--there's plenty of room for all of us.
There should be no doubt that I've "drank the kool-aid" with regard to relationship based missions, and my support of my Compassion child, family, and neighborhood. As I told Fernando, I'm all in. Bring on the next adventure. Or, as you could read about in an earlier blog...DO IT AGAIN!
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Friday, July 8, 2016
Mission Trip Debrief
I'm starting to think that there is not much original thought left in this world. Not that we aren't trying, but everytime I think I'm clever and I've really got a great fresh idea to pass on, Google jumps in and ruins it.
Holy cow, how can I plagiarize some dude I've never heard of, on some website I didn't know existed? Well, that kinda flows right along with my thoughts on stories--we're really not all that different, and it turns out, we share a lot of thoughts and feelings.
I was googling to try to get some insight on some of the thoughts I had before Heidi and I went on our Compassion trip to Ecuador. As it turns out, I'm shockingly not the first person to be cynical about the idea of short term mission trips. Even more shocking, there was a [name redacted for security purposes] big time cynic on my trip with me! Wow!
A few years ago after hitting some roadblocks in what I *thought* was a great local ministry idea, helping people who couldn't afford decent transportation get some, I was encouraged to read the book, "Toxic Charity". I'd encourage you to read it as well. The subtitle is "How Churches and Charities Hurt Those They Help." WOW. That was eye opening. Americans, particularly American Christians, are very good at seeing a need, and very good at rallying support for a cause. What we apparently really lack, is the ability to move from catalyst to sustainability. A major disconnect, it would seem, is our desire to impose our will on people who never asked for it in the first place! A second, would be the foreseeable, yet often ignored, consequences of the changes being made.
Let's get some specific cynical stuff out of the way first:
1.) For the group of 15 of us to take part in this trip, approximately $45,000 was raised/spent on travel and expenses. I'm no developing country scholar, but my math tells me that this amount of money could go a long way without my international flight costs digging into it. You get the idea, the money was a real struggle for me. Not raising it, not giving it up to go, but I couldn't help but feel like a bit of an arrogant jerk to be spending that kind of coin to go first hand and gawk at people who were struggling for bare necessities.
2.) Work projects: I chose my trip, or allowed it to choose me, because I felt something a little mysterious brewing under the surface. We weren't painting a church, we weren't building a house, we weren't digging a well...we were just going to be present. That appealed very much to me. See, cynical me believes that painters should paint, and builders should build, and well drillers should drill--I come from a construction background, and I can assure you--every time I've had a well-intention-ed but unskilled person want to "help", my projects take longer, frustrate me more, and too often end up completed in a substandard way. Besides, if unemployment or underemployment is a major issue in an area, why the heck would I be down there working for free instead of taking some of my mission money and hiring some local laborers to do the same thing? Hmmm.
3.) What am I going to do anyway? Since we weren't building something, and I doubted that the majority of the folks we would contact would be running a business and desirous of my vast management skills to be consulted upon, what the heck was I going to do for a week in a country where I BARELY understand the language, and know nothing of the culture?
As I listened to our incredible host, Fernando Puga describe what he felt was effective and what was NOT effective, I had a thought that had never crossed my mind before. Fernando described a strong desire to shift from transactional or stuff based mission work to transformational or thought based work. (Note: this is my debrief of my experience, I don't speak for Fernando, nor do I articulate nearly as well as he does--but I think we connected on his goals.) Fernando described well the well intended, yet often short-sighted programs and projects that have taken place around the world, and then described why long-term, those programs or projects failed. Fernando instructed us that the best thing that we could do is be present, be loving, and be encouraging. Encourage dreams, relate to people like a person. Laugh, cry, hug, love. Open our minds past our American solutions to problems that are not American problems. Hmmm...seemed a little open ended.
Somewhere in the midst of Fernando's presentation, my mind trailed off a bit. I started thinking of things I hadn't. Suddenly, even some of the positive thoughts I had didn't seem so positive. A word popped into my head that hadn't been spoken, but it just connected--Imperialism. (Turns out, I thought my clever coining of the phrase Imperialistic Mission Trips was original--nope. Google that, and you'll find a bunch of other clever people who thought they were original too.) Even in our best intentions, we sometimes fail to understand that others don't necessarily want what we want, or want to be how we are.
I came back to the conversation somewhere around the time that Fernando was explaining that he wanted our visit to be about relationships. Don't be seen as a dollar sign, a handout, Santa Claus, an ATM. There were numerous examples, and somewhere in there, I realized that God had definitely led me to the right trip, with the right leadership. Interesting.
So...since we returned, I've been asked two things (mostly). 1.) How was your trip? 2.) What did you do?
Well, how was our trip? Indescribable. Incredible. Life changing, humbling, and inspiring. Frankly, a better answer is this: Heidi and I are going back in October. Yeah, like in 3 months. I knew shortly after we had arrived that there was a draw to this region that was about more than just this one trip. I don't really know what that means yet, and certainly don't know what the future holds, but I can assure you that absent some serious sign from God, Ecuador, and specifically the town of Echeandia, Bolivar province, is now a part of my family's story, and will continue to be.
What did we do? Nothing. Everything. We were told to take notes and keep a journal. I don't follow direction very well. More truthfully, I don't process deep emotion and thought quickly, at least not to the point that I'm willing to commit it to paper. I made a few notes and mostly started thinking through this blog post. Here it is. More will come later, out of order, in jagged pieces just like the best memories do, but for now, this is my story of what we did.
We met people. Lots of people, lots of mothers and children. We were greeted like long-lost family, even though nobody knew us. I got more hugs and kisses in an hour than I've had in a year. We saw accomplishment. We saw pride. We saw hard work, and we saw some of the effects of the recent earthquake. We saw abject poverty. I saw structures that people called homes that would not even meet standards for those of us who like to "rough it" in the woods.
What I didn't see? Self-pity. Anger. Disdain. Greed. A word that came to mind almost immediately after my first home visit was, "CONTENT." Not one time did I spend time with anyone who asked us to pray for more things, or a nicer house, or more clothes, or a bigger tv. Health, enough work to pay the bills. That's pretty much what people asked for. People who after showing me their house with no windows and no running water and half a dozen people in it insisted that I take their gift of 30lbs of oranges or other fruit. People willing to share, willing to give.
What did I see? I saw generosity. I saw goodness. I saw thankfulness.
Quickly, almost before I realized, I looked past what I saw as an American--no a/c, no running water, no convection oven (no oven), and I saw people. I saw God's people. I saw good.
Oh sure, it's not all peaches and rainbows. Of course we were sheltered from the worst of the worst, and probably even from the bad. I know its there, because we heard people's stories. But I also know that God is there. God is there, and God is moving, and God is working. I want to help God with that work, but I want to do it HIS way, and THEIR way. Not my way.
I saw hope. I saw hope in situations that most people I know would roll up in a ball and give up.
I also saw things that made me very sad. I was heartbroken to see that the amount of fathers engaged in their marriage or children's lives is infinitesimal. I saw little girls who had no idea what a MAN was like, so they are destined to repeat what their mothers did. I saw little boys who without direction will grow up and be just like their dads.
But, again, I saw hope. I met MEN. I met MEN who may not "get it" on the level I wish they did, but they knew how powerful their role in their family is. They knew that they represented the hope of their family and their children. I met MEN that I want to spend more time with. I want to encourage. I want to share in their success. I want to see them win, whatever that means to them.
So what did I do? I changed. Just a bit, but an important bit.
This week, I had the privilege of sitting around for a few moments with some men I admire. One of them I had just met, but I'm pretty smart, and I could tell he was the real deal. I took a moment, even outside of my own joking self, and just asked those guys to be my friends. Let's hang out. Let's talk about guy stuff and encourage one another. I need that too.
I have thrown myself into learning spanish. I've started an "Ecuador" line item in our family budget. I'm trying really hard to stop short of trying to fix things (that'll be a lifelong journey), and be more present for those who ask, until they have something they actually want me to help with.
The cynicism? Some is still there. A really smart guy told me back in May that, "Bad decisions made with good intentions are still bad decisions." I think that people, particularly well-meaning people; and even more particularly, well-meaning evangelical Christians--struggle to acknowledge when things need an adjustment or regrouping to stay on task; I think we equally struggle to see the value in things that are not always tangible, not always measurable, but certainly important and present.
I think there are good mission trips. There's certainly got to be bad ones. I think there's some non-profits that are horribly run and some for-profits that might do great things.
I know this--I'm completely sold out to Ecuador, and particularly, the work that Compassion International is doing in Ecuador. The work of Fernando and his family, and his incredible staff, all the way down to the children's center level--incredible, and God sent.
Holy cow, how can I plagiarize some dude I've never heard of, on some website I didn't know existed? Well, that kinda flows right along with my thoughts on stories--we're really not all that different, and it turns out, we share a lot of thoughts and feelings.
I was googling to try to get some insight on some of the thoughts I had before Heidi and I went on our Compassion trip to Ecuador. As it turns out, I'm shockingly not the first person to be cynical about the idea of short term mission trips. Even more shocking, there was a [name redacted for security purposes] big time cynic on my trip with me! Wow!
A few years ago after hitting some roadblocks in what I *thought* was a great local ministry idea, helping people who couldn't afford decent transportation get some, I was encouraged to read the book, "Toxic Charity". I'd encourage you to read it as well. The subtitle is "How Churches and Charities Hurt Those They Help." WOW. That was eye opening. Americans, particularly American Christians, are very good at seeing a need, and very good at rallying support for a cause. What we apparently really lack, is the ability to move from catalyst to sustainability. A major disconnect, it would seem, is our desire to impose our will on people who never asked for it in the first place! A second, would be the foreseeable, yet often ignored, consequences of the changes being made.
Let's get some specific cynical stuff out of the way first:
1.) For the group of 15 of us to take part in this trip, approximately $45,000 was raised/spent on travel and expenses. I'm no developing country scholar, but my math tells me that this amount of money could go a long way without my international flight costs digging into it. You get the idea, the money was a real struggle for me. Not raising it, not giving it up to go, but I couldn't help but feel like a bit of an arrogant jerk to be spending that kind of coin to go first hand and gawk at people who were struggling for bare necessities.
2.) Work projects: I chose my trip, or allowed it to choose me, because I felt something a little mysterious brewing under the surface. We weren't painting a church, we weren't building a house, we weren't digging a well...we were just going to be present. That appealed very much to me. See, cynical me believes that painters should paint, and builders should build, and well drillers should drill--I come from a construction background, and I can assure you--every time I've had a well-intention-ed but unskilled person want to "help", my projects take longer, frustrate me more, and too often end up completed in a substandard way. Besides, if unemployment or underemployment is a major issue in an area, why the heck would I be down there working for free instead of taking some of my mission money and hiring some local laborers to do the same thing? Hmmm.
3.) What am I going to do anyway? Since we weren't building something, and I doubted that the majority of the folks we would contact would be running a business and desirous of my vast management skills to be consulted upon, what the heck was I going to do for a week in a country where I BARELY understand the language, and know nothing of the culture?
As I listened to our incredible host, Fernando Puga describe what he felt was effective and what was NOT effective, I had a thought that had never crossed my mind before. Fernando described a strong desire to shift from transactional or stuff based mission work to transformational or thought based work. (Note: this is my debrief of my experience, I don't speak for Fernando, nor do I articulate nearly as well as he does--but I think we connected on his goals.) Fernando described well the well intended, yet often short-sighted programs and projects that have taken place around the world, and then described why long-term, those programs or projects failed. Fernando instructed us that the best thing that we could do is be present, be loving, and be encouraging. Encourage dreams, relate to people like a person. Laugh, cry, hug, love. Open our minds past our American solutions to problems that are not American problems. Hmmm...seemed a little open ended.
Somewhere in the midst of Fernando's presentation, my mind trailed off a bit. I started thinking of things I hadn't. Suddenly, even some of the positive thoughts I had didn't seem so positive. A word popped into my head that hadn't been spoken, but it just connected--Imperialism. (Turns out, I thought my clever coining of the phrase Imperialistic Mission Trips was original--nope. Google that, and you'll find a bunch of other clever people who thought they were original too.) Even in our best intentions, we sometimes fail to understand that others don't necessarily want what we want, or want to be how we are.
I came back to the conversation somewhere around the time that Fernando was explaining that he wanted our visit to be about relationships. Don't be seen as a dollar sign, a handout, Santa Claus, an ATM. There were numerous examples, and somewhere in there, I realized that God had definitely led me to the right trip, with the right leadership. Interesting.
So...since we returned, I've been asked two things (mostly). 1.) How was your trip? 2.) What did you do?
Well, how was our trip? Indescribable. Incredible. Life changing, humbling, and inspiring. Frankly, a better answer is this: Heidi and I are going back in October. Yeah, like in 3 months. I knew shortly after we had arrived that there was a draw to this region that was about more than just this one trip. I don't really know what that means yet, and certainly don't know what the future holds, but I can assure you that absent some serious sign from God, Ecuador, and specifically the town of Echeandia, Bolivar province, is now a part of my family's story, and will continue to be.
What did we do? Nothing. Everything. We were told to take notes and keep a journal. I don't follow direction very well. More truthfully, I don't process deep emotion and thought quickly, at least not to the point that I'm willing to commit it to paper. I made a few notes and mostly started thinking through this blog post. Here it is. More will come later, out of order, in jagged pieces just like the best memories do, but for now, this is my story of what we did.
We met people. Lots of people, lots of mothers and children. We were greeted like long-lost family, even though nobody knew us. I got more hugs and kisses in an hour than I've had in a year. We saw accomplishment. We saw pride. We saw hard work, and we saw some of the effects of the recent earthquake. We saw abject poverty. I saw structures that people called homes that would not even meet standards for those of us who like to "rough it" in the woods.
What I didn't see? Self-pity. Anger. Disdain. Greed. A word that came to mind almost immediately after my first home visit was, "CONTENT." Not one time did I spend time with anyone who asked us to pray for more things, or a nicer house, or more clothes, or a bigger tv. Health, enough work to pay the bills. That's pretty much what people asked for. People who after showing me their house with no windows and no running water and half a dozen people in it insisted that I take their gift of 30lbs of oranges or other fruit. People willing to share, willing to give.
What did I see? I saw generosity. I saw goodness. I saw thankfulness.
Quickly, almost before I realized, I looked past what I saw as an American--no a/c, no running water, no convection oven (no oven), and I saw people. I saw God's people. I saw good.
Oh sure, it's not all peaches and rainbows. Of course we were sheltered from the worst of the worst, and probably even from the bad. I know its there, because we heard people's stories. But I also know that God is there. God is there, and God is moving, and God is working. I want to help God with that work, but I want to do it HIS way, and THEIR way. Not my way.
I saw hope. I saw hope in situations that most people I know would roll up in a ball and give up.
I also saw things that made me very sad. I was heartbroken to see that the amount of fathers engaged in their marriage or children's lives is infinitesimal. I saw little girls who had no idea what a MAN was like, so they are destined to repeat what their mothers did. I saw little boys who without direction will grow up and be just like their dads.
But, again, I saw hope. I met MEN. I met MEN who may not "get it" on the level I wish they did, but they knew how powerful their role in their family is. They knew that they represented the hope of their family and their children. I met MEN that I want to spend more time with. I want to encourage. I want to share in their success. I want to see them win, whatever that means to them.
So what did I do? I changed. Just a bit, but an important bit.
This week, I had the privilege of sitting around for a few moments with some men I admire. One of them I had just met, but I'm pretty smart, and I could tell he was the real deal. I took a moment, even outside of my own joking self, and just asked those guys to be my friends. Let's hang out. Let's talk about guy stuff and encourage one another. I need that too.
I have thrown myself into learning spanish. I've started an "Ecuador" line item in our family budget. I'm trying really hard to stop short of trying to fix things (that'll be a lifelong journey), and be more present for those who ask, until they have something they actually want me to help with.
The cynicism? Some is still there. A really smart guy told me back in May that, "Bad decisions made with good intentions are still bad decisions." I think that people, particularly well-meaning people; and even more particularly, well-meaning evangelical Christians--struggle to acknowledge when things need an adjustment or regrouping to stay on task; I think we equally struggle to see the value in things that are not always tangible, not always measurable, but certainly important and present.
I think there are good mission trips. There's certainly got to be bad ones. I think there's some non-profits that are horribly run and some for-profits that might do great things.
I know this--I'm completely sold out to Ecuador, and particularly, the work that Compassion International is doing in Ecuador. The work of Fernando and his family, and his incredible staff, all the way down to the children's center level--incredible, and God sent.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
We've ALL got a story.
Growing up in an auto shop environment, there was a fairly hard and fast rule that was ingrained in my brain fairly early--borrow a tool once, no problem; need it twice? No problem. Need it again--go buy one. It was (and remains) a pretty good barometer for when a technician needs to know what tools he really needs, and to know when he's overstepping the friendly helpfulness of his coworkers.
Applying that same logic, it's time for me to talk about stories. In the last few weeks, reference to a person's "story" or testimony has been made several times around me, many tidbits have been shared, and as one captive audience on a long bus ride can attest--give me an audience, and I'll give you a story! The point is, when a topic continues to swirl around me in different contexts and places, it's probably time to talk about it!
What's the big deal with stories?
Are we looking for sympathy? Maybe. Are we proud and bragging? Maybe. Are we trying to relate? Maybe. Are we seeking help? Maybe.
If you read through some of this blog's posts, you'll find that I'm pretty adamant about the thought that when it comes to stories, none of us is all that special. Please understand, though, I make that statement in the context of us feeling sorry for ourselves when things suck; even more dangerous, for thinking that no one else has ever achieved the levels of failure and misery that we might be facing at any given moment. I use hard hitting statement as a bit of a reality check--for myself and others--because, as I was just reminded again yesterday, our stories are pretty similar.
My exact response when I was told that we all have a similar "story" is that brokenness is an immeasurably powerful equalizer. I think that's a pretty powerful statement, so I'd encourage you to re-read it. I'll stop short of calling it brilliant, because that's just being boastful...This equalizing power, I believe, is what makes sharing our stories with one another important.
Have you ever considered how remarkable it is that our military can take a group of kids from 18-25 or so years old, from virtually every walk of life, shove them together in a box of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual anguish that we call basic training, and inside of weeks, these kids would literally die for one another? There is an important common denominator when it comes to basic military training, and that is that everyone is equal (and at times some might say that everyone is equally worthless). This equalization regardless of race, religion, family income, education level, is one of the most powerful tools that our military has at its disposal. Quite different than brain washing or indoctrination, our young people are made powerful by the power of US instead of the power of ME.
Back to stories, I think that's what makes our stories important--sharing them is an incredible way of connecting at a very core human and spiritual level. On my recent trip to Ecuador, I was blessed to share stories with a number of different people from several age ranges, walks of life, and even people from a different culture who spoke a different language than me.
What I found was, at our core, I not only had way more in common with these people than I had previously thought, I found that we gave each other strength and hope in sharing, and our bond was strengthened incredibly in the desire to reach out with emotional and spiritual support for one another.
Most importantly, I found that sharing our stories shares the power, love, and authority of the God that we all share and serve. What better way to worship our Lord than to share stories of deliverance from seemingly unrecoverable circumstances and triumph over adversity? What better way to high-five God than to credit Him in the presence of others--believers or not--and let His light shine through us?
If you think you don't have a story, be careful. You might just need to dig a little deeper, and open up a bit. God might be trying to tell you to let Him work, and you're not getting the message. I was THAT guy. I actually, fairly regularly, said OUT LOUD, "I wish I had a story like xxxxx does. People just about have to listen when you have testimony that powerful." All the while, I believe God was gently knocking on my heart, and I wasn't listening....I was too hard headed and self righteous to listen to a soft voice, or heed a light course correction. I had to hit the bottom, dig another hole, and fall a few more times before I opened my heart and brain!
I ended up with one heckuva story. I tell people often, I don't relish how I got to where I am today, but I sure am glad to be here!
Spend some time listening to others. Be open. Be broken. Be humble. Be vulnerable. It makes us real and helps us all grow stronger together.
Applying that same logic, it's time for me to talk about stories. In the last few weeks, reference to a person's "story" or testimony has been made several times around me, many tidbits have been shared, and as one captive audience on a long bus ride can attest--give me an audience, and I'll give you a story! The point is, when a topic continues to swirl around me in different contexts and places, it's probably time to talk about it!
What's the big deal with stories?
Are we looking for sympathy? Maybe. Are we proud and bragging? Maybe. Are we trying to relate? Maybe. Are we seeking help? Maybe.
If you read through some of this blog's posts, you'll find that I'm pretty adamant about the thought that when it comes to stories, none of us is all that special. Please understand, though, I make that statement in the context of us feeling sorry for ourselves when things suck; even more dangerous, for thinking that no one else has ever achieved the levels of failure and misery that we might be facing at any given moment. I use hard hitting statement as a bit of a reality check--for myself and others--because, as I was just reminded again yesterday, our stories are pretty similar.
My exact response when I was told that we all have a similar "story" is that brokenness is an immeasurably powerful equalizer. I think that's a pretty powerful statement, so I'd encourage you to re-read it. I'll stop short of calling it brilliant, because that's just being boastful...This equalizing power, I believe, is what makes sharing our stories with one another important.
Have you ever considered how remarkable it is that our military can take a group of kids from 18-25 or so years old, from virtually every walk of life, shove them together in a box of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual anguish that we call basic training, and inside of weeks, these kids would literally die for one another? There is an important common denominator when it comes to basic military training, and that is that everyone is equal (and at times some might say that everyone is equally worthless). This equalization regardless of race, religion, family income, education level, is one of the most powerful tools that our military has at its disposal. Quite different than brain washing or indoctrination, our young people are made powerful by the power of US instead of the power of ME.
Back to stories, I think that's what makes our stories important--sharing them is an incredible way of connecting at a very core human and spiritual level. On my recent trip to Ecuador, I was blessed to share stories with a number of different people from several age ranges, walks of life, and even people from a different culture who spoke a different language than me.
What I found was, at our core, I not only had way more in common with these people than I had previously thought, I found that we gave each other strength and hope in sharing, and our bond was strengthened incredibly in the desire to reach out with emotional and spiritual support for one another.
Most importantly, I found that sharing our stories shares the power, love, and authority of the God that we all share and serve. What better way to worship our Lord than to share stories of deliverance from seemingly unrecoverable circumstances and triumph over adversity? What better way to high-five God than to credit Him in the presence of others--believers or not--and let His light shine through us?
If you think you don't have a story, be careful. You might just need to dig a little deeper, and open up a bit. God might be trying to tell you to let Him work, and you're not getting the message. I was THAT guy. I actually, fairly regularly, said OUT LOUD, "I wish I had a story like xxxxx does. People just about have to listen when you have testimony that powerful." All the while, I believe God was gently knocking on my heart, and I wasn't listening....I was too hard headed and self righteous to listen to a soft voice, or heed a light course correction. I had to hit the bottom, dig another hole, and fall a few more times before I opened my heart and brain!
I ended up with one heckuva story. I tell people often, I don't relish how I got to where I am today, but I sure am glad to be here!
Spend some time listening to others. Be open. Be broken. Be humble. Be vulnerable. It makes us real and helps us all grow stronger together.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
More John Wayne and Jesus...
Oh...the things that get my mind churning. A good friend of mine shares his daily devotional reading, sometimes with some commentary by text message each morning. A few days ago, it was Proverbs 1:7, "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; but fools despise wisdom and instruction." Followed by, quoting the character Mattie Ross to Marshal Rooster Cogburn (the movie), "What have you gained when you have bested a fool?"
All the spinning together...a sermon about getting out of your comfort zone in order to do God's work. Not questioning what you don't know, but obeying what you do, and giving God the space to do the rest.
In two very unique and seemingly different ways, one business and one personal, I've been experiencing this on an extreme level lately. I feel a blog post coming on...
A story about my Pastor's experience as a young man with a woman from another Christian denomination who treated him like a leper because his church had...gasp...MUSIC! A reminder of the confusion of growing up in a methodist church and a fundamentalist southern baptist school. (Thanks mom and dad, you WONDER why I'm messed up?) A reminder that we're all messed up. Reminders of my days freshly sober, listening to the "Me Too" message at another local church. Realizing, that my screw ups are no more righteous and no less sinful than the next guy. Remembering, for some reason, the men's breakfast I went to a week after Heidi left me, literally crying out for help, and watching these guys, some of them married 10, 20, 30 and more years, talk about their marriage like it was a joke. Everything funny. One big sitcom. I left SO angry and discouraged.
Realizing that pride, arrogance, and ego are all exhibited differently by different people, but that in all of us, they block the relationship with God that I've spent nearly all my life seeking.
A phone call from a friend who recently was destroyed by a divorce. Another friend dealing with work problems in a very public arena, diligently trying to do the right thing. A request for an opinion from another, a request for assistance.
My divorced friend was introduced to me very shortly after Heidi and I halted the legal process (a week before our divorce was to be final, for those of you who don't know) and started trying to put things back together. He had been down a similar path as me...some substance abuse issues, lack of paying attention at home, complacent, lazy, husband-ship...until his wife left. I remember the first time we talked, how ANGRY he was, what a victim he was, and how wrong she was to do this to him. Basically, he was ME, 6 months earlier, and I was looking in a mirror at all the denial and anger and hurt and pride that destroyed my marriage.
I made it clear that I was not one to provide advice. We connected on a lot of levels, and I think at least on the surface, he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. The only advice I had was BE WRONG! Be ok being WRONG! Be humble, be WRONG! Not be a doormat, at least not for long, but be WRONG until you and her both believe you. It hurts, it hurts like hell. It SUCKS, especially when, as happened to both of us, those admissions of being wrong get used against you in court, and are used like weapons to attack to the very core of a man--and take his children away. Yeah, it sucked. Bad. Bad, bad. Bad. I haven't decided yet if I'll ever go back and look at my facebook archives from that period in my life. I saved them. I even backed them up just in case. Not for any purpose other than this--to remind me. To remind ME how my arrogant, stubborn, ass of a self could take something so incredible and foul it up so badly.
My friend may read this blog, so I'm not saying anything I wouldn't say to him...and I'm curious if he'll ever be able to dig deep and consider that what I'm about to say is as true for him as it was for me...Fighting to be right nearly cost me everything, and did cost him virtually everything.
I don't remember the exact topic...but I know we had a long conversation one time about what his attorney wanted him to do, and his conflict with what he thought was the RIGHT thing to do. His attorney won. The attorney won that battle with him, and won all the way to the bank, taking my friend's money, while encouraging him to fight for what he was "entitled" to, instead of fighting for what was right. A chance to suck it up and swallow some pride ended in a war that was waged in battles that sound like they were so fierce, even when he won, he lost. And he lost. His marriage. His kids. His bank accounts. Somewhere along the line, his job. His house. The equity from the house that used to be theirs. Bad advice. Choices. Consequences.
I don't know if his marriage could have been saved. I don't know details, and I never knew his wife. But I know that fighting for stuff, fighting to fight, and fighting to win for only the sake of ensuring someone else LOSES...that never, EVER has a good end. Thankfully, I got my butt spiritually, financially, emotionally, kicked hard enough fairly early in that game, that I decided the only fight I wanted to take on was fighting to attempt to save my marriage. Those of you who were around though, you know I didn't come to that conclusion without a lot of guidance, and a LOT of self-inflicted pain and misery!
My opinion, because of pride, anger, hurt, arrogance, and lack of obedience to God. The same stuff that puts us all down the wrong road. I don't care if you're a drunk, and adulterer, just a mean bitter person, or if you think you've got it all together. Your looking down your nose at my problems is just as screwed up as the problem I'm facing.
BOOM! Like a ton of bricks, I hung up the phone with him and it hit me...Heidi and I haven't been all rainbows and unicorns lately. I've been distracted, aloof, irritable, selfish...all those things I busted my ass to do to prove to her our marriage was the (second) most important thing in my life...I sure made those a big deal 18 months ago. What about now? I believe I'm looking into that distant mirror again...
That's a reality check.
My fingers are tired, but suffice it to say, that almost the exact same thing has happened, in the SAME WEEK on a business level. I've had the opportunity to explore and be quite vocal about the warts, shortcomings, and disappointments in a friend of mine's business. I've attempted to (mostly) respectfully try to offer up suggestions and useful commentary, but also realized just how easy it is to be critical of the issues in somebody else's house. The solutions are black and white, the problems are distinct and just require action. Come on, ACT!
I thought about that a lot last night and this morning. I'm thankful God put it on my heart to actually put things in the perspective of MY marriage, of MY business, and then rethink them.
Funny, the solutions get grayer, the problems get less definitive, the action more difficult.
I spent a lot of time trying really hard to apply this "lens" to my business today. There were, and will continue to be, some ugly things that need to be addressed. Some conversations that aren't fun, some situations I really didn't want to acknowledge, let alone deal with. But, I'm proud to say I started. I started, and was up front with my guys as to why I'm stirring things up when they are pretty good...it's because I want us to be REALLY good. I need to stir up my marriage a bit too, have some fun...so I'm going to do that this week too.
One of my favorite quotes has always been an old Will Rogers quote...often attributed to my dad, (because I write all his material! haha!) "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there." So...some days we'll back up and re-evaluate, some days we'll charge forward, and others, we'll just plod along happy that we're here. I'm good with that.
I texted my friend a couple of times today, he never responded. He might have been busy applying action...or he might have just been plain pissed off at my simplistic, easy, solutions to all that woes his world. I hope he calls me soon, though. I truly want to thank him for accelerating this very positive journey for me, and offer him some encouragement and support on his! Perspective is a very powerful tool.
Next time you see your neighbor's trash can out front three days after the trash comes (don't send him a letter, THANKS P.R. HOA), there's no problem offering to take it back behind the fence for him...but you probably want to check and make sure yours hasn't been sitting there even longer...
Blessings,
Scott
All the spinning together...a sermon about getting out of your comfort zone in order to do God's work. Not questioning what you don't know, but obeying what you do, and giving God the space to do the rest.
Ever walk into someone's house and wonder how they deal with that SMELL? Or pull into your driveway and see stuff in your neighbor's yard that is an eyesore and has been there for months? Easy, right? We've all been there. But, most of us are not aware enough to notice those same issues in our own houses.
A story about my Pastor's experience as a young man with a woman from another Christian denomination who treated him like a leper because his church had...gasp...MUSIC! A reminder of the confusion of growing up in a methodist church and a fundamentalist southern baptist school. (Thanks mom and dad, you WONDER why I'm messed up?) A reminder that we're all messed up. Reminders of my days freshly sober, listening to the "Me Too" message at another local church. Realizing, that my screw ups are no more righteous and no less sinful than the next guy. Remembering, for some reason, the men's breakfast I went to a week after Heidi left me, literally crying out for help, and watching these guys, some of them married 10, 20, 30 and more years, talk about their marriage like it was a joke. Everything funny. One big sitcom. I left SO angry and discouraged.
Realizing that pride, arrogance, and ego are all exhibited differently by different people, but that in all of us, they block the relationship with God that I've spent nearly all my life seeking.
A phone call from a friend who recently was destroyed by a divorce. Another friend dealing with work problems in a very public arena, diligently trying to do the right thing. A request for an opinion from another, a request for assistance.
My divorced friend was introduced to me very shortly after Heidi and I halted the legal process (a week before our divorce was to be final, for those of you who don't know) and started trying to put things back together. He had been down a similar path as me...some substance abuse issues, lack of paying attention at home, complacent, lazy, husband-ship...until his wife left. I remember the first time we talked, how ANGRY he was, what a victim he was, and how wrong she was to do this to him. Basically, he was ME, 6 months earlier, and I was looking in a mirror at all the denial and anger and hurt and pride that destroyed my marriage.
I made it clear that I was not one to provide advice. We connected on a lot of levels, and I think at least on the surface, he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. The only advice I had was BE WRONG! Be ok being WRONG! Be humble, be WRONG! Not be a doormat, at least not for long, but be WRONG until you and her both believe you. It hurts, it hurts like hell. It SUCKS, especially when, as happened to both of us, those admissions of being wrong get used against you in court, and are used like weapons to attack to the very core of a man--and take his children away. Yeah, it sucked. Bad. Bad, bad. Bad. I haven't decided yet if I'll ever go back and look at my facebook archives from that period in my life. I saved them. I even backed them up just in case. Not for any purpose other than this--to remind me. To remind ME how my arrogant, stubborn, ass of a self could take something so incredible and foul it up so badly.
My friend may read this blog, so I'm not saying anything I wouldn't say to him...and I'm curious if he'll ever be able to dig deep and consider that what I'm about to say is as true for him as it was for me...Fighting to be right nearly cost me everything, and did cost him virtually everything.
I don't remember the exact topic...but I know we had a long conversation one time about what his attorney wanted him to do, and his conflict with what he thought was the RIGHT thing to do. His attorney won. The attorney won that battle with him, and won all the way to the bank, taking my friend's money, while encouraging him to fight for what he was "entitled" to, instead of fighting for what was right. A chance to suck it up and swallow some pride ended in a war that was waged in battles that sound like they were so fierce, even when he won, he lost. And he lost. His marriage. His kids. His bank accounts. Somewhere along the line, his job. His house. The equity from the house that used to be theirs. Bad advice. Choices. Consequences.
I don't know if his marriage could have been saved. I don't know details, and I never knew his wife. But I know that fighting for stuff, fighting to fight, and fighting to win for only the sake of ensuring someone else LOSES...that never, EVER has a good end. Thankfully, I got my butt spiritually, financially, emotionally, kicked hard enough fairly early in that game, that I decided the only fight I wanted to take on was fighting to attempt to save my marriage. Those of you who were around though, you know I didn't come to that conclusion without a lot of guidance, and a LOT of self-inflicted pain and misery!
My opinion, because of pride, anger, hurt, arrogance, and lack of obedience to God. The same stuff that puts us all down the wrong road. I don't care if you're a drunk, and adulterer, just a mean bitter person, or if you think you've got it all together. Your looking down your nose at my problems is just as screwed up as the problem I'm facing.
BOOM! Like a ton of bricks, I hung up the phone with him and it hit me...Heidi and I haven't been all rainbows and unicorns lately. I've been distracted, aloof, irritable, selfish...all those things I busted my ass to do to prove to her our marriage was the (second) most important thing in my life...I sure made those a big deal 18 months ago. What about now? I believe I'm looking into that distant mirror again...
That's a reality check.
My fingers are tired, but suffice it to say, that almost the exact same thing has happened, in the SAME WEEK on a business level. I've had the opportunity to explore and be quite vocal about the warts, shortcomings, and disappointments in a friend of mine's business. I've attempted to (mostly) respectfully try to offer up suggestions and useful commentary, but also realized just how easy it is to be critical of the issues in somebody else's house. The solutions are black and white, the problems are distinct and just require action. Come on, ACT!
I thought about that a lot last night and this morning. I'm thankful God put it on my heart to actually put things in the perspective of MY marriage, of MY business, and then rethink them.
Funny, the solutions get grayer, the problems get less definitive, the action more difficult.
I spent a lot of time trying really hard to apply this "lens" to my business today. There were, and will continue to be, some ugly things that need to be addressed. Some conversations that aren't fun, some situations I really didn't want to acknowledge, let alone deal with. But, I'm proud to say I started. I started, and was up front with my guys as to why I'm stirring things up when they are pretty good...it's because I want us to be REALLY good. I need to stir up my marriage a bit too, have some fun...so I'm going to do that this week too.
One of my favorite quotes has always been an old Will Rogers quote...often attributed to my dad, (because I write all his material! haha!) "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there." So...some days we'll back up and re-evaluate, some days we'll charge forward, and others, we'll just plod along happy that we're here. I'm good with that.
I texted my friend a couple of times today, he never responded. He might have been busy applying action...or he might have just been plain pissed off at my simplistic, easy, solutions to all that woes his world. I hope he calls me soon, though. I truly want to thank him for accelerating this very positive journey for me, and offer him some encouragement and support on his! Perspective is a very powerful tool.
Next time you see your neighbor's trash can out front three days after the trash comes (don't send him a letter, THANKS P.R. HOA), there's no problem offering to take it back behind the fence for him...but you probably want to check and make sure yours hasn't been sitting there even longer...
Blessings,
Scott
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Some of you know that I've recently launched a casual apparel brand. Some of you have read about it, some have not. Sheepdog Apparel - Apparel for Heroes, and Those Who Love Them.
I don't think I ever really put my brain around my NEED to serve until I heard it put in the context of the Sheepdog. The Sheepdog does what God created it to do.
Often, when we marvel at the heroic actions of some, or we catch our breath at the tragedy that has befallen a hero and his family, we fail to remember that these heroes were doing what God created them to do.
I wrote the following about the concept of Sheepdogs as protectors when I put together the basic outline of what our business would look like.
I hope you enjoy reading it, and get something from it. You can send folks here to check it out, or you can send them to www.sheepdogtees.com , or they can find it (and like us) on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sheepdogtees
Scott
---
I don't think I ever really put my brain around my NEED to serve until I heard it put in the context of the Sheepdog. The Sheepdog does what God created it to do.
Often, when we marvel at the heroic actions of some, or we catch our breath at the tragedy that has befallen a hero and his family, we fail to remember that these heroes were doing what God created them to do.
I wrote the following about the concept of Sheepdogs as protectors when I put together the basic outline of what our business would look like.
I hope you enjoy reading it, and get something from it. You can send folks here to check it out, or you can send them to www.sheepdogtees.com , or they can find it (and like us) on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sheepdogtees
Scott
---
SHEEPDOG SIGNIFICANCE
There are wolves. There are sheep. And there are Sheepdogs.
There are hundreds of references to shepherds and sheep in the Bible. In both literal and parabolic context, sheep represent innocence, goodness, purity, and even weakness. Similarly, wolves and other predators represent evil, wrongdoing, deceit and ugliness. In Psalms 23, David refers to the Lord as his Shepherd. In the New Testament, there are references to Christ as both Lamb and the Shepherd. As our Great Shepherd, God promises to look after His flock.
Additionally, throughout history there is much documentation of the important role that Sheepdogs held in their relationship to the shepherd and his flock. Always vigilant. Loyal. Tirelessly performing the thankless duty of protecting the flock. Why? Because that's what God created Sheepdogs to do. This is their calling.
Much time has passed, and many things have changed since the earliest mention of Abel, son of Adam, as the first keeper of sheep. Wolves, however, still persist in their desire to bring harm and wrong to the world. Daily, there is a struggle, where only the strength and will of the chosen few can ensure the victory of good over evil.
Good remains victorious only because there are still those who are called. Those born to serve. Those who will stand against the evil that threatens the flock. They protect the weak. They defend the innocent. They will run toward the danger from which others flee. They will proactively seek out those who would harm their flock, and destroy them. They will, if necessary, give their lives in defense of their flock.
They are our first responders. They are our front line. They are our first, and sometimes our last and only defense. Military, Police, Fire, and others. Our neighbors, our friends, our brothers and sisters. They are to be revered, heralded as heroes. They are to be lifted up as servants of the Great Shepherd, and to be honored when in their midst.
They are SHEEPDOGS.
"As the Shepherd knows me, even so I know Him; and I lay down my life for His flock"
John 10:15
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
There's only one Duke kid...and you ain't him!
"I won't be wronged. I won't be insulted. I won't be laid a hand on. I don't do these things to other people, and I require the same from them." John Wayne, the Duke himself, said that as JB Books in the movie The Shootist.
I've always kind of had that little ideal in my head...good words to live by. Solid words. Man's words. Since he's such a big man, I pretty well ignore the fact that, in the movie, JB Books is pretty much a self-important jerk. So self important, in fact, that he can't die like other mere mortals, for crying out loud, he wants even his death to be an event.
Maybe I ought to give more thought to the axioms I choose to live by. I don't see any room for forgiveness or grace in Mr. Books' words. Oh big deal, just a movie, right? No. Programming brings emotions, emotions bring thoughts, thoughts bring actions, and actions bring consequences.
Today, for probably the first time in better than a year, I got angry. Not mad, not upset--I got flat out angry--angry to the core. Pissed off, lost my SH!T angry. And I was right to. I was right, and righteous, and insulted, and wronged.
I actually kept my composure externally fairly well. I didn't do any yelling or screaming. I didn't insult anyone personally. I was just hard. Cold. Mean. Angry.
I spent the better part of the day telling others about how I was wronged. And spoken down to. And insulted. I kept reliving the event in my head. Reminding myself how good I was for not lashing out and tearing the wrong-doer apart.
And you know what? It sucked. It consumed me. It ruined my day. Completely, totally devastated my ability to find any good in anyone or anything today.
On a good note, it's not like the bad old days. I don't have to hide from anyone, or be too awfully embarrassed as to how I behaved--externally. Frankly, I don't think I have any apologizing to do, other than that which has already occurred. But, I know the hate and anger that was in my heart. I know the vile ugly door that opened that has long been shut and not a part of my heart or thoughts. I'm not proud of that. I'm ashamed of that. I know. God knows. HE sees. I know.
Heidi knew. She saw it. She remembers that guy. I don't like that guy. She doesn't like that guy. She left THAT guy. That guy was a miserable wreck.
You know, the Duke is entertaining on the silver screen. Many young men who otherwise might not have had a role model could probably do much worse than to try to be like him. I suppose you could say I picked the wrong character to make a hero. There's certainly more Christ-like behavior in Mr. Andersen's death in The Cowboys. Taking a beating on behalf of the kids he was trying to protect and ultimately dying for them. Ok, sure. Better anyway.
But I think I need to look much further back, and a bit more introspectively to find my hero. How come we don't spend time making much of the hero that Jesus was? What have we done in our society to make little boys want to grow up and be like Jesus? Why don't we idolize Him? Why don't we brag about Him? We take our kids to church every week, send them to VBS, church camp, winter camp, whatever...if we aren't teaching them how awesome it is to be Christlike, what's the point?
Jim Burgen, pastor at Flatiron's Community Church in my hometown, did a great sermon series about Real Men, and what a real man Jesus was. A warrior. A winner. A guy who wouldn't back down from anyone. A guy big enough, and perfect enough, to give His life for us. He talked about how we spend a lot of time thinking about white robe Jesus, petting baby animals and patting kids on the head...I don't even know where that image came from.
What about super angry, righteous, pissed off Jesus when he was flipping out, and tearing up the tables in the temple? That Jesus was awesome. Righteous, awesome. And could turn around and forgive, and have grace, and give of Himself.
I want to be more like that.
I've always kind of had that little ideal in my head...good words to live by. Solid words. Man's words. Since he's such a big man, I pretty well ignore the fact that, in the movie, JB Books is pretty much a self-important jerk. So self important, in fact, that he can't die like other mere mortals, for crying out loud, he wants even his death to be an event.
Maybe I ought to give more thought to the axioms I choose to live by. I don't see any room for forgiveness or grace in Mr. Books' words. Oh big deal, just a movie, right? No. Programming brings emotions, emotions bring thoughts, thoughts bring actions, and actions bring consequences.
Today, for probably the first time in better than a year, I got angry. Not mad, not upset--I got flat out angry--angry to the core. Pissed off, lost my SH!T angry. And I was right to. I was right, and righteous, and insulted, and wronged.
I actually kept my composure externally fairly well. I didn't do any yelling or screaming. I didn't insult anyone personally. I was just hard. Cold. Mean. Angry.
I spent the better part of the day telling others about how I was wronged. And spoken down to. And insulted. I kept reliving the event in my head. Reminding myself how good I was for not lashing out and tearing the wrong-doer apart.
And you know what? It sucked. It consumed me. It ruined my day. Completely, totally devastated my ability to find any good in anyone or anything today.
On a good note, it's not like the bad old days. I don't have to hide from anyone, or be too awfully embarrassed as to how I behaved--externally. Frankly, I don't think I have any apologizing to do, other than that which has already occurred. But, I know the hate and anger that was in my heart. I know the vile ugly door that opened that has long been shut and not a part of my heart or thoughts. I'm not proud of that. I'm ashamed of that. I know. God knows. HE sees. I know.
Heidi knew. She saw it. She remembers that guy. I don't like that guy. She doesn't like that guy. She left THAT guy. That guy was a miserable wreck.
You know, the Duke is entertaining on the silver screen. Many young men who otherwise might not have had a role model could probably do much worse than to try to be like him. I suppose you could say I picked the wrong character to make a hero. There's certainly more Christ-like behavior in Mr. Andersen's death in The Cowboys. Taking a beating on behalf of the kids he was trying to protect and ultimately dying for them. Ok, sure. Better anyway.
But I think I need to look much further back, and a bit more introspectively to find my hero. How come we don't spend time making much of the hero that Jesus was? What have we done in our society to make little boys want to grow up and be like Jesus? Why don't we idolize Him? Why don't we brag about Him? We take our kids to church every week, send them to VBS, church camp, winter camp, whatever...if we aren't teaching them how awesome it is to be Christlike, what's the point?
Jim Burgen, pastor at Flatiron's Community Church in my hometown, did a great sermon series about Real Men, and what a real man Jesus was. A warrior. A winner. A guy who wouldn't back down from anyone. A guy big enough, and perfect enough, to give His life for us. He talked about how we spend a lot of time thinking about white robe Jesus, petting baby animals and patting kids on the head...I don't even know where that image came from.
What about super angry, righteous, pissed off Jesus when he was flipping out, and tearing up the tables in the temple? That Jesus was awesome. Righteous, awesome. And could turn around and forgive, and have grace, and give of Himself.
I want to be more like that.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Do it AGAIN! Do it AGAIN!
Some of my most trying times as a parent can come in moments that I build up in my mind to be great moments for my kids, only to find them unwilling to try--being afraid of the outcome. From new foods to four wheelers to jumping in the deep end...getting kids to try things you know they'll enjoy could be a topic all of its own. However, I just want to briefly focus on the after effects.
Almost without fail, after the ice of scariness is shattered, amid giant smiles and laughter, comes words I think all parents know too well--and they can equally make us smile and make us crazy, "Do it AGAIN!"
From little tiny Kate, who didn't want me to lift her out of the water and dunk her head, to that same little girl after I finally took the risk and tossed her up in air and let her FLY and then go under...coughing and sputtering, spitting water out of her mouth and snot running out of her nose, "Do it AGAIN Daddy!" "Again!" "Again, Daddy!" To utter exhaustion on both our parts.
From bicycles to piggy back rides to wrestling around to throwing a ball or being afraid to shoot a gun...from the ashes of apprehension come the growth of learning and empowerment and enjoyment.
Watching in these moments sparks all kinds of emotions: love, pride, joy, the bittersweet realization with each new milestone reached that my little girls are growing up!
Today in church, during a great sermon around the events of Acts 4, I drew an interesting parallel.
For those like me who don't quite have each story, chapter, and verse of the Bible quite memorized, let me bring you up to speed. Jesus was crucified and rose a couple weeks ago. The disciples, following their directions, are spreading His word and the word of his resurrection, and basically, are starting the Christian church. The folks who killed Jesus are none too pleased, seeing as how they thought they had disposed of their problems, so they arrest Peter and John both for spreading the word, and for calling upon God to heal a crippled up dude in the temple.
Peter and John are held in jail, and then "tried" in a religious court. The leaders are pretty stumped. They've got a dude who used to be crippled who's dancing around and singing about Jesus, and, the Bible says, about 5,000 of his closest friends, give or take, who are soaking up the message and spreading it fast!
So the leaders decide killing Peter and John may not be in their collective interest. Instead, they cut them loose, but tell them to shut up and go away. Peter's pretty bold at this point, seeing as how he was fully braced up for death, so he pretty much thumbs his nose and says, "No thanks religious dudes, I'm gonna follow God's orders instead of yours," and goes on his way.
Peter and John get back together with the other believers, and they run away and hide, and vow to never put themselves that close to danger again! Then they prayed, "Dear God, thank You for saving us, please protect us so THAT never happens again!"
Actually, I made that last part up. That's probably what I would do on a lot of days. I'd pray thanks to God for saving my skin, and make a mental note of which part of town to not open my mouth in again. I'd probably even forget to outwardly give Him the praise for saving my sorry butt in the first place--people would be patting me on the back, "Dang man, you're so brave, standing up to those religious dudes," and I'd be all, "Yeah, those punks didn't scare me...they are LUCKY they let me go so I didn't have to mess them up!"
Peter and John didn't do that. They met with their peeps, and they all kinda partied it up, and celebrated. Then, they did the exact opposite of my made up bit above...They prayed to God and said, "Again! Do it again!" What THEY did, was they saw how many people were turned onto Jesus by their actions, and they said, "Awesome God! Do it AGAIN!" "Use ME AGAIN God!"
About this time, I caught a whole bunch of analogies swimming in my head, but the most obvious is that of my Spiritual Father making His best efforts to prod and cajole me into jumping off into the deep end. He knows the reward will be incredible, but He gave me the free will to miss out.
How many awesome experiences have I missed because I wasn't willing to, "try that vegetable," or speak up in an opportune situation? How many incredible experiences will I never know because when it was my turn to let go of the rope, I refused? I'll probably never know.
Changing gears ever so slightly, how many times did I fail to see the growth in what was a horrible life experience--a tragedy, a death, or even just a bad day? Instead, at the end, the best thanks I can muster is to thank God for getting me through it, and then I pray to never have it happen again?
Where's my inner child? Where's my spiritual, "Do it AGAIN?"
I wonder what my life would be like if I lived that way?
More importantly, how much glory would I be giving to God to allow Him the honor and respect and love of seeing one of His children experience something awesome? Wow! If I feel the way I do when my kids experience joy, how could it be any different for God?
Most of you know how my life turned indescribably for the better after my entire world imploded with my marriage. I've thanked God profusely for the growth that came out of that, but after today I think I missed the bigger point. NO! I don't think I need to pray to God to allow my marriage to unravel again, lest I forget the lesson, I'm not saying that at all...but I do believe I need to ask for more opportunities to experience spiritual growth, and the fulfillment that comes with that.
My life experience tells me that all growth, all reward, comes only at the expense of risk. The risk may be simply placing myself out of my comfort zone, or it may come in the form of indescribable tragedy for myself or someone else, or any opportunity in between.
I'm going to do my best to find my inner spiritual child. I want to live life with a lot more, "Do it AGAIN!"
Almost without fail, after the ice of scariness is shattered, amid giant smiles and laughter, comes words I think all parents know too well--and they can equally make us smile and make us crazy, "Do it AGAIN!"
From little tiny Kate, who didn't want me to lift her out of the water and dunk her head, to that same little girl after I finally took the risk and tossed her up in air and let her FLY and then go under...coughing and sputtering, spitting water out of her mouth and snot running out of her nose, "Do it AGAIN Daddy!" "Again!" "Again, Daddy!" To utter exhaustion on both our parts.
From bicycles to piggy back rides to wrestling around to throwing a ball or being afraid to shoot a gun...from the ashes of apprehension come the growth of learning and empowerment and enjoyment.
Watching in these moments sparks all kinds of emotions: love, pride, joy, the bittersweet realization with each new milestone reached that my little girls are growing up!
Today in church, during a great sermon around the events of Acts 4, I drew an interesting parallel.
For those like me who don't quite have each story, chapter, and verse of the Bible quite memorized, let me bring you up to speed. Jesus was crucified and rose a couple weeks ago. The disciples, following their directions, are spreading His word and the word of his resurrection, and basically, are starting the Christian church. The folks who killed Jesus are none too pleased, seeing as how they thought they had disposed of their problems, so they arrest Peter and John both for spreading the word, and for calling upon God to heal a crippled up dude in the temple.
Peter and John are held in jail, and then "tried" in a religious court. The leaders are pretty stumped. They've got a dude who used to be crippled who's dancing around and singing about Jesus, and, the Bible says, about 5,000 of his closest friends, give or take, who are soaking up the message and spreading it fast!
So the leaders decide killing Peter and John may not be in their collective interest. Instead, they cut them loose, but tell them to shut up and go away. Peter's pretty bold at this point, seeing as how he was fully braced up for death, so he pretty much thumbs his nose and says, "No thanks religious dudes, I'm gonna follow God's orders instead of yours," and goes on his way.
Peter and John get back together with the other believers, and they run away and hide, and vow to never put themselves that close to danger again! Then they prayed, "Dear God, thank You for saving us, please protect us so THAT never happens again!"
Actually, I made that last part up. That's probably what I would do on a lot of days. I'd pray thanks to God for saving my skin, and make a mental note of which part of town to not open my mouth in again. I'd probably even forget to outwardly give Him the praise for saving my sorry butt in the first place--people would be patting me on the back, "Dang man, you're so brave, standing up to those religious dudes," and I'd be all, "Yeah, those punks didn't scare me...they are LUCKY they let me go so I didn't have to mess them up!"
Peter and John didn't do that. They met with their peeps, and they all kinda partied it up, and celebrated. Then, they did the exact opposite of my made up bit above...They prayed to God and said, "Again! Do it again!" What THEY did, was they saw how many people were turned onto Jesus by their actions, and they said, "Awesome God! Do it AGAIN!" "Use ME AGAIN God!"
About this time, I caught a whole bunch of analogies swimming in my head, but the most obvious is that of my Spiritual Father making His best efforts to prod and cajole me into jumping off into the deep end. He knows the reward will be incredible, but He gave me the free will to miss out.
How many awesome experiences have I missed because I wasn't willing to, "try that vegetable," or speak up in an opportune situation? How many incredible experiences will I never know because when it was my turn to let go of the rope, I refused? I'll probably never know.
Changing gears ever so slightly, how many times did I fail to see the growth in what was a horrible life experience--a tragedy, a death, or even just a bad day? Instead, at the end, the best thanks I can muster is to thank God for getting me through it, and then I pray to never have it happen again?
Where's my inner child? Where's my spiritual, "Do it AGAIN?"
I wonder what my life would be like if I lived that way?
More importantly, how much glory would I be giving to God to allow Him the honor and respect and love of seeing one of His children experience something awesome? Wow! If I feel the way I do when my kids experience joy, how could it be any different for God?
Most of you know how my life turned indescribably for the better after my entire world imploded with my marriage. I've thanked God profusely for the growth that came out of that, but after today I think I missed the bigger point. NO! I don't think I need to pray to God to allow my marriage to unravel again, lest I forget the lesson, I'm not saying that at all...but I do believe I need to ask for more opportunities to experience spiritual growth, and the fulfillment that comes with that.
My life experience tells me that all growth, all reward, comes only at the expense of risk. The risk may be simply placing myself out of my comfort zone, or it may come in the form of indescribable tragedy for myself or someone else, or any opportunity in between.
I'm going to do my best to find my inner spiritual child. I want to live life with a lot more, "Do it AGAIN!"
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