Learning this through experience this year. Giving more access to this life I’m stewarding. More then ever before.
I met a man from Michigan that considered the worst. Daily he traveled to the nursing home to feed his wife both lunch and dinner. Fully-engaged in her well-being, he set a precedent that few felt that his love for her required. For, long ago her memory had gone, and she met a new man every day who brought her food.
My imagination tells me he considered this scenario long before it was a reality. For decades, her care had been his responsibility. In these final days she is entrusted to professionals. Although this may not have been what he imagined at the beginning of their journey, he presses through these last days by her side with the promises of love entrenched between them.
I am another man from Michigan just starting on the marital journey. My personal commitment to my wife was made well before I ever considered what might test our love. Now, I’m wondering what could ever change my permanent promise. I stood before hundreds of witnesses and confidently said my memorized lines two summers ago:
In the presence of God and these our family and friends, I Kevin take you Rachel to be my wife, promising with Divine assistance to be your loving and faithful husband, loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know.
My permanent promise to you is to be one of body, one of soul, and one of spirit, knowing that unified we are far more than we have ever been apart. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, getting to know the woman you will become, by ministering to you with kindness every day.
As your husband I will protect you, provide for you, and lead you with tenderness and understanding. I promise to love and cherish you through all that God has in store for us on this journey.
I used the words “permanent promise” without qualifying anything that would nullify this permanence. What if she cheats? What if she cheats twice? What if she leaves me? What if she leaves her faith? Many couples traditionally exchange the promise “until death do us part.” The bruised state of the modern marriage leaves one skeptical of the permanence of most marital commitments.
By its very nature, a permanent commitment of love until death cannot have restrictions or caveats. The promise must be made only after considering the worst and the best – even if knowing either is impossible.
The “what if” questions in my marriage are daunting because I never anticipate being that husband that will visit and feed his wife in the nursing home every evening. I’m only beginning to consider what my permanent promise will require of me. It may require that I entrust my wife’s protection to someone else if I leave this earth first.
So, there are two men from Michigan on the same journey for better or for worse. The first man visits his wife daily completing his love through the faithfulness of his commitment. The second man considers the same praying for a different fate.
The first man’s vow ended after years of longsuffering. His love was too strong to quit on his bride. It would have been understandable for her death to be a welcomed freedom for him, but with tears he still speaks of his lost friend. That is a permanent promise that no “worst” can break.
My family was always more of an “indoor” family. We never went camping or on nature walks or spent weekends in the mountains. Our family vacations were to places like Sea World or Disneyland or Grandpa’s house. But for Christmas, 1995, my sister and I got brand new fishing poles. Mine was blue. For months, my dad talked about getting his fishing license so he could take us fishing. After the ground thawed, he took us into the front yard and showed us how to cast a line. I don’t think I was that good because the lesson was really short.
After months of anticipation, summer came and the fish were calling. It was a hot, muggy July day on the Chesapeake Bay. My dad loaded me and my sister into the backseat of the old red van. Shania Twain began pouring out of the speakers as we drove away from civilization. We turned onto a dirt road, winding deep into the recesses of the Air Station towards the shoreline. An old gas station seemed to appear out of nowhere, and we pulled off the road into the parking lot. We jumped out of the van and ran inside. My dad led us to the ice cream cooler full of bloodworms – bait. They also carried an assortment of sugary treats. Dad was always the one to go to for exceptions to the “house rules,” one of which was “no soda.” With a little bit of sweet-talking, we left the store with a clear plastic container full of bloodworms and a Cherry Coke and five atomic fireballs each.
Just a little further down the road, and we reached the pier. We clamored out of the van with poles in tow to find the water to ourselves. It was very peaceful until we arrived. We each chose a place along the railing. Dad got us set up first and then attempted to attend to his own line. The problem was that every time I cast my line, it got tangled around the pier and Dad had to come and fix it. My sister caught a piece of garbage. I lost my worm. I didn’t bait one single hook the entire time. I stood against the railing, fireballs stuffed in my cheeks and Cherry Coke in hand, watching my dad bait my hook and cast the line and listened to his pointers. They fell on deaf ears. The sun was beating down on us, and my sister and I began to whine. Fishing was not actually that fun, I discovered. I don’t remember how long we stayed, but it wasn’t long enough for anyone to catch a fish. We packed up our gear and headed home. I’d like to think that we had Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks for dinner. It’s how we indoor people get our seafood.
The sun shone brightly through the tiny openings in the beige vinyl blinds covering the window. The room was beginning to warm from those late-morning beams of light. “What time is it?” Jerry mumbled as he raised his hand just over his brow to protect his sleepy eyes from the blazing light. He moaned in annoyance, partly because getting out of bed seemed a painful endeavor, partly because he knew what a large part of the day he had wasted while sleeping through most of the morning.
Jerry lay in bed for a while longer. His blanket tightened around him as he rolled on his side to turn his back on the sun’s bright light. He lay there closing and then opening his eyes for a couple of minutes at a time as he pondered the prospects of the day. He let out a long, pitiful groan as he stretched his body. “I don’t wanna get outta bed. I wish I could just stay here forever.”
After some more moaning and complaining, Jerry rolled onto his stomach and in one tired motion pushed himself up with his arms, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and set his bare feet on the cold floor. He rubbed his face, scratched his head and propelled himself up off the bed with a hard forward motion of his shoulders. He stumbled out of his bedroom to the toilet where he sat for far too long, thinking about what he should do the rest of the day. Maybe he would go for a walk, or read. He knew he needed some kind of stimulation, but knowing and doing were concepts that didn’t often connect in Jerry’s world. Jerry urged himself from the toilet, went to the sink to wash his hands and looked at himself in the mirror. “I look gross,” he thought as he surveyed his greasy, thinning hair. Pressing back his bangs, he examined how far his hairline had receded, then wiped the oil from his hand on his shorts. “I should shower,” he said, turning from the mirror and plodding out of the bathroom into the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen.
He searched for something to eat, though he wasn’t particularly hungry; it was just habit. He knew he should eat, but he was more or less indifferent to the task. After rummaging through the cupboard and the refrigerator, he gave up on the search, walked into the living room and plopped himself onto the couch.
He just sat there, slouched back, nearly motionless for what seemed an eternity, staring blankly at the wall. He wasn’t thinking about much. In fact, most of the time he wasn’t thinking about anything; he just stared at that drab white wall.
At some point he noticed he was barely breathing. He was breathing so shallowly he could barely see his belly move as his diaphragm contracted. He concentrated on breathing more deeply: filling his lungs to capacity, slowly and evenly exhaling. His lungs seemed to fight this control; he began to hyperventilate. Sitting up – back slightly arched, feet flat on the floor, clasped hands on the crown of his head like a sprinter after a hard run – Jerry tried to regain normal breathing. Finally, his breathing calmed, and he relaxed. He laid his head back on the back of the couch, looked at the ceiling and with a sigh said, “I need to do something.”
Jerry’s life seemed like a battle: a never-ending fight to live. Joy was a concept he’d long dismissed as fantasy; happiness something enjoyed only by the fortunate, or ignorant. Hope seemed little more than a trite attempt for future significance despite inevitable failure. Jerry himself contradicted his own philosophies, if not in practice, in thought. He knew joy and happiness and significance. He had experienced them; but all seemed lost. In that moment he saw none of them in his life, and foresaw nothing of their existence in his future. Deep in his psyche he knew that they could come around again, but for Jerry, the moment, immediacy, was everything. He could not see joy or happiness or hope in the moment, so they were forever lost.
Jerry fought every day, but his defense was generally isolation. It seemed logical that, if he didn’t try to fix his problems, if he just ignored everything, things would work out. Sort of like a conservative defense of a capitalist economy during a recession: if you just leave it alone, it will fix itself. So, Jerry ignored most everything. Maybe he had grown used to people doing all the work in his life: Mom and Dad always coming to the rescue in times of trouble; friends cultivating and maintaining friendships; teachers giving nearly endless extensions on projects. Maybe it was laziness: he just didn’t try because he didn’t care about anyone or anything. More than likely, it was fear.
Jerry feared failure and rejection. The most logical way to avoid these most terrible outcomes, in Jerry’s mind, was isolation. If he didn’t expose himself to situations in which he might experience failure or rejection, then he would not experience one or both. So, he just sat there, staring at the wall.
I hate to admit it but I’ve made some dating mistakes in my life. My relationship with Sallie Mae is the most one-sided relationship I have ever entered into. Seriously, out of all the girls I have dated, I’ve never felt like any of them sucked as much life out of me as Sallie has.
I remember the first day I was introduced to her. It was like yesterday. Some young, barely-graduated advisor suggested her to me as the fix-all to my problems. He painted her as a temporary solution to the problem of fund-deficiency that would have prevented me from attending college. “No problem,” he smiling suggested “Sallie here will magically make the impossible a dream come true.” And I bought it. I was in love. Sallie fixed everything. For four years, she and I were the best of friends. She was the only girl I could have a relationship with but rarely even had to acknowledge. I didn’t have to hold her hand in public. I didn’t have to share my feelings. I really didn’t have to put anything into the relationship at all. Sallie was awesome. Little did I know, later she would hit me with an emotional blow for all the relational withdrawals I had made without any deposits in return. It would be a sad day.
That day came in 2004: graduation. It was supposed to be this glorious day, a victorious celebration over a rigorous academic marathon. And it was temporarily. A few weeks later Sallie wrote me a note. She mailed it and everything. It even included a gift. “How thoughtful!” I said to myself. The letter, however, offered no congratulatory salutations on my academic accomplishments. Instead, the letter projected a contractual commitment between Sallie and me. Oh, and the gift–it was a coupon book of loan payment tabs. Sallie stuck it to me by letting me know we’d be seeing a lot of each other. She arranged a calendar of monthly meetings for the two of us. How thoughtful.
Sallie wasn’t as great anymore. She became a blood-sucking biddy that would steal my smile at least once a month. Gold digger. Sadly, we still see each other to this day.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m really thankful for what Sallie allowed me to accomplish. I now have both undergraduate and graduate degrees and Sallie helped get it all started. But I still wish I had known then what I know now. I probably would have chosen a different path. I would have heeded my dad’s advice: “Never date a girl you don’t want to end up marrying.”
Sallie won’t always be there, and I’m excited about that. Hopefully she’ll be gone sooner rather than later, but for all you young, college-hopeful guys out there, I’ll just say this: “There are other fish in the sea.”
I am really selfish. God began to gently lead me to this truth (like it was some big surprise) last year. I knew that my prayer life wasn’t supposed to be all about me, but I also wanted to cry out to God with my issues as opposed to turning elsewhere. What was missing was both praise to God and interceding for others. For the sake of this moment, I’m going to focus on my lessons in praising God. I often wondered why I was still full of anxiety and fear regarding my future when I spent so much time praying about it. Philippians 4:6 says, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Um, so where was my peace? Did it get lost in some epic battle on its way down from heaven? Doubtful.
But my prayers were more focused on my problems than they were on God’s power. I was looking at the size of my problem instead of the greatness of God. Even though I said “thank you” to God often, I wasn’t focused on His goodness. That “with thanksgiving” section of the passage was more crucial than I knew. I needed to focus on praising God, but there was a disconnect for me. I still thought of praise as fancy church words that hold little meaning for me or thought of it as lots and lots of singing. There was so much more to it, I knew, but I wasn’t sure what it was. So I turned to the Psalms. If anyone was known for praising God well, it was David, and he wrote the majority of the book.
I noticed Psalms to have a number of common threads. It’s amazing that after growing up in a Christian home, and walking with God for years, there is still so much to learn. Psalms has taught me that praise is so much different from my mindset about it. First, David praises God by proclaiming his desperate need for Him. No matter how comfortable we are in life, we cannot do nothing nor have anything of everlasting value without Christ. Secondly, David recognized God as sovereign. While most of us would look to other people, circumstances, or even ourselves, David saw God as in control. His victories against the enemies were up to God. Also, he found his fulfillment in God. Psalm 16:5 says, “O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot.” David expected great things from God. By doing so, he showed his faith that God was able to do all that He had promised. How often do I go to God sheepishly, afraid to ask too much? God desires to do great things for us as we place Him first. Lastly, I noticed that the writers praise God for specific works He has performed. They actually boast in and dwell on God’s greatness in creation, Scriptures, and personal and national victories.
Chapters 3 and 4 in Joshua highlight this truth. Joshua leads the people of Israel across the Jordan River to fight for the Promised Land after God instructs them. God stopped the sea (can you imagine?)so they could all cross over on dry ground. While they crossed, 12 of the men, representing the 12 tribes of Israel, each took a stone from the bed of the dry sea. They were to serve as reminders. Mementos of God’s incredible faithfulness. Children from generations following would see those stones and ask about them, encouraging the story to be told over and over again.
What an incredible principle. The more I focus on God’s faithfulness and power, the less I focus on myself and my worries…and the more my needs are met. Praising God increases our faith because we focus on His ability instead of our inability, His sovereignty instead of our lack of control, and His life instead of our sin. God has done so many wonders in my own life. I can remember, after years of facing doubt about my salvation, sitting on my bed crying before God. I could feel the Holy Spirit speaking to me, revealing the source of my doubts, and freeing me from that bondage. It was amazing, and I can remember it vividly. I was compelled to share it with others, and it was wonderful to praise God about it with them. There are so many of those turning points in my life that are as monumental as those stones were to the people of Israelite. It’s my turn to set up reminders of God’s miracles. They will be both reminders of the works of God and reminders to focus on Him instead of myself.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been in leadership. Ever since I can remember people, I always end up leading others. I don’t always understand this, but nonetheless, I do the best I can. I would say that the leadership qualities in my life have been born from a lot of mistakes. I don’t always do what’s right, but I have been trying to learn. I guess for me, leadership is taking a very different shape than I have previously believed.
When you think of someone who leads (whether in church or elsewhere), we most naturally think of someone who is wise, take charge, organizationally savvy, charismatic, and flawless. I have always wrestled with this because I have known leaders who were all of these things, but they also lacked a lot of other qualities I believe leaders should have. The qualities are relational like vulnerability, humility, servant’s heart, and love. However, sometimes those who lead from the “relational” aspects miss the boat when it comes to confrontation or pioneering.
I think that I flux between the “traditional” and “relational” components of leadership. The balance between the two would tend to be recognized as “the better way.” I recently read a story that shed some light on this idea of leadership. God put it on my heart to read 2 Chronicles. I assure you, I was not elated as I began to think of the Chronicles being long lists of names, kings, etc. However, I was struck deeply when reading the story of Solomon as he rose to kingship.
Now I am very aware that Solomon is not our shining example in Scripture, but the Lord did reveal something very powerful to me as I read verses 7-13 of chapter 1. Solomon got something very right at the beginning of his life. This passage is the story concerning how Solomon became the wisest man on the earth. I thought – oh yeah, I remember this, Solomon asks God for wisdom and gets everything else too. I planned on skipping over the passage, but for some reason I read it again, slower this time.
I read words like: “…give me now wisdom and knowledge to go out and come in before this people, for who can govern this people of Yours, which is so great.” And then I saw, “Because this was in your heart…” Solomon’s words do not sound like a man that already had it all together. Instead you hear this trepidation of leading people. He realized the intensity of the daily pressure (“to go out and come in”), he realized the value of the people (“this people of Yours”), and the influence he would have (“who can govern”).
I was amazed that this man really believed that he lacked what he needed in order to guide and lead these people. This was a son of David, Israel’s super king. He had “all the right friends in all the right places.” He was set up for success. His dad had left him the plans for things he was to establish. But he realized that even with all of that, he needed God to help him lead these people.
Solomon asked the Lord to help him lead from his lack. He didn’t have the understanding and knowledge to lead the Israelites. His heart was honest before the Lord and was selfless, really seeing that his leadership was not about him having the right qualities or specifics of kingship, but needing the Lord to empower him to lead.
I mean in some ways I am blown away that God tells Solomon whatever you want, I will give you and Solomon answers not for all the wisdom and knowledge in the world (intellectually), but he wants to have the wisdom and knowledge to lead others in the way they were to go. And God granted his request and gave him abundance in anything else he could’ve requested because “this was in his heart.” This language sounds like David’s epithet of being “a man after God’s heart.” I wonder what would be in the leader’s hearts that we know. Would it be for more charisma? Maybe more education? Or even more experience?
I know that I am challenged to examine what’s in my heart after reading Solomon’s story. I think leaders need to be chosen not on what they can do, but what they cannot do without the grants of heaven. I am taking the challenge of asking God to help me lead from my lack and am echoing the words of Paul: “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
Stress and change go hand and hand. They are like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, macaroni and cheese, Chris Deitsch and John Deere. Seriously, you never have one without the other. Many suggest five of the most stressful life changes include:
- Moving (change of scenery)
- A New Job (change of vocation)
- Financial Misfortune (change of security)
- Having a Baby (change of family
- Marriage (change of EVERYTHING!)
Well guess what? I’m taking on three of the top five practically at the same time. Bam! Some would say that’s a bold strategy.
The changes started last June when my wife abruptly announced to me that I was going to be a father. What!?! Yep, a father. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve come a long way. When my wife and I first got married, kids were the last thing I wanted, at least for the time being. I wanted “business time” without the “daddy daycare”. Plus, we barely had enough cash to support ourselves. There was really no way I was giving up my microwavable meals so that some kid could eat strained spinach. I’ve come along way.
Around the same time, another change took place. God started “working his magic” again. What’s that mean? It meant that the job I had been working hard to learn how to do for nearly the past three years was soon drawing to an end. Crap. I was finally comfortable. I finally didn’t have to ask someone else for the answer to all of the questions. I was finally known. I even had 1,000 brand spanking new business cards. Won’t need those anymore.
And so really the aforementioned changes led to the third change. We were living about fifty minutes away from my new job in someone else’s basement. Nice. So we had to start shopping for a new home. Have you ever tried to buy something that cost a whole lot with practically nothing? Yeah, I found out banks aren’t so happy with that. Who would’ve thought?
And like I said before, stress seemed to accompany each change, or at least the opportunity for stress was there. I really struggled with the stress at first but then realized I didn’t need to be overwhelmed. These changes were really just opportunities for faith.
So now it’s the beginning of February and two of the three changes have already taken place. We moved into a new home in November, I started a new job in January, and in about three and a half weeks I’ll welcome my first little daughter into this world. Has the change been stressful? Not really. It’s only been an opportunity for faith. And God has continued to work his magic all along the way.
Stress and change go hand and hand; at least that’s what I used to think. Maybe peanut butter and jelly aren’t that great together either, at least not all the time. That’s why peanut butter and banana sandwiches are so good. They’re a bold strategy…and I like bold strategies.
My entire life has been characterized by change. My memories of the past are divided into three-year segments, each chunk taking place in a different part of the United States. I have lived in six states, have had fifteen different bedrooms, and would classify myself as an expert packer. I don’t keep in touch with any childhood friends. I remember the first time it dawned on me that people had the freedom to move whenever and wherever they wanted; that was so contrary to my experience. The military had always told us where to move. But, I don’t know any other way. I think I would get bored living in the same town my entire life. I still get antsy after a few years, never feeling the need to be permanently grounded.
The last time my dad was told to pack it up was when I was eleven years old. As usual, my family was moving mid-school year. We lived in Maryland, I was in the sixth grade, and I got out of a spelling test the day we left. We drove to Middle of Nowhere, North Carolina where seemingly everyone had known each other since birth. I, being the quiet kid in the back of the classroom, made friends slowly. But, I was used to being the new girl. I think my math teacher felt sorry for me, because one day she invited me to her church youth group. My family had attended church periodically, but I wouldn’t exactly say we were committed. That summer, I ended up accepting Christ at youth camp.
Changes were small at first, and I hit all those bumps in the road that new believers are prone to hit. Of course, I am able to look back and see how my heart and my mind have been and are continuing to be transformed by Christ’s Spirit. He has affected every area of my life. As our relationship grows, I am able to see geographic change as connected with something bigger. I lived in Virginia for four years for undergrad where the Lord changed my concept of family. Family is more than just flesh and blood – it’s those people who love you and are willing to walk through the ups and downs of life with you. But, it takes a lot of time and commitment to develop these relationships – it’s not like crazy Uncle Bud whose presence in your life is involuntary. With non flesh and blood family comes the beautiful freedom to choose to love. Then, He took me to Illinois – where I didn’t know a soul – where He’s changing my concept of a career and a calling. I am created for Christ’s purposes, and my life choices are to reflect that. I’m finding out that there is something that I love and am good at and, if done in Christ’s strength, can be used to expand the Kingdom. If I had never moved to these places, I would have missed out on countless formative experiences. There is always an element of the unknown in change, but instead of expecting the worst, why not expect that things might turn out better than you could ever imagine?
The advertisement read, “More information @ Brentwood Church.” I was stunned by the obvious grammatical errors. The creator left spaces between “@,” “Brentwood,” and “Church.” I passed this error off as another poor church marketing attempt until I realized that my mind has been warped by twitter-grammar.
Leaving spaces between the “@” sign and your Twitter username breaks an important aspect of Twitter communication – the one-click connection.
Someone made a choice to use the “@” sign while designating other Twitter users and redefined the sign’s identity. It caught on. Twitter developers started hyper-linking the usernames and adopted the user-generated innovation.1 The “@” sign signifier was not a Twitter-generated idea but the company allowed user-innovation to create benchmark growth.
The newest celebrity on twitter is the “@” sign. Seriously. The sign shows up in every conversation. I cannot talk to or about someone without him starting the conversation and making a quick connection between my reference and the referent.
Before Twitter, I used this sign as a necessary function to complete an email address outside my network, to be lazy in text language, and to cuss without cussing ($#!@).
Many open-source companies are relying on their users to innovate change from personal experience. Open-source software development became increasingly important for products in an internet-based world. Traditionally, when a product was released, new versions and updates would come from only the original producers of the product. Open-source adherents use a different philosophy. By collaborating with users and enhancing the value of peer-production, organizations can make significant changes for less overhead by inviting exploration with their product. Opening the back-end or “insides” of a product to the public is necessary for peer-production. Users then take this back-end and build off the framework of the product.
Examine smart phone applications as an example. Unlimited applications can be built on the open-platform of mobile operating systems. Each person’s iPhone has the opportunity to be different and personalized because they incorporate open-sourced applications into the everyday use of the device. Companies like Google, Apple, HTC, Nokia, etc. are capitalizing on rushing a base product into the market and allowing users to make the products great with personalized open-sourced material.
With only 156 employees, according to a New York Times article dated October 2009, Twitter has become a global phenomenon.2 By collaborating with users and allowing unintended change to redefine the Twitter DNA, directors have garnished partners in the development process and valued user development by following their lead.
So, what’s the lesson?
The explosion of the “@” sign is an important example of the power of peer involvement with a product. So, I believe stressing a singular lesson or analogous application of this change would limit the beauty of user innovation. Instead, as the reader of this article, I encourage you to collaborate with me and this content to come up with your own lesson from the “@” sign. Step away from reading and write down a lesson you could learn from the “@” sign. Take the back-end of my research and build a new lesson for yourself. It may be silly, but user innovation is powerful if you give it a chance.
Maybe you think that “@” can teach us the power of a single action by a single person. Maybe you are impressed that successful development can evolve from millions of common consumers partnering with handfuls of talented programmers. Maybe a spiritual analogy can be made because the “@” gives (link) life.
My lesson from the “@” sign is: the most influential parts are often so common that they are grossly overlooked.
What was the common denominator in the Ashton Kutcher (@aplusk) and CNN (@cnnbrk) race to 1,000,000 followers? The “@” sign created a one-click link for potential followers to connect directly to the contest.
Follow Fridays are a tradition where users generate a list of those who they follow and encourage followers to also follow them. The common denominator that links the two is again, the “@” sign. Without it, the list of users is a dead end.
The “@” sign is the forgotten hero on Twitter and the connecting agent between all Tweeps (Twitter Peeps = Tweeps).
I had to remind myself after looking at that advertisement that not all have been influenced by the “@” sign like I have. But, I am very impressed by how quickly the “@” sign’s reference power has subconsciously changed my view of one secondary key on my keyboard. And he did it unnoticed. The most influential parts are often so common that they are grossly overlooked.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been in leadership. Ever since I can remember people, I always end up leading others. I don’t always understand this, but nonetheless, I do the best I can. I would say that the leadership qualities in my life have been born from a lot of mistakes. I don’t always do what’s right, but I have been trying to learn. I guess for me, leadership is taking a very different shape than I have previously believed.
When you think of someone who leads (whether in church or elsewhere), we most naturally think of someone who is wise, take charge, organizationally savvy, charismatic, and flawless. I have always wrestled with this because I have known leaders who were all of these things, but they also lacked a lot of other qualities I believe leaders should have. The qualities are relational like vulnerability, humility, servant’s heart, and love. However, sometimes those who lead from the “relational” aspects miss the boat when it comes to confrontation or pioneering.
I think that I flux between the “traditional” and “relational” components of leadership. The balance between the two would tend to be recognized as “the better way.” I recently read a story that shed some light on this idea of leadership. God put it on my heart to read 2 Chronicles. I assure you, I was not elated as I began to think of the Chronicles being long lists of names, kings, etc. However, I was struck deeply when reading the story of Solomon as he rose to kingship.
Now I am very aware that Solomon is not our shining example in Scripture, but the Lord did reveal something very powerful to me as I read verses 7-13 of chapter 1. Solomon got something very right at the beginning of his life. This passage is the story concerning how Solomon became the wisest man on the earth. I thought – oh yeah, I remember this, Solomon asks God for wisdom and gets everything else too. I planned on skipping over the passage, but for some reason I read it again, slower this time.
I read words like: “…give me now wisdom and knowledge to go out and come in before this people, for who can govern this people of Yours, which is so great.” And then I saw, “Because this was in your heart…” Solomon’s words do not sound like a man that already had it all together. Instead you hear this trepidation of leading people. He realized the intensity of the daily pressure (“to go out and come in”), he realized the value of the people (“this people of Yours”), and the influence he would have (“who can govern”).
I was amazed that this man really believed that he lacked what he needed in order to guide and lead these people. This was a son of David, Israel’s super king. He had “all the right friends in all the right places.” He was set up for success. His dad had left him the plans for things he was to establish. But he realized that even with all of that, he needed God to help him lead these people.
Solomon asked the Lord to help him lead from his lack. He didn’t have the understanding and knowledge to lead the Israelites. His heart was honest before the Lord and was selfless, really seeing that his leadership was not about him having the right qualities or specifics of kingship, but needing the Lord to empower him to lead.
I mean in some ways I am blown away that God tells Solomon whatever you want, I will give you and Solomon answers not for all the wisdom and knowledge in the world (intellectually), but he wants to have the wisdom and knowledge to lead others in the way they were to go. And God granted his request and gave him abundance in anything else he could’ve requested because “this was in his heart.” This language sounds like David’s epithet of being “a man after God’s heart.” I wonder what would be in the leader’s hearts that we know. Would it be for more charisma? Maybe more education? Or even more experience?
I know that I am challenged to examine what’s in my heart after reading Solomon’s story. I think leaders need to be chosen not on what they can do, but what they cannot do without the grants of heaven. I am taking the challenge of asking God to help me lead from my lack and am echoing the words of Paul: “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
So a friend gave me a book for my birthday. He’s the usually the one who gives me books that I enjoy and am challenged by their content. This book has been very thought provoking and I’m only a few chapters in so far. The chapter I read and contemplated this weekend was consistent in provoking of thoughts. The author, Francis Chan, discussed the recent trend in today’s church culture to be more preoccupied about appearances and reputation than seeing and looking for opportunity for the Holy Spirit to work in and around our lives. He poses the question of whether I (the reader) am open to the possibility that I could be wrong in my beliefs. Or, is my interpretation of scripture faulty? Which raised the question in my own mind of whether I really have my own interpretation of scripture to begin with. Have I just fed off of other peoples interpretation and picked and chosen the bits and pieces that I liked? I’d like to say that I’ve come to the conclusions about scripture I have because of my own study and realizations. The fact of the matter is that I know how much I study, and I must be honest in saying that I could never have come to many of the conclusions I have solely by my own study. It is through the teaching and preaching of others that I draw many of my beliefs, and I do my best to verify my personal experiences and those of others with the Word. That is the point of the church, is it not? A place we can go to receive insight into areas of God and truth that we are unable to study or comprehend on our own. I do think the Lord has blessed me with quite a wide range of teaching and preaching, from strict Southern Baptist to Spirit lead home churches, Honduran and Guatemalan church plants to inner-city ministries, conservative to Pentecostal services, all with their own personality and positive attributes.
I would hope that such a diversity of teachings has shown me the great expanse and diversity through which the Holy Spirit works. Yet I find myself still skeptical of certain ways in which the Holy Spirit is said to be revealed and work. So I ask myself “am I putting the Holy Spirit in a box when I doubt what looks to be worship, but though my eyes is seen as an empty attempt to draw attention, or a misinterpretation of scripture?” Drawing me back to wondering if in fact it is I who has the misinterpretation, a thought that I probably think more often than I should and which could be undone by a short venture in truth seeking. Here is where I ran into the next question that made me set my book down and think for a while, staring out the window at the rain as it flew sideways pounding the window and saturating the seemingly innocent abnormally dressed PCC (Pensacola Christian College) students as they sought refuge from the torrents of legalist rules in the one coffee shop within walking distance of campus. Which was an entertaining sight, but entirely off topic. So despite my distractions, I pulled my attention back and read the question again. I had completely forgotten what had driven me to look out the window in the first place. I read, “what fear[s] do you have about the Holy Spirit?” This question follows the section where Chan discusses whether or not we have quenched the Holy Spirit in our lives in the majority of American culture. My response was probably expected: I feared I was quenching the Holy Spirit in my own life. Am I looking for and allowing opportunities for the Holy Spirit to work in and around my life? I will be honest and say that I do not think that I do an adequate job of this. In fact, I thought to myself that in my ‘black and white’ mind frame, I shut Him out because I do not see or do not want to deal with the impressions, imposed by His actions in my life, observed by those around me. How dare he shatter peoples impressions of me that I’ve worked so hard to obtain.
Here I find a parallel with Christ, in that, no matter what box we put Him in, He shatters it time and time again. Which constantly reminds me - us - that He has no box. No box can contain all of who He is. In fact he created the box, how ‘bout them apples? Putting God in a box is like reinventing the wheel. Every attempt will fail, without a doubt.
This is what makes the Trinity so attractive to me. They cannot be predicted. They flow seamlessly between one another, sparking our curiosity. Keeping us constantly in amazement at what They do and (seemingly) don’t. How can we forget to be awe struck by this and fear God and what He is capable of doing, whether it be forgiving us for our continual sin or disciplining us for trying to put Him in the box that He invented? Why do we not want to open our lives to the power of the Holy Spirit, and allow Him to freely work in and through us so that we may impact this world and the people in and around our lives?
Wonderful January. I love the fresh start of a new year. The climax of the holidays has passed, and I get to sit back and reevaluate my life. That reevaluation usually motivates me to create a long list of resolutions. Many of us have health resolutions, relationship resolutions, and career resolutions. We know where we want to end up: in a smaller size, a healthy marriage, or a management position. We just don’t know how to get there. We may know the necessary steps that will eventually help us wiggle into those smaller pair of jeans, but we hit a brick wall in the execution. In order to reach our desired destination, we have to change our habits. Sounds simple enough, but then why does it seem that I am making the same resolution that I made last year and the year before? For me, it’s because I lack the perseverance necessary to transform my habits and reach my goals.
I really prayed this year about the goals God wanted for me to set, and one word rang out loud and clear: simplify. Funny. I think God laid that on my heart last year. Yet instead of simplifying, I added three or four significant time commitments to my schedule in an attempt to feel like I was doing something worthwhile with my life. This time, though, I’m listening. Change is hard, and it requires discipline and self-control (realizing how spastic I get when I’m hungry is showing me that self-control is not something I possess much of). It requires me to change my deeply engrained habits, but I am convinced that the challenge and the work are worth it. Simplifying my life will require daily obedience, but it will allow me the focus to reach my potential and see what God initially created me to become. And I want to do the work to get there.
I already find myself struggling to follow through on my goals (it’s only January 20), but I’m thankful that the Holy Spirit is with me daily to give me the strength and power I need.
