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Sabbatical... Home Stretch!

I remember after our son Jack was born. After all the sleepless nights, crying and frustrations with learning how to be parents for the first time, it was about two years in when I started to feel "human" again- back to my old self, someone I not only recognized but liked. (Of course, right around that time our second child Janie came along...)

This has been kind of like that. 

For the last 2 1/2 months I've been on sabbatical. Often, in this pastoral world, after seven years it's customary to get a 2-3 month break, and the elders of Evergreen were gracious enough to offer (uh, insist on) that break to me. 

The first month I think I spent somewhat numbed out- to be honest, for most of 2010 I was completely burned out. I began to recover a bit in the early parts of 2011, but there were enough challenging things happening that "recover" never really got out of 1st or 2nd gear. 

So moving into sabbatical I was tired and feeling at a complete loss as to what to do with myself. I didn't have enough energy to do anything creative, so mostly I just...was. Which was great. Disney with the family, a church planters bootcamp and week at the Richmond Hill Abbey, and then just being home. 

But these last few weeks of sleeping in, time with family just being together, road trips with Jack, some sunny days and now a week at a pastor's retreat house in WA have left me feeling "human" again- back to my old self, someone I not only recognize but like. At ease and at peace.

It's a good place to be. 

Some things that have become clear to me during this time and in no particular order-

• "Let your life speak"- This phrase comes from Parker Palmer's book of the same name. I've been reading it this last week, and while a good chunk of it describes his journey through depression, much of it is devoted to themes of vocation and discernment. It's been clarifying and catalytic for me to read during this time, and to begin to learn to listen to what my life (and God thru my life) has been saying to me during this last few years. When we're young, we don't know who we are or frankly, how we've been put together (by God thru both biology, gifting and experience) and so have no idea what we're being formed for and called to. In the earlier parts of life I think I had the time and energy, the luxury to move in many directions, experiment, and bang my head against certain things even if some of them felt forced. At this stage, I'm feeling more and more like it's important to begin to narrow, to specialize and to focus on what I'm formed for and on what is forming of me in good ways so as to make Act 2, the second half, a focused and productive time in my life. And on that note...
• "Move away from your pathology"- this phrase is something my spiritual director Morris said to me recently and it's very much stuck in my brain. As the Gambler taught us, you got to know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em, and that means there are things that are very much worth the struggle and fighting thru to master. There are other things that eventually you just have to say "I'm trying to force something here" or "I think this will always be a trigger/a place of weakness/a shortcoming for me" and just move away from them. I know for me, certain areas of ministry and life in general are like this. While I'd still like to learn some new things and master some other things that have continued to get the best of me, I think the next season in life will be a narrowing of focus, a leaning into strengths and a leaving behind of what hasn't been working. Still thinking and praying thru what all that will mean.
• Connection to my family that has hit a new level needs to be maintained. For me, church planting and parenting came simultaneously- Jack was born the month before we officially "launched" evergreen, so the two have always co-existed. This has been my first crack at being a parent while not being a pastor, and I've loved it. Yeah, I've gone a little stir-crazy and needed to get out of the house and away from it all at times, but all in all, I feel as though during this time I've been able to get a taste of (and a taste for) something that I plan to move heaven and earth to keep. Again, not sure what that will mean in terms of schedule, but I know that I've hit a place inwardly with my wife and kids I'm not going to want to let go of. 

All in all, I feel an energy and strength I haven't felt in years. And more, a desire to jump back into the pieces of ministry that are life-giving for me and where I see the most bang for buck in terms of what it brings to others and to begin to explore and arrange for other possibilities in the areas that aren't life-giving and where my efforts don't yield the kind of fruit I'd like to see.

Coming into the home stretch of this sabbatical (if I may wax psychologic for a minute) I feel a lot of ego integrity and self-differentiation- which is just a fancy way of saying, I feel much less tied to what people think of me and much happier about where I am, who I am and able to make choices and decisions based on the latter and not the former. Some of that comes with feeling more organically connected to God (relationship without the added ingredients of ministry study, preaching, etc), some comes from just finally feeling rested and human again, able to begin lift my eyes off of the urgent to-do's right in front of me and look at the horizon and dream a little...

I'm also thinking about growing a mustache. A big Three Dog Night kind of deal.

Anyone have any thoughts? :)

Some thoughts on Peace and the God Who gives it...

Saturday I was driving somewhere, doing something- I don't really remember what and it's not particularly important. But, alone with my thoughts and a bit more than 2/3 of the way thru my sabbatical, I realized- I'm not at peace.

Rested, yes. Relaxed, yes. Happy- as much as anyone could reasonably expect. And yet, that internal churn, that turmoil of never quite feeling at ease. At ease with myself or others, with the state of my world, with the state of my life.

Then I began wondering why this would be and what it should tell me- what did I need to do, change, become? Was it even possible this side of things to find "peace?"

I wasn't long down this train of thought before I knew that the kind of peace I was desiring, the emotional rest and contentedness I needed, probably wasn't going to be found in rearranging the furniture- not even the furniture if my inward life and certainly not the furniture of my outward life.
It came to me that the type of thing I wanted was first and foremost a gift, one given by God and received with thankfulness, not something found, earned or manufactured.

So I did the only thing I knew to do- I asked God for peace. Sitting in traffic, I prayed, and told God what I felt I needed and asked Him to provide it.
And graciously, He answered.

I have found myself over the last couple of days finally enjoying what has felt lacking for so long- not a sense that all was right in the world, because we all know that's not so, not even the range-limited world of "my life", but that I am okay with the world that is and my place in it- my place in enjoying it, contributing to it, changing it, being changed by it...

How long I will feel this way, I don't know. And I really have no point in writing this other than maybe simply to testify that God is good, and the kind of Father who delights in our delight and when asked by His child for something good, something delicious, sometimes answers, "Yes, of course- I'm glad you asked! I would love to give you that."

Slouching Towards Sabbatical...

I'm winding down, taking care of last-minute details, trying to make sure all is ready... so I can drop out of vocational ministry for 3 months. 

 

 

Last Sunday I preached my final sermon for the next little while. And, coming as it did after a long night of sweating out a fever of almost 103, it felt a bit more like limping over the finish line than anything else. But regardless, what was wonderful was being prayed for, blessed and "sent" in a sense, by the community.

This week, after 7 years with few breaks (I don't think there's been a year where I actually used all of my vacation) I'm setting it down, stepping away and taking a deep breath. 

To tell you the truth, it couldn't come at a better time. Even though I have felt some sense of recovery these last few months, I still feel pretty crispy around the edges, pretty low on reserves... And already, I can feel certain brain cells waking up again- just taking the weight of ministry off (not the responsibility to care, but the responsibility to do something about it) is opening up bandwidth. I feel like I'm having the emotional and mental equivalent of nasal passages opening after taking a hit of nose spray. Words, ideas... feelings. Ahh, there they are. It's good. 

Some have lovingly questioned my desire not to disappear completely but to remain somewhat connected to the community through being around on Sundays. I'll admit- there's some risk there, but here's my thinking. 

When we first started Evergreen, one of my desires was to help build and pastor in a community where I felt like I could take a vacation WITH the people I was in community with, not FROM them. I had been in plenty of situations where the second was true... but never really the first. 

And for the first 3, 3 1/2 years or so, I think that's exactly what I had. 

But over the last few years, something has changed- the dynamic flipped, and to be honest, I want to push back against that feeling. Yes, there are times to get away, to be alone or be with family or friends who aren't part of our community. But if I can't just be a part of things, can't be friends, can't worship with, can't recreate with, can't do life with these folks- if this is just a position or a job for me, from which I need to take regular and extended breaks, well... that may be okay for others, but it's never what I envisioned and it's not what I want now. 

So I'm going to try it and see. Can I just show up and worship with my family at Evergreen? Can I be a part of our community without having to run things, adjust things (and as Dustin warned me this week) have the last word on Sunday? Can I just be an Evergreener? 

I want to be, I know that. We'll visit some other places, I'm sure- just to see what God is up to here in PDX. But, in the past when we've done that, I've always left feeling very grateful for our little community with the knowledge that there's no other place I'd like to be, worship, fellowship, live and love. 

This season will be my chance to do that in a new way- and maybe my only chance for a long, long time. 

I'm looking forward to it. 

After 7 years, a Sabbatical

When a friend told me last time at this year that traditionally, year 7 is the hardest year for church plants/church planters, I thought "hmmmm" and filed that away for future reference. We had just celebrated our 6 year mark as a church and I was already beginning to see signs of what he was talking about- both within our community and within my own soul. 

At 7, nothing is new anymore- and the energy that sustained you in your "newness" is scarce. People you thought might be with you forever, or at least for awhile longer begin to fade away in search of other things. Staff/leadership relationships begin to creak a bit with age. 

And if you are a church planter, after 7 years, you are tired. 

So many nights laying awake wondering where so-and-so went, if the marriage of your close friends is going to make it, if the faith someone you baptized who seemed so excited but now seems so not is going to make it... Week after week of set-up, admin, sermon prep, trying to coach, encourage or even cajole people into creating the kinds of ministries they are complaining to you about not having. Times when the tank is full and times when it is empty- but empty or full, you still have to pull something out of it for others. 

I knew going in this great adventure of church planting would be hard- what I couldn't see was how hard it would on my own heart and soul. How even the good and best parts of ministry still take so much out of you.  And especially how the hard parts take a toll- others second guessing your leadership decisions, complaining about things they could easily pitch in to change or create. Baptisms are wonderful, but just as often people say "I think I'm done with faith." Ministry is messy, and for most average, non-mega-church pastors, it's largely thankless.

Which is why I'm SO grateful for our elders and our community. 

Last summer, we began talking about the possiblity of me taking a sabbatical after our 7 year mark. It's a pretty standard practice in ministry to allow a pastor some extended time off after 7 years, and truthfully, I think that over the last year our elders have seen me fraying at the edges and really running out of steam. 

So, in mid-December it moved from discussion to instruction. They told me I needed to take some time away.

That was just what I needed to hear. 

Since then, I've been able to sleep better, rest more... Just knowing that a break was coming has enabled me not only to navigate some hard leadership waters these last few months, but even begin to crawl back a bit from the edges of exhaustion. At this point, I'm not only ready for a break, but feel as though I may actually have the energy to enjoy it. Which again, I'm grateful for...

So, we've announced to our community that from May through July I'm going to be taking a break from the work of ministry. Our family will still be around- I'm looking forward to actually just attending our church and sitting with my wife and kids in our gathering. It's been, uh... never, since we've been able to do that- I've been working at churches our entire marriage. While I hope to take a break from the work part, I really want to remain present in some ways- that is, take a break from work, not from community. I also want to visit some other communities and see what else God is doing here in PDX.

My spiritual director is going to help me with those parts with some regular check-ins to make sure I'm not sneaking in any work- physically or mentally. As he says, "Sabbatical" comes from "Sabbath."

And so, to that end, some things I hope to do on my Sabbatical:

1. Sleep 

2. Break this writer's block

3. Enjoy and be enjoyable to my family

4. Eat, Pray, Love

5. We're going to Disneyland!

6. Week at Richmond Hill Abbey in Richmond VA

7. Road trip with Jack, my 7 year old son

8. Sleep some more. 

 

And who knows... maybe some blogging too :)

 

7 years ago today...

Last year on this day, March 11th, right around this time, I was standing on the roof of a clinic in a village in rural Haiti, using a borrowed phone to try and call home.

This morning, one year later, using terrible hotel wifi, I finally managed to place a Skype call from Spain back home to Portland.

It wasn't long after we were married that Amy was prophetically saying to me, "I know someday you are going to be traveling- I can tell that's what God is going to do." At the time, it sounded exciting...

This week, as my plane left the Portland airport on its way to Madrid, Spain, I began to wonder how those men and women who basically travel for a living do it. Each time I leave home lately- it feels as though it gets harder and harder. More and more of my heart is tied up in every little Janie smile, every new Josie word, every Jack hug and every Amy kiss.

But, as she predicted, God has been taking me places. A few weeks ago it was an incredible time at the Ecclesia Network National Gathering with some of our elders from Evergreen. This week, it's Christian Associate's Leadership Summit here in Europe, where I'm taking the time to connect with church planters and learn from some new streams and new relationships. In a few more weeks, to Richmond, VA to help teach a church planter's bootcamp with/for Ecclesia.

I love new places, I love to see new things- it stimulates my brain in ways that are so very needed. But sometimes, like today, I feel acutely that pang of missing out.

Seven years ago today my son Jack was born. I love him more than he can know- and am extremely proud of the boy he is becoming. His heart is becoming wonderfully soft and he's proving quicker than most I know to turn a corner after getting angry, to come and say he's sorry- often cooling down way before even his daddy! He's got a generous spirit, a quick mind, and a fun-loving nature that doesn't stop.
Jack- I wouldn't want any other boy but you! I love you, guy- Happy Birthday!

Daddy will be home soon.

"She, out of her poverty, gave..."

"Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, 'Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.'"

This morning, during a group lectio divina meditation on this Scripture, the line the Holy Spirit highlighted for me was this: "She, out of her poverty..."

As we sat with this passage, the question that came up for me was "Where is MY poverty?... And what would it look like to give out of it?"

I suspect that too often, in our context, we are overly-focused on giftedness. We want people to know their gifts (and ours) and, in a sense, to operate out of their "riches." When it becomes clear that someone is good at something, or has resources in a particular area, we want them to begin serving, giving, worshiping God with that. And so the musician who plays well is encouraged to play for God. When it becomes clear someone can speak and communicate well, we encourage her to use that gift for God and for us. The good graphic designer is pressed into using that gift for the community, the natural leader to lead, the one with the gift of hospitality to be hospitable. And there's nothing wrong with that. God has given those gifts to us for a reason.

But giving out of our gifts, out of the riches of what we do well and willingly is easy. Maybe too easy, in many ways.

In sitting with the question of where my poverty lays, I realized- we all have areas within ourselves of relative riches and relative poverty. And God wants it all. He created us, bought us at great cost to Himself, and desires that we give to Him our whole selves- that our worship of, devotion to, service of Him be wholistic.

But I wonder if, like us, God tends to smile at certain gifts more than others- not that He doesn't take delight in all service, all worship honestly given, but...
In the same way we value the hand-made gift, the hand-written note, the thing that shows effort and thought, I wonder if God sees gifts given out of our riches a little differently than gifts given out of our poverty? The easy gift of operating out of our strength vs the harder gift of having to dig deep into our less-comfortable and less competent places.

For me I know I am very comfortable in certain areas of ministry and less so in others.

And as I sat today, meditating on this, I became convinced that God wants me to worship Him not simply out of my surplus- to give to Him what costs me little because I have so much of it, or am good at it. He does want those things- but perhaps what is more worshipful of Him, more forming for me, and ultimately maybe even better for others is when I take stock of the areas where I am poor and decide to give God everything I have there- to step out, and as an act of worship, do what is less comfortable, less likely to end with the positive ego-enhancing feedback we all so love.

God, this Lenten season, may I learn to value my poverty more than my giftedness- my weakness more than my strength. Because it is in my weakness that Your strength and grace are shown and bring me to maturity.

It was 7 years ago today...

7 years ago today I woke up in a state of anxiety, sure I had to get a ton of resumés out ASAP. By the end of that day, I went to bed in a state of excitement, sure we were supposed to plant a church. 

I knew my time at the Big Church was coming to an end, but I had no idea of what came next. The relevant data facts were- 1. We had just bought a house 2. We had just gotten pregnant 3. I was pretty sure I wouldn't "fit" in most mainstream churches anymore. 

So when I was told we'd be making a "transition" in terms of my job at the Big Church, I knew something had to happen- I just didn't know what. I had a friend who had a job for me as a children's pastor- No... definitely not me (especially since at the time our child was -7 months old). A lot of churches were "interested"... but none were pulling the trigger, and even if they did, I was highly ambivalent about their style/paradigm of doing church.

God was definitely telling me that He wanted me back in pastoral ministry, but He sure wasn't making it easy. 

So that day, throughout various conversations with friends named Bj, Jim, Stephen, Johnny, Bernard, and Tim, it became clear: Time to put feet to faith and actually DO all the "new" church stuff I'd been talking about for a couple of years. 

They asked: So where are you going to plant this thing? I said, "Well, we live in the Murray Scholls area- maybe there's a school or something there..." 

Tim just shook his head and said, "No. No. No... The Lucky Lab in Multnomah Village." 

I thought about it for 10 seconds or so and said, "Yes. that's it."

And you know the rest of the story. 

Seven years.

Seven years of hoping God will move and seeing Him do just that, of trusting the process and rarely being disappointed, of learning hard lessons about the difference between what I/we think we have figured out and what we actually do. 

This last year has probably been the toughest- I feel like I've made more leadership/strategy mistakes in the last 10 months than in the 6 years previous. But in all of that I am simply reminded of both how much I need Jesus in this church endeavor and how much He shows up and perfects His grace in my weakness. 

Thank you God and thank you Evergreen for seven years of amazing adventure. I'm grateful today for people who love God more than church and so love the church God is building/using more than most other things. I'm thankful for people who say "Whether the car turns right or left, we're staying in it." I'm thankful for people who care enough to disagree without disengaging, for people who love others unselfishly and sacrificially, and for people who work hard to make a welcoming community. I'm especially thankful for those who have found and re-found and are finding and re-finding Jesus in and through our community. What a gift. 

And I'm thankful that it has never gotten easy. 

Because that would be boring, and if there's one thing this deal is not, it's rarely boring.

Why don't friends with kids have any time for me?

Yep- that's about the size of it...

(HT: Michelle Foster) 

The Vital Question I haven't been asking...

Woke up at 2:30 this morning (of course) realizing that it's been awhile since I asked anyone that most vital of questions...

"So, what's your story?"

We have "history" as a core value in our community- partly to help us remember that we're not new- that though we started our church 6 years ago, we're really a part (and certainly not the latest/greatest part) of something that's been going on for 2,000 years. 

But we also want that value to remind us of something else- and that's people's individual history, their story, and its importance. 

Too often I find myself trying to connect with new acquaintances by asking a few ice-breaker questions, and then falling back on old reliable: Telling them about me. Or my iPhone. Usually my iPhone... But I digress. 

On Sundays. as I try to connect with people who are visiting our community, the same dynamic often happens- though instead of telling them about myself, I'm trying to tell them about Evergreen, ask if they have any questions... and totally missing the most important way I could connect with them. 

I knew a guy once that really struggle to build relationships and friendships. He was a nice enough guy, but no one seemed very interested in talking with him. And there was a simple reason- he was a one-trick pony, conversationally. Anything you said would trigger a story he had about something that at one time had happened to him. They were often funny enough stories- but in lieu of anything else, any other personal interest in the other person, they were a conversation (and so a relationship) killer.

So last night, I realized... I've been becoming a version of that. Eager to tell people about me and mine, less eager to ask them about them and theirs (so to speak...)

I need to remember- there are a number of things that people want to know about me or about my community. But the thing they want to know first, and above everything else is: Do you care about who I am? 

Fakin' it till I make it...

The thought of days like today exhaust me. But in actual practice, they often energize me.

I'm what many pastors are- the introvert who loves to be the center of attention. That's why we love to be alone at the front or the center of the room. Many of us would rather engage with 100 people than with one.

But for me, I knew that was an instinct I couldn't nurture. I realized back in the late 90's that my introversion was killing my ministry- my inability to come out of myself and connect with others meant I could be all alone in a room full of people, people I was supposed to be taking care of on one level or another. And though for most, that's a serious issue to be worked through, for me, it was infinitely more pressing- my "job" was people and I realized, unless I got over that tendency, I would have a very short ministry career.

I developed a mental picture of what the guy I wanted to be was like- gregarious, generous with attention, mindful of who was being left out... And did my best to be that guy in limited bursts. At first, I needed to picture (literally) putting on and taking off the "pastor hat" (red mesh truckers cap, in case you are wondering). When I was wearing that hat, I was gregarious, outgoing- the pastoral extrovert I needed to be.
And when the event or time with people was over, I'd take that hat off and surrender to exhaustion.

As those in the recovery community know, "fake it 'till you make it" often works. When you act how you want to be, slowly, the insides fall in line with the outsides. We act our way into new modes of being/belief, not the other way around. Side note: this is why I groan whenever I hear people say, "I don't want to do something just because I'm supposed to- I'll begin doing it (exercising, regularly being a part of a church community, loving someone they are supposed to love, etc) when I feel again like I want to. At that point, the battle is already over.

So as I say- slowly, I've become the guy I had hoped to be. Not there yet (in many ways), and the thought of days like today, with five meetings and lots of conversations still have the ability to make me tired just looking at the calendar. But in actual practice I've learned- leaning in with people, listening to their stories, dreaming together, untangling knotty problems, coaching, pastoring... It's what I was made to do. And that, I find, though tiring, is energizing in a way that few other things are.

Brothers And Sisters, We Kinda Sorta Are Professionals

If there’s any issue at all that pastors must wrestle with, beyond how the Gospel applies to their own lives and ministry, it’s the issue of rest and Sabbath.

Wait- Scratch that. Those are actually the same issue. 

More about that in a second, but first the question: Why is Sabbath so hard for us? 

There was a time a few years back when, while still working at a church, I was in a support staff role doing media design. It also happened to be the first year of my marriage, and as far as first-year-of-marriage jobs go, I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I came in the morning, did my work, went home and didn’t think about it again until the next day. The computers I worked on were there at the church office, I couldn’t take work home with me, and I was very, very okay with that. When I was off, I was off. 

Fast forward a couple of years and we’ve planted a church. Suddenly, that’s all I can think about. Early morning, late night- I’m working on the website, writing posts on our forum, answering emails. Always on. 

What was the difference? I was working at a church during both periods, both were “ministry”... 

Yes, both were ministry. But the difference is one was a job, and the other? 

My identity.

For many of us, ministry is viewed as a calling, and we purposefully push back against the idea of ministry as a job or a profession. Usually that thinking is helpful. But maybe the unintended side-effect has been that the natural boundaries that often come with a job simply aren’t present or present enough in our ministries, often to our own detriment and worse, the detriment of our families.

Like I said, for the last few years of church planting and pastoring, I’ve been “always on,” answering the phone when it rang, working on sermons on my weekends, packing my schedule with ministry meetings and events, and just generally being a pastor all the time. Through it all, I’ve watched with a bit of envy as friends I have go to work and come home; as they turn it off and enjoy their nights and weekends without always thinking about work. 

And as I’ve gotten more tired, less effective and increasingly frustrated with my decreasing ability to be present when and where I really need to be, I’ve realized that the issue isn’t so much time-management or getting more productive (though those help) but rather a shift in thinking and belief. 

I needed two things. 

First, as always, I need more fully to embrace the Gospel at a personal and heart level. My failure at turning off ministry and truly resting as part of my weekly rhythms reveals within me a basic disbelief of the Gospel truth that Jesus is enough and that my identity can and should be rooted in His finished work for me, not the results I get, the church I pastor and how well (or not) it’s doing, or whether I think people are approving or disapproving of me based on the amount of access I give them to myself and my time.  

The only way we pastors will ever find sustainability and longevity in ministry is if we do what we tell other people to do ALL THE TIME: Rest our souls in the finished work of Christ. Stop getting our identity from our job/ministry. Take some time to unplug, unwind and more importantly, connect with God, our families and our own souls again.

Secondly, along with leaning more and more deeply on Jesus, and understanding that my value and worth are derived from what He did, not what I do, I find the most helpful thing I can do is to regain a sense of where the job pieces of ministry start and stop. My calling is to be a full-time follower of Jesus and to serve Him with the gifts He’s given me without reservation. Right now, my profession is serving as a pastor to my community. And whereas I once saw those two things as being virtually identical and overlapping, I can now see that they aren’t. 

There are things like kindness and mercy, patience and justice, how I relate to God and relate to others, basically Christlikeness, that I need to pursue hard 24-7. But there are other pieces of what I do that are still ministry, but need to fall into the category of 9-5. And I don’t mean just the admin stuff. Writing my sermon on my day off? Answering the phone during dinner? Doing the emergency counseling session? Sure- there will be times when I need to bend a little. But I’m beginning to see that for the sake of my family, I need to recategorize much of my ministry activity. I need, like those friends of mine with their 9-5 jobs, to be able to say with equal conviction, “Now I’m at work and it’s time to get after it” AND “Now I’m off- I’m going to let that sit until Monday morning when I can give it my full attention. Right now, I’m not working, and my family needs me.”

Essential to truly resting from our work is being able, in a sense, to put that work on the shelf for a day or two, step away from it, and let go. 

Brothers and sisters, (with apologies and all due respect to John Piper) we kinda sorta are professionals. And truly finding rest and Sabbath will depend both on how you look at Jesus AND how you look at your job. Know when you are at work and on the clock and give the communities you serve the full benefit or your attention and efforts. Know when you are not at work, and when you are off, be off. And know and remember most of all where true rest is found. 

Tanned, rested and ready...

I feel a little silly writing this as this morning in particular I'm tired out- but that has more to do with not sleeping well last night (oh, Sunday night, my old nemesis) than a general disposition.
In general, I'm doing fantastically, largely as a result of feeling like the burnout I was in imminent danger of experiencing this spring has been staved off. I've rested more, prayed more, taken more successive vacation days in the last couple of months than at any time in the previous 6 years... Just generally listened to the warning signs in my heart and soul and put the brakes on.
The result? I feel a little less on top of things/organized than I'd like to be, but ready, over the next couple of months, to begin to put together some things I've been hoping and dreaming about for our community. Some of those things include a rhythm of spiritual life that we'd like to invite people who are ready for such a thing into, a fleshed-out and renewed emphasis on home communities for those who need it, a complete reworking of the materials that tell curious people about our community... Along with some other things I'll hopefully be able to talk about later.

All in all, I'm incredibly grateful to God for helping me push past a really difficult time, giving me the endurance I needed and still need, and especially for giving me such a great community to serve as Evergreen.

How Facebook is Ruining Me

Some thoughts running through my head today... 

There was a time when I think I was much more balanced, much less likely to anger others with my opinions, much more thoughtful of how my words would land with certain people. 

And then Facebook happened. 

I should say at the outset, the blame for thoughtless words lies squarely on my shoulders. The one who says them is responsible for the damage they do. But...

Facebook and Twitter have brought a real change for me, and not a positive one. 

In the beginning, there was the blog. And though things would get heated at times, and though I certainly have blogged things I wish I hadn't, the medium of the blog essay demanded a certain amount of circumspection and self-editing. 

Status updates, with their 140 character constraints, may demand pithiness, but self-editing? For length, maybe. But there's something about the medium of Twitter/Facebook updates that encourages a certain stream-of-consciousness, write-whatever-comes-into-your-head kind of thing. 

And while authenticity is a great value to pursue, for me, the unintended side effect of unedited authenticity has been a less pastoral presence, more arguing over issues (whether they be important or not, arguing on Facebook solves nothing), and more interpersonal strife. And frankly, it's just not worth it.

I think when it comes to many issues, the pastor is best left a blank slate. Unless your goal is to have a community/church full of people who think just like you, there isn't a whole lot of upside to arguing one side or the other of most (not all) of the current things people get spun out over. 

Yes, I recognize it matters whether McCain or Obama gets elected, whether Health Care Reform passes or we start down the slippery slope to socialism (whoops- there I go), but as a pastor, I'm coming to realize that others will debate those issues, and better. I have a certain amount of capital/good will in people's lives, and I'm coming to see that I can choose to spend it on arguing about politics and current events, or encouraging them to believe the Gospel and trust Jesus. 

I know that there are people who feel called to do both. God bless both Jim Wallis and James Dobson. That's their thing. Mine is to pastor a community full of Republicans AND Democrats, independents and Libertarians (and even a few Socialists and Greens!). Our political and ideological diversity is one of our strengths, and it's a part of the crucifixion of ministry to understand that my job is to love them all, challenge them all, and do as little needless antagonizing as possible. I still have opinions- but my freedom to get uppity about them is something I need to learn to lay down.

To the extent that I've failed at that over the last few months (and I HAVE failed at that over the last few months), I'm sorry. 

This week...

I'm gearing up to head to Haiti on Thursday. Can't say my mind is entirely there yet, but it will be soon enough.

 This has been an insanely stressful week- lots of little things adding up, lots of pressure, not a lot of balance or self-care. We always talk about pastors burning out or flaming out because those are the ones that get the most attention. Me? Lately I've just been running out. 

I get to that point where it's been too long since I've been inspired by new ideas, had a really good night's sleep, had time with God that moved beyond discipline and into life-giving. At that point it's not any one thing, just everything in general- and I feel like a car trying to move uphill on momentum alone- no gas, just slower and slower. Preaching begins to feel monotonous and like I'm just saying the same things over and over, there's a lack of creative ideas in anything I do, I know I need... something, but am too unfocused to name it or do it. 

And that's where God's grace has been really apparent to me lately. 

I've known for awhile that certain side-projects weren't really sustainable for me. I loved the extra income, but they were draining in ways I couldn't afford to be drained. Well, that's ended this week. Not sure how I'll replace the income, but for now, I feel free. 

I stumbled through yesterday thinking- "This is as tired and stressed as I can ever remember having felt." And yet, I woke up this morning feeling light- not necessarily full of energy- not yet, but not weighed down either. 

It's amazing how the math works- doing too much and so feeling too stressed? Do less. And if you won't choose that, maybe God will just begin to strip away. 

Grace. 

I expect to be blogging a lot more again. I feel the energy and the need for it. Sorry for the long, long hiatus of not much happening here. Thanks for hanging in there (if you are still out there, reading this)...

Now to get to work for the week, nail stuff down church and family-wise before heading off to Haiti this Thursday. 

No Time...

"Got no time
Got no mind
For the line
In my life
No time to think
Time for sleep now
Time to sink way into the blue, dear"

-Alexi Murdoch, Blue Mind

I'm not sure how it happened- how I got so busy, so weighted down with so many things. I think maybe it was the inevitable and simultaneous growth of all the areas of my life- family, pastoring, side business... but one thing after another has been crowded out. Exercise, reading, writing... 

The tragedy is, the things that have all been crowded out filled two functions. First, they were things I needed, things that gave me pleasure and health and personal growth. But more, these things I wanted to do were the things that fueled and made possible the things I have to do. They gave me energy, vitality and creativity for the tasks at hand. 

By God's grace, I haven't been running on an empty tank, but I think I can see it from where I'm at. What all this has been working in me is more of a desperate dependence on Jesus to get me through, as opposed to a woe-is-me, I'm-sooo-busy mentality. Few days find me making it through without at some point uttering something like "God, please help me here. I don't think I can do this." I feel as though somehow, miraculously, my capacity has increased. 

And yet, while I've been gettin' jive done,  I'm tired and feeling uninspired. I need to read more. I need to write more. I need exercise both physical and mental. I need to join a gym again, and maybe I need to pick a blog fight just for old time's sake? :)

"So watch your time...

Time descends
Let it spill quietly
From your hands
Oh, and the time is at hand
When all things under the sky
Go free of time
Time is passing you by
Got no time
And I am drifting

Yes, I am drifting "

5 Things I've loved about the Emerging Church movement...

With everyone writing obituaries and whatnot for the emerging church movement, and with myself coming across more and more as a critic, I feel a personal push towards taking a time-out to recollect some positives and praise for a movement, that while mixed, and in many ways losing momentum and splintering, has been significant for me in my journey. 

1. My initial intro to the emerging church movement came in a seminar with (yes, believe it or not) Doug Pagitt and Mark Driscoll together. On a personal level, at a low point in my life and faith, feeling burnt out and burned, they talked about a postmodern (hey! Remember that word??) approach to faith that was more about Jesus than institution, and more about life in the way of Jesus that made a difference in the world and less about a focus on getting people over the goal-line of decision and their rears into heaven. All of that resonated with me deeply. Brian McLaren's books The Church on the Other Side and More Ready Than You Realize, Len Sweet's Postmodern Pilgrims, an Origins conference with Erwin McManus (and many of his books)... all of these kept my vision and heart for faith and church together even while I worked out on a personal level some things I needed to get sorted that threatened to shipwreck me. And even though now I find myself more often than not pushing back against BOTH Driscoll and Pagitt from my tiny speck of middle ground, I'm eternally grateful that at just the right time, God allowed our paths to cross. 

2. On a theological level, whether they were ever really connected with the emerging church or not, people like Todd Hunter and Dallas Willard, Rob Bell and Ruth Haley Barton all became introduced to me through the EC. And they have all had profound impacts on my thinking about God and faith. Todd Hunter gave me an expanded view of the Gospel and the Kingdom that continues to shape me today- and he did it at various Emerging Churchy type things like the Emergent Convention (remember those??) and Off the Map. Rob Bell, while cool and all, and inability to boil down the Gospel to 140 characters aside (I kid, I kid), proved to be a game-changer for me, mainly by introducing me to William Webb and the redemptive hermeneutic, something that has been massively forming for me. His simple explanation of Webb's take on the redemptive arc in Scripture set in motion for me a internal movement that led me to a completely different view of women in leadership and has shaped Evergreen for the better.

3. On a pastoral/church level, the emerging church conversation broadened my ecclesiastical horizons and helped me to see God at work in all kinds of expressions of Church. But even more so, it gave me the freedom to think outside the boundary lines I had previously limited myself to in terms of what Church could and should be. It introduced me to ideas of a more organic approach, helped shape my thinking on flattened leadership structures and, in a sense, gave me "permission" to try something as crazy as church in a pub.

4. On a missional level, it's largely been through the emerging church that I've been turned on to voices in the missional stream of thinking, like Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch, voices which continue to shape my way of thinking and orientation in the world and which continue to challenge, stretch and even confound and frustrate me- all good things and sorely needed. 

5. Finally, I credit the emerging church movement/impulse with a renewed emphasis in my own heart, in my city, and in the American church in general towards justice and the poor. If you think the emerging church has just been all talk, and no practical good in the world, you haven't had your eyes open for the last ten years. The amount of influence the emerging church has wielded in terms of getting the sleeping giant of the American church off its rear and into the game in terms of helping the poor both locally and globally has been WAY out of proportion to its size and influence in other areas (though it has had influence in other areas). While the biggest churches in America ten years ago were hosting conferences on how to grow your church even bigger, today they host conferences about, push people towards and resource (for example) the fight against AIDS in Africa, clean water around the world and more. Ten years ago much of evangelicalism in the West had its head in the sand in regards to global poverty and today the landscape looks very different. And while a concern for justice and the poor didn't originate with the emerging church, I think a renewed consciousness about and concern for the poor among  can largely be credited to the "prophetic" emerging voices of people like Shane Claiborne and feeling the pressure of all these small emerging communities (some of which have grown into big, city-impacting churches like Imago Dei) that were getting it done in ways that their more-established and better-resourced churches weren't. 

All in all, I'm grateful for the impact of the Emerging Church on my life- while I feel like we've grown apart in some ways (I just need to see other movements... really, it's not you, it's me. Okay, it is kind of you), and while I feel like there's some significant tares in amongst all the wheat there, for today, I'm choosing to see and be thankful for the good. 

Who we are becoming... accidentally

I heard someone say today "Pastors often lose sight of who they are."

I think to some extent that may be true- especially for those of us who tend towards the co-dependant. Being driven more by who we feel others want us to be. 

But I think it might be more precise to say we often become people we didn't intend to be. And we do so by living reactively- taking each day as it comes, dealing with the facts (and fires) on the ground, avoiding the 50,000 foot view altogether. 

And the 50,000 ft view is a picture of who we want to be down the road. 

This week I was reading Letters To A Skeptic by Greg Boyd. In it, he talks about a woman he knows who had been a bright, vibrant and happy person early in her life. All that changed when her sister ran off with her fiance. Or maybe I should say, all that began to change with how she reacted to that event, and how she chose to continue to react- nurturing bitterness and unforgiveness- until at the end of her life she was regarded as a difficult, bitter and angry old woman. 

As I thought about that story and overlaid my own life on top of it, I realized a piece of something I had let creep in to my emotions and come out in certain actions just wasn't congruent with the person of peace I hoped to be in old age. That realization alone was enough to get me off my chair and into making a concrete change.

In other words, I realize it's not just that we make choices- it's that our choices are very literally making us. And unless those choices are guided by a picture, a blueprint of who we want to be, we'll end up becoming someone purely by accident- shaped more by our circumstances and reactions to those circumstances than by any values or vision we might have. 

So here's the question: Who do you want to be? And what are you doing to become that? What are you doing that is at odds with that, that is taking you in another direction. 

And more importantly, what are you going to do about it? 

From Ennui to Epic...

I was sitting with a new church planter yesterday, talking. He asked, "So how have you avoided burn out?" And my first thought, honestly?

I haven't. 

It's not so much burnout maybe as... rust. Ennui. 

As I thought and as we talked I came to think that what I'm feeling is something of the natural extension of the "church planters" personality- that entrepreneurial make-up that pushes us to new things, keeps us from settling in and being satisfied with the status quo... and maybe causes certain people to blow up their lives every so often. 

I've been feeling a desire to be challenged, to be not so much pushed, but pulled purposefully into something deeper, more difficult, more...

Don't worry- I'm not going anywhere. 

But I do think this next stage of my life is going to involve going deeper into mentoring others, building skills in listening and coaching which will express itself in writing and speaking more.

So- first things- blog more. This blog is like a withering plant- dry, dusty, in desperate need of revival. And that's just a symptom really of where my state of creativity is. Writing is a skill that gets easier the more you do. A writer writes... always™! 

Second- finish my book proposal for the video venue/internet church thing. I think the time is right for a critical look- Lord knows there's a new "pro" book every week... 

Third, in my pastoral work, I need to get more focused. I feel as though an effort to bring others along and hand off certain things has left me feeling a blurry and rootless as to my role. So, time to take a slice of the pie of our community and go deeper while continuing to try to bring new and existing leadership along. As it is now, I feel like an effort to step back and let others step forward has resulted in few people feeling pastored by me. It shouldn't be an either/or.

Fourth, my New Year's resolution to "kick ass" needs some, uh... resuscitation. Physically, mentally, spiritually... Ruts suck. Just say no. 

But I will say this- I'm well on my way to an epic beard!

Rescue Mission

For the past few months I've been taking the family down to the Rescue Mission on the 3rd Friday to serve. For awhile, I wondered if this was really worth it- it was far from the Mission scene in Dr. Horrible- you know, kindly indigents quietly eating their soup with thankful, beatific looks on their faces. This was more like a bunch of people who knew how to work the system (many were coming from one meal a few blocks over and many more were preparing to go just a block down for yet another meal after- with it possible to get free breakfast, lunch and dinner every day of the week now in PDX, no one needs to go hungry here).

But, slowly, I've come to appreciate, and even look forward to being there. 

I think it's impacting me in a very good way. 

1st, there's the compassion thing. I recognize that there ARE a lot of folks on the street who for one reason or another choose to be there. Yeah- it's a hard life, but being a "normal" to them is probably harder, so this is what they prefer. But in spite of those folks, every time I'm there, my heart is captured by someone's face, someone's story- someone who clearly would rather be elsewhere- who's either been beaten down by life, is suffering mental illness, or has just gotten old and finds that it's a hard life to make your way in. I love those folks, and more and more as I'm around them I am learning what it means to just sit and talk, listen, pray for and with them. 

2nd, there's the family thing. They LOVE our kids. We bring all three, with Jack and Jane serving on the line in aprons and Josie usually riding on my back in the pack. They smile to see a baby, have a small child serve them. And, our kids love going- they are learning to serve. They are learning that not everyone lives the kind of life we do. 

I think a lot of people come down to the Mission and see the line of guests come through, realize they will be served and eat whether we come and volunteer or not and so wonder if it's really worth it. 

It is.

It's worth it to them to be served by someone who cares, who smiles, who offers them kindness when what they normally get on the street is contempt, who will pray for them, look them in the eye and treat them like a person...

And it's worth it to us- but not immediately. I think the "magic" of serving in a place like the Rescue Mission is what happens over months and maybe years of regularly showing up- learning names, hearing stories, offering kindness and prayer- having your views change and your heart moved. That won't necessarily happen the first time you come or even the 4th or 5th time... but like our friends in the recovery community say- "Keep coming back- It works if you work it." 

And it does work...

Closure

I want to thank everyone who's prayed for me over the last few days. What could have been a hard and "low" period for me has ended up actually being a good time of closure and of thankfulness for my life.

I flew down to San Diego yesterday to bury my father. He died and was buried just how he lived, how he liked it- alone. 

I wish I could say my dad and I had a complicated history, but we don't. Far from it- it's pretty simple, actually. He was never really interested in being a dad, so he wasn't. End of story. 

I used to expend a lot of energy wishing it was different- but over the years learned to make peace with his total absence. Yes, there would be the occasional flare-ups, like when I flew the family down to San Diego last year because I wanted him to meet his grandchildren at least once in his life- and he didn't show up. 

But all in all, I've gotten to a place where being a dad has superseded having a dad in my emotional hierarchy- and yesterday was a good time of cementing that and saying good bye. 

I flew down early in the morning, got a rental car and after driving by the house I grew up in, drove to my aunt and uncle's. I bundled them in the car and we headed to the funeral home. 

This is the same place where I said goodbye to the grandparents who raised me- the same funeral home, the same chapel room, the same wooden stand their coffins sat on. 

The difference was, there were people there for both my grandfather and grandmother's funerals. Not so with this one. 

 No friends. No neighbors. No acquaintances... no family other than myself and his sister and brother-in-law who'd done the hard job of taking care of him for almost a decade now. 

Depressing, but not surprising. He cultivated no friendships, didn't seem to have spoken to his neighbors at all- he lived only for himself- his next meal, his next TV show, whatever...

So in the end, he got what he wanted. 

To be alone. 

After my aunt and uncle paid their respects, I sat with him for awhile, silently saying some things. Mostly just letting go. 

I realized as I looked at him in that box that I wasn't angry, I wasn't bitter... I wasn't even sad. 

I forgave him. I forgave him and prayed that God would too- that He would have mercy on my dad, even then knowing that my dad wouldn't want or take it if it was offered. That even in the end, he would choose what he always chose- himself. To be alone. 

But it was good closure- sitting there I realized my heart was light- not happy, but simply unburdened. Closure. 

We drove to the cemetery and re-enacted what we'd just done at the funeral home. The three of us sitting there, saying a few things about my dad- but what is there really to say? 

"Better to spend your time at funerals than at parties.

After all, everyone dies— so the living should take this to heart."

I was exhausted  coming home and decided to upgrade out of cattle class to 1st class for the ride home. First time I'd ever done that... but very glad and thankful to have dinner, some space to stretch out and even this: 

When I got home, Jack and Jane ran and grabbed me shouting "Daddy, Daddy! We missed you!" 

Ahh... to be missed. 

My dad won't be. 

I hope to keep living and fathering so I will be.

From the Archives: Limitations

You'll notice the blog has been a bit more... sporadic... lately. 

I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but I want to remember what I wrote just a few months ago: 

Limitations

I've been thinking through the issue of why I haven't been blogging as much... that's probably a nice way to put it, yeah? Truthfully, these last three months have found my blog laying by the side of the road like a wounded lemur. Will no one stop to help?

Anyway...

I've been (somewhat) enjoying the break, feeling a strange freedom from expression. It's not that I haven't had thoughts these last few months- I just haven't shared many with you. Naughty, I know. But maybe necessary. 

Maybe a break has been just what I needed, and more than the few weeks' hiatus that generally occurs around December. Maybe what I've needed was to reengage with why I do this blog, why I run PastorHacks.com.

Reading Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership has been good for me. Ruth Haley Barton is the real deal, and her wisdom for those trying to engage the difficult life of leadership as well as the disciplines which do (or rather, must) undergird it are invaluable. 

Here's what she said that stopped me in my tracks and convinced me I needed to do more of a reevaluation than simply taking a breather when it came to blogging and websites and the like:

"There is something deeply spiritual about honoring the limitations of our lives and the boundaries of what God has given us to do as leaders. Narcissistic leaders are always looking beyond their sphere of influence with visions of grandiosity far out of proportion to what is actually being given. Living within our limits means living within the finiteness of who we are as individuals and as a community- the limits of time and space, the limits of our physical, emotional, relational and spiritual capacities, the limits of our stage of life... and the limits of the calling God has given. It means doing this and not that. It means doing this much and not more."

As I read this, I felt the subtle shift inside from "dream big" to "dream deep." There's a time to go all Jabez and try to extend the circle of influence of our lives as widely as possible. And there's a time to recognize that eventually, that becomes counter productive to getting beyond the merely surface level in any area. To truly master something, you have to give yourself to it. You have to say no to a lot of things to say yes to one or two. 

Right now, my priorities are serving/worshiping/glorifying God through my family, my church and becoming the person I feel like God has me on track to become. My confession is that those priorities don't always work themselves out in that order and that I continually feel the tug of mission creep. Invitations which appeal to one's ego are difficult to turn down. 

The psychic weight of blogging and maintaining readership is honestly something I could live without. It feels at times like simply another obligation. 

While I love hearing from people I meet that something I wrote has helped them or contributed to their church planting/pastoral/personal journey, I recognize that I love it both in a healthy and unhealthy way. 

At my worst moments, I recognize that this whole thing of blogs and stats, of links and hat tips is an ego booster that needs to be kept in check. Scratch that. "In check" doesn't get it. "Killed" or more precisely "crucified" would be the right way to say it. To the extent I allow my identity to be based on being known and appreciated for writing or a blog, I'm actually feeding a cancer on my soul that, uncrucified will leave me a self-centered husk who cares more about stats than anything else.

Something I care about will get crucified. And it's either going to be my ego or more important things (like family, church, etc). Worst case scenario thinking, I know. But I'm pretty good at looking down the road and playing out consequences, and I'll just have to ask you to trust me on this one. 

So, is this my "Dear Bob.Blog Readers" letter of dropping out of the blog world? 

No. 

But it is an admission that my family is more important than you, my church is more important than you, and my personal mental/spiritual/emotional health is more important. For me, right now, I have to stop thinking as broadly as I have, I have to stop trying to "influence the conversation." 

"When we refuse to live within our limits (one of my deepest temptations), we wear out ourselves and those who lead with us. We compromise the quality of our relationships with God and the people around us. We compromise our effectiveness at doing the things we have been called to do. To live within our limits is to live humbly as the creature, not the Creator. Only God is infinite; the rest of us need to be very clear about what we are about in any given moment and say no to everything else."

I think it's a particular pastoral temptation to be dissatisfied with the ministry and situation God has given me- to dream constantly of bigger and better, of more influence and respect, to lose sight of what's now because we focus so much on what's next.

It's a given that I'm a husband and father and need to constantly renew my commitment to placing them first. I'm also a pastor. God has given me a church. These are my people. And in ten years I want to be known, not for having written a bunch of stuff that not many people remember, but for having given myself to the care, feeding and encouragement of my family and a group of people called Evergreen. I need to stop mourning the fact that my family and pastoral duties preclude me from writing that book or the killer blog post that will set the internets on fire. The work God has given me for this period of my life is enough to challenge me, to sustain me and for me to enjoy setting my hands to.

And enough to form me, I think... to get me where I want to be after 10-15 years- The wise, older man (who may or may not have a grey, balding ponytail- TBD) who can speak into the lives of pastors and mentor leaders and serve the church through serving those who lead. 

I guess I'm realizing that for all intents and purposes, I've just been trying to jump that gun a bit. 

So I will continue to blog and express myself, but won't obsess over it. I hope what I post will be meaningful first for Evergreeners and where they are at, second for those in ministry or heading that way, and third for those who for one reason or another are interested in what I have to say.  

And maybe I'll check the stats a little less too.

I've been thinking through the issue of why I haven't been blogging as much... that's probably a nice way to put it, yeah? Truthfully, these last three months have found my blog laying by the side of the road like a wounded lemur. Will no one stop to help?

Anyway...

I've been (somewhat) enjoying the break, feeling a strange freedom from expression. It's not that I haven't had thoughts these last few months- I just haven't shared many with you. Naughty, I know. But maybe necessary. 

Maybe a break has been just what I needed, and more than the few weeks' hiatus that generally occurs around December. Maybe what I've needed was to reengage with why I do this blog, why I run PastorHacks.com.

Reading Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership has been good for me. Ruth Haley Barton is the real deal, and her wisdom for those trying to engage the difficult life of leadership as well as the disciplines which do (or rather, must) undergird it are invaluable. 

Here's what she said that stopped me in my tracks and convinced me I needed to do more of a reevaluation than simply taking a breather when it came to blogging and websites and the like:

"There is something deeply spiritual about honoring the limitations of our lives and the boundaries of what God has given us to do as leaders. Narcissistic leaders are always looking beyond their sphere of influence with visions of grandiosity far out of proportion to what is actually being given. Living within our limits means living within the finiteness of who we are as individuals and as a community- the limits of time and space, the limits of our physical, emotional, relational and spiritual capacities, the limits of our stage of life... and the limits of the calling God has given. It means doing this and not that. It means doing this much and not more."

As I read this, I felt the subtle shift inside from "dream big" to "dream deep." There's a time to go all Jabez and try to extend the circle of influence of our lives as widely as possible. And there's a time to recognize that eventually, that becomes counter productive to getting beyond the merely surface level in any area. To truly master something, you have to give yourself to it. You have to say no to a lot of things to say yes to one or two. 

Right now, my priorities are serving/worshiping/glorifying God through my family, my church and becoming the person I feel like God has me on track to become. My confession is that those priorities don't always work themselves out in that order and that I continually feel the tug of mission creep. Invitations which appeal to one's ego are difficult to turn down. 

The psychic weight of blogging and maintaining readership is honestly something I could live without. It feels at times like simply another obligation. 

While I love hearing from people I meet that something I wrote has helped them or contributed to their church planting/pastoral/personal journey, I recognize that I love it both in a healthy and unhealthy way. 

At my worst moments, I recognize that this whole thing of blogs and stats, of links and hat tips is an ego booster that needs to be kept in check. Scratch that. "In check" doesn't get it. "Killed" or more precisely "crucified" would be the right way to say it. To the extent I allow my identity to be based on being known and appreciated for writing or a blog, I'm actually feeding a cancer on my soul that, uncrucified will leave me a self-centered husk who cares more about stats than anything else.

Something I care about will get crucified. And it's either going to be my ego or more important things (like family, church, etc). Worst case scenario thinking, I know. But I'm pretty good at looking down the road and playing out consequences, and I'll just have to ask you to trust me on this one. 

So, is this my "Dear Bob.Blog Readers" letter of dropping out of the blog world? 

No. 

But it is an admission that my family is more important than you, my church is more important than you, and my personal mental/spiritual/emotional health is more important. For me, right now, I have to stop thinking as broadly as I have, I have to stop trying to "influence the conversation." 

"When we refuse to live within our limits (one of my deepest temptations), we wear out ourselves and those who lead with us. We compromise the quality of our relationships with God and the people around us. We compromise our effectiveness at doing the things we have been called to do. To live within our limits is to live humbly as the creature, not the Creator. Only God is infinite; the rest of us need to be very clear about what we are about in any given moment and say no to everything else."

I think it's a particular pastoral temptation to be dissatisfied with the ministry and situation God has given me- to dream constantly of bigger and better, of more influence and respect, to lose sight of what's now because we focus so much on what's next.

It's a given that I'm a husband and father and need to constantly renew my commitment to placing them first. I'm also a pastor. God has given me a church. These are my people. And in ten years I want to be known, not for having written a bunch of stuff that not many people remember, but for having given myself to the care, feeding and encouragement of my family and a group of people called Evergreen. I need to stop mourning the fact that my family and pastoral duties preclude me from writing that book or the killer blog post that will set the internets on fire. The work God has given me for this period of my life is enough to challenge me, to sustain me and for me to enjoy setting my hands to.

And enough to form me, I think... to get me where I want to be after 10-15 years- The wise, older man (who may or may not have a grey, balding ponytail- TBD) who can speak into the lives of pastors and mentor leaders and serve the church through serving those who lead. 

I guess I'm realizing that for all intents and purposes, I've just been trying to jump that gun a bit. 

So I will continue to blog and express myself, but won't obsess over it. I hope what I post will be meaningful first for Evergreeners and where they are at, second for those in ministry or heading that way, and third for those who for one reason or another are interested in what I have to say.  

And maybe I'll check the stats a little less too.

The Productive Uncomfortability of Worship...

When I was in junior high or high school, I memorized Gal 2:20 (at camp, to a song which I still remember no less):

"I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me, and gave Himself up for me."

And even though I memorized that verse 25 years ago I think I can honestly say that it's only in the last couple of months that I've really begun to understand it. 

I had always read that verse as one of those "theological reality" pieces that describe the "essence" of who we are as followers of Jesus. We are the ones who have been identified with the death (and resurrection) of Jesus. 

Cool- got it. Not by my works, as he tells the Galatians. But by Jesus' work. Got it. 

But what if Paul isn't speaking (just) theologically? What if he's speaking experientially? What if this thought, written probably 20 years after he began, describes not just the reality of what happened to Paul when he started following Jesus- but what has happened every day of the last 20 years? And continues to happen. And what must happen... to me.

When I think of this as someone farther along in maturity than me describing not just the reality of justification, but the process of conversion, of maturity and growth, I begin to understand the every day struggle and war within myself. 

And I begin to see what I need to do about it. 

We've been having a long and good discussion on our forum about our worship. Some have expressed frustration at our lack of engagement and any outward indication that many of us are worshipping as opposed to mentally cataloguing our DVD collection. Others have said "Back off- I worship in my own way." Others have expressed a desire to be more engaged and acknowledged the reality that in a community, what we do or don't do actually impacts others, particularly when it comes to community disciplines like worship. All in all I'm glad to be a part of a community that can have such open conversations- where some can say "I wish we worshipped more emotively" and others can say "Please, no!"

Actually, I get that discomfort with worship in all its forms. I really do- and I'm not just saying that- I feel it too. But, I think the discomfort is a sign that in many ways, the worship we are doing as a community is having one of its intended effects on us as individuals. 

Over the last few years my weight has gone up and down- between 175 or so on the high end and 139 on the low. So yeah- at one point, I lost close to 40 pounds. How? 

A little diet I like to call "eat less and exercise." 

I had tried many, many times to shed some pounds with varying degrees of success, but never really hit the sweet spot until I made one small mental adjustment. 

I started to "enjoy" feeling hungry. 

It wasn't that I liked the feeling. It was more- when I felt it, I knew I was making progress. When my body said "eat!" or "eat more" and I said "No" or "Not yet" I was rewarded with some discomfort. And it wasn't until I embraced that discomfort and learned to listen to it in a different way (not listening to it as a signal that I needed to eat, but as a signal I was pressing in the right direction) that I got where I wanted to be. 

Like I say- I get that parts of worship are uncomfortable. Do I want to sit with you, pray with you, sing with you? No, I really don't.

And in a way, that's exactly why I do it. 

I recognize that pain and discomfort is an odd thing to talk about this way. Most pain/discomfort is a signal to do a 180. But some is a signal to keep going. And part of growing up is learning the difference. 

We sing less than probably 80% of the congregations out there- no 30-40 minute sets to start us off (though some EGers would love that), no extended periods of song after song after song. Mostly, we break up 3-5 songs throughout the morning. Generally our longest set is 15 minutes and 3 songs long. We do it this way because we want to signal: It's ALL worship. Not just this part at the beginning. And worship isn't the prelude to the main event (the sermon). It's all worship, and that's the main event. 

But because we see singing talked about both descriptively and prescriptively in scripture, because it's difficult to find communal worship talked about in Scripture (whether descriptive or prescriptively) that doesn't involve music and singing... we sing. 

It's one of the ways we try to remain in the historical stream of all those who came before us and one of the ways we try to worship God as HE wants to be worshipped. 

I try constantly to remind myself- worship isn't about us. In fact, in so far as it's specifically about pulling our hearts off of ourselves and the things we have attached them to and attaching them to God, it makes sense to me that I would lean into some things I wouldn't choose otherwise. 

In other words- often I find myself not worshiping by praying, listening to Scripture, singing because I want to... but precisely because I don't. 

Not to get too preachy here (but I'm going to get too preachy here): Some day our knee will bow before Jesus in worship. At least for myself, I'd like it not to be the first time. And inasmuch as I'd like my stubborn knees to get used to bowing (and my stubborn heart, my stubborn mouth, etc to that worship) I think a little practice is in order. 

To me, it's all a part of the process of me being crucified- doing the daily dying to myself Jesus told me I would need to do if I were to truly follow Him. Did I think that would involve only my money? Only my time? Did I think any part of me would escape?

When I choose to do that which I would not otherwise do for the sake of others, for the sake of Jesus, whether in sacrifice or in worship, I am being formed. Formed into someone that looks just that much more like Jesus.

Someday, my sincere hope is to be able to look back and truthfully say "I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ in me" and have it describe not just a theological reality... but the day-to-day existence I have lived. 

I just know it starts right now.  

Thank God for crappy dads!

Last week I was meeting over breakfast with some guys I meet over breakfast with... and I found myself feeling the most extraordinary feeling: gratitude for my dad. 

We were talking about various and sundry things God is doing, pushing or pulling us toward, and one guy was mentioning how grateful he is for having a wonderful dad. Loves the guy. Tries to look past the one or two little things that really bother him about their relationship because he knows his dad cares. But still, there are these one or two things that feel something like a wound...

As we talked about those one or two little things, my only thought, and what came out of my mouth was this: Well, thank God your dad isn't perfect. 

Thank God MY dad isn't perfect. 

It was a revelation to me when in High School someone told me my view of God was likely very much shaped by my view of my father. While the correlation wasn't perfect, I could certainly see some of the ways it was true. 

Later, it was even more a revelation to read Eph 3:14-15 ("For Whom every family in heaven and on earth is named [that Father from Whom all fatherhood takes its title and derives its name]."- Amplified Bible).

We get angry when our parents fail us, or when our dad isn't the loving, gracious, patient (fill in the adjective) father we want. We get even more angry when we realize they were meant to be a certain way, draw a certain picture... Our parents, and for the sake of this discussion, our fathers are meant to point to that Father of which they are merely a shadow, a type. 

But here's the thing: more than meant to- they DO. 

Even the crappy ones. 

They point us to God in both what they do well and in what they do poorly. They point us to him when they succeed in loving us and when they fail to. 

How? How could they point us to Him in their failure?

Because if they were perfect, did it ALL right, offered us unconditional love that was always patient, always wise, always nurturing and building into us... well, I guess we wouldn't need God, right? We'd be satisfied with that guy over there in the Lay-Z-Boy and completely miss the God of the Universe, the God who made us, pursues us, died for us. 

I realize it's probably a little too John Piper-esque for some reading this to say "Thank God for all the ways in which your dad failed you." So I'm not going to say that. 

But I will say this: I'm thankful for a dad who didn't get much right (and that's probably about the most generous assessment I've ever done of his fathering). I'm thankful because though he never pointed me to God intentionally, by his absence and indifference he drove me to lean all the more heavily on the God who is always present and never indifferent- the God who loves me, like the Psalmist says, with an everlasting love. 

I realize that may be an odd way to appreciate my dad, but it's the truth. 

And if that's ALL my dad ever did for me, I think it's enough. 

Recovery

Still recovering from this week's fast trip down to San Diego- yesterday I felt as though a train had hit me, today somewhat better. Now I'm trying to get my head back in the game, back in the present... back in Portland. 

Too much happening here with my family, my church and my life to worry much more about what's happening in San Diego, but for those who missed the twitter or facebook updates...

I spent Tuesday cleaning out my dad's apartment, filtering through his personal effects, pulling out the few letters he had hung onto from 20 years ago, the pictures, the old year books. The guy's life peaked in the late 60's and stopped altogether in the late 80s. Nothing significant, no relationships, no movement happened after that. 

It's frightening what 9 years in an apartment with only minimal cleaning by a cleaning person can do- the dust and cobwebs, the cigarette smoke stains on every surface- I moved a box in the closet, and the carpet underneath was white while all around it was brown. Amazing.  

I filled a dumpster with rotting clothes, old mail, kitchenware I grown up eating off of which had largely gone unused this last decade as my dad ate mostly fast food every day, The fridge was a nightmare. 

I saved the pictures and letters and things and put them in a box for him. Not sure where he's going to end up, somewhere with 24-hour care, but when he goes, he'll have a suitcase of clothes and a box of pictures and that's it. The take-away from a wasted life. 

I do feel compassion for him, though... he's clearly in pain, both physical and emotional. He finds himself with nothing and no one, unable or unwilling to even try communicating. 

I sat with him for about half an hour on Tuesday- I wish it was longer, but honestly- it was all I could take. He barely looked at me- once, possibly for 15 seconds, and then went back to the TV. 

"It's been a hard few months, hasn't it?" 

"Yeah."

Are you feeling better today?"

"Yeah"

One word answers, grunts... 

I took the initiative and apologized for not having been in better touch the last few years. I told him I was sorry we didn't have a better relationship. No response. 

I mentioned a few times I thought I would go and didn't know if I would see him again. No response. 

After a half hour, much of it just sitting next to him in silence, I got up and said I would be on my way. As I walked around the bed he (finally) followed me with his eyes and said "Why?" 

"Is there anything you want to say to me?" I asked.

"No," he said eyes back on the TV again.

"That's why," I answered. 

Looking back, I wish I had had the ability to just sit. I don't think anything would have changed. There were no breakthroughs, no opening-ups, no nothing even remotely in the works. 

But still...

I'm glad to have seen him, glad to have made an effort. Glad I got to thank my uncle and aunt for the truly heroic efforts and work they've done on his behalf in the last decade. 

Sorry he has ended up where and how he has. 

On the anvil, again...

I think God and I are having a "moment." 

About a week ago, I began praying what will inevitably go down as one of the more stupid prayers I've ever prayed: "God show me what your discipline looks like."

I was reading in Proverbs where it says "People who accept discipline are on the pathway to life, but those who ignore correction will go astray." 

Not wanting to be one of the ignorers, I started thinking through what God's discipline looks like. What does it mean to be corrected by God? Hebrews says 

"'For the Lord disciplines those he loves,
and he punishes each one he accepts as his child.'”
As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as his own children. Who ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by its father?

God disciplines us for our own good. Check. 

Out of love. Check. 

And that looks like...? 

What I didn't want to say was "crappy circumstances=God's discipline." That's an equation that's just too easy to abuse. The fact is, crap happens to the just and the unjust, as it were. 

But...

If it's not circumstantial, what is it? A guilty conscience (sorry... "convicted")? A sense of God's distance or some other kind of feeling? What does it look like when God lays down the smack in your life? 

So I started asking- God show me. Help me understand. 

Long and the short of it is, it's been a crappy week. 

I'm not ready to make any conclusions yet, but the loss, the "taking away" that's happened over the last week has been pretty noticeable. My health, my wallet, the work of my hands, relationships... all of it has been affected. I won't detail it all, but it's cost me a lot of time, effort, money and brain cycles. 

In the midst of this whole thing, God has been speaking to me. Last week, as I sat out on the porch (taking the day off due to nausea and throwing up the night before) I began to hear from God about growing up in my faith- about not being the kind of guy who cuts corners in the least, about a more mature, more straight approach to God, to others and to life. There are more specifics, but those are between me and Him, at least for now. 

And still I'm not sure... God speaking to me, God laying His hand on my life, God pushing me to grow up? 

Sounds like what discipline is for. 

And this sure feels like "discipline." 

I guess I'm getting an answer- the only question left is... 

Will I listen?

My better and not so better moments...

Maybe I should just start each new blog post with "Sorry I haven't been blogging more"? 

But since it's just you and me now blog, and all those other folks who used to hang around and read this stuff have moved on to Letters From Kamp Krusty and Dustin's blog, I guess we can get back down to business, eh? 

So much and so little happening, all at the same time. 

Looks like I'm probably heading down to San Diego a week from today. So, the week before Palm Sunday, the start of our 3rd Gathering, trying to get ready for Good Friday and Easter, I'm hopping on a plane to deal with dad. 

I'm really trying to be okay with it, but it's a struggle. In my best moments, I feel compassion for him, am able to think redemptively about what it means to go and serve someone who has cultivated a careful indifference to you over nearly 40 years, about finding healing by answering the hostility of that indifference with love and trying to be Jesus to someone who seems to have missed Him...

In my worst moments I think "Screw him. I have a life, a family, a church community and damned if they are going to pay even the smallest price for this guy who just couldn't be bothered."

I try not to let that voice win... and I guess it's not, seeing as how I'm checking airfares, thinking thru who I can crash with and such. 

Dad... and Compassionate Detachment.

My dad almost died the night before last. He lives in San Diego, by himself in a small apartment. We have to have a cleaning lady come in to keep the apartment since on his own, he'll leave trash, food, whatever to rot. The neighbors complained, so we got some help.

She discovered him laying in blood soaked sheets, nearly bled out. 

A massive heart attack a few months ago meant a shunt and dialysis three times weekly for failing kidneys, and when the doctors began to worry about infection from the dialysis working its way to his heart, they put in some new hardware last week. 

Apparently, he didn't like it, and pulled it out, and in the process lost about 1000ccs of blood, maybe more. The average human body has 4000-5000ccs. 

If you've been following the blog here, you know the relationship with my dad is complicated, to put it mildly. He's just never been there- not in my childhood, or my adulthood- not showing up to my wedding, or even a visit we had set up so he could meet my wife and children. 

Generally speaking, whenever "Dad" stuff comes up, my back begins to spasm, my muscles clench and I can feel myself drifting towards fight or flight. 

But today, I'm doing ok. Better than okay, really. 

I got the news yesterday just before heading in to sit with the guy who's doing spiritual direction with me- probably about the best timing imaginable. "Providential" might be the word. 

As I processed with Morris some of the pain around the idea that my aunt and uncle who've been caring for my do-nothing dad for years now have reached the end of their ability to be involved and in charge of his existence, and that I was being called on to step in, I felt some of the old tightening in my back, some of the anger begin to rise up at the idea that I would be expected to care for someone who has worked hard to cultivate a practiced indifference to me and my life. 

But as we talked, as some of the knots began to untangle, I realized- actually, I'm not angry. I'm not worried. I'm... calm. At peace.  

How could this be?

Early yesterday morning, meeting with some guys, I was talking about the growth that has happened for me over the last year. And how I've had a growing feeling that in some ways, God was preparing me to deal with some hard things and that they were coming soon.  

This morning as I sat, before the family or even the sun rose, with my Bible, my prayer journal, a good book to stretch me, I realized- part of my calm right now is simply a result of having cultivated through the discipline of meeting with God on a daily basis, a trust in Him that actually makes in difference when it comes to dealing with the crap life throws at you. 

Of course, that's always been the theory hasn't it? But over the last 24 hours, I've seen it play out in real time. No- I'm not saying I've "arrived" in any sense of the word. I am saying that the disciplines matter. I feel like a guy who's been running a mile a day for the last year and is suddenly called on to do a 10k... and finds it not easy, but easier than expected.

As I ended with Morris yesterday, we prayed. And as we prayed, he asked me to picture Jesus entering the room with my dad. I pictured Him walking into the tiny bedroom that my dad has chosen to be his world for the last nearly ten years, and sitting on the bed next to him, putting an arm on his shoulder, telling him He loved him, was sorry for his wasted life, but still... wanted to redeem and renew him, his life. 

What, Morris asked, was Jesus saying to me and to my dad?

My aunt and uncle aside, I realized, I'm about the only Jesus my dad is going to see. Jesus may say those things to my dad, but He'll be using my mouth to do it. He may put an arm around him, but it will be mine.

By the same token, I know- Whatever I give my dad has to come from a place of grace, which is good, because to be honest, the only love I have for him is the love of Jesus. But then again, that's more than enough. 

At the same time I felt God telling me to be Jesus to my dad, I also sensed Him telling me- just remember, you're NOT Jesus. You don't have to die for this man. Someone Else already did that. There's a definite limit to what I can and should do here.

So here's where I'm at- I'm going to work with adult services to do what I can to get my dad the best possible available, some assisted living so he can live out his days in the solitary he desires. But I don't think I can do more than that- I don't think we'll be running up hundreds of thousands in debt to prolong an existence he doesn't seem very committed to himself for another year or two. I can't sacrifice myself or my kids education to help someone who seems entirely uninterested in helping himself, and has always seemed that way.  I'm not going to put my family at risk to do it. "Compassionate detachment" is the phrase in my head and oxymoronical as it seems, I think that about captures it. Even without drowning in the details and effort of propping up a failed life, I can show my dad love, show compassion, help him as I can and show him Jesus in the process. 

That feels about right. A little back-tightening... but mostly, peace. 

It's going to be an interesting month, though...

Limitations

I've been thinking through the issue of why I haven't been blogging as much... that's probably a nice way to put it, yeah? Truthfully, these last three months have found my blog laying by the side of the road like a wounded lemur. Will no one stop to help?

Anyway...

I've been (somewhat) enjoying the break, feeling a strange freedom from expression. It's not that I haven't had thoughts these last few months- I just haven't shared many with you. Naughty, I know. But maybe necessary. 

Maybe a break has been just what I needed, and more than the few weeks' hiatus that generally occurs around December. Maybe what I've needed was to reengage with why I do this blog, why I run PastorHacks.com.

Reading Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership has been good for me. Ruth Haley Barton is the real deal, and her wisdom for those trying to engage the difficult life of leadership as well as the disciplines which do (or rather, must) undergird it are invaluable. 

Here's what she said that stopped me in my tracks and convinced me I needed to do more of a reevaluation than simply taking a breather when it came to blogging and websites and the like:

"There is something deeply spiritual about honoring the limitations of our lives and the boundaries of what God has given us to do as leaders. Narcissistic leaders are always looking beyond their sphere of influence with visions of grandiosity far out of proportion to what is actually being given. Living within our limits means living within the finiteness of who we are as individuals and as a community- the limits of time and space, the limits of our physical, emotional, relational and spiritual capacities, the limits of our stage of life... and the limits of the calling God has given. It means doing this and not that. It means doing this much and not more."

As I read this, I felt the subtle shift inside from "dream big" to "dream deep." There's a time to go all Jabez and try to extend the circle of influence of our lives as widely as possible. And there's a time to recognize that eventually, that becomes counter productive to getting beyond the merely surface level in any area. To truly master something, you have to give yourself to it. You have to say no to a lot of things to say yes to one or two. 

Right now, my priorities are serving/worshiping/glorifying God through my family, my church and becoming the person I feel like God has me on track to become. My confession is that those priorities don't always work themselves out in that order and that I continually feel the tug of mission creep. Invitations which appeal to one's ego are difficult to turn down. 

The psychic weight of blogging and maintaining readership is honestly something I could live without. It feels at times like simply another obligation. 

While I love hearing from people I meet that something I wrote has helped them or contributed to their church planting/pastoral/personal journey, I recognize that I love it both in a healthy and unhealthy way. 

At my worst moments, I recognize that this whole thing of blogs and stats, of links and hat tips is an ego booster that needs to be kept in check. Scratch that. "In check" doesn't get it. "Killed" or more precisely "crucified" would be the right way to say it. To the extent I allow my identity to be based on being known and appreciated for writing or a blog, I'm actually feeding a cancer on my soul that, uncrucified will leave me a self-centered husk who cares more about stats than anything else.

Something I care about will get crucified. And it's either going to be my ego or more important things (like family, church, etc). Worst case scenario thinking, I know. But I'm pretty good at looking down the road and playing out consequences, and I'll just have to ask you to trust me on this one. 

So, is this my "Dear Bob.Blog Readers" letter of dropping out of the blog world? 

No. 

But it is an admission that my family is more important than you, my church is more important than you, and my personal mental/spiritual/emotional health is more important. For me, right now, I have to stop thinking as broadly as I have, I have to stop trying to "influence the conversation." 

"When we refuse to live within our limits (one of my deepest temptations), we wear out ourselves and those who lead with us. We compromise the quality of our relationships with God and the people around us. We compromise our effectiveness at doing the things we have been called to do. To live within our limits is to live humbly as the creature, not the Creator. Only God is infinite; the rest of us need to be very clear about what we are about in any given moment and say no to everything else."

I think it's a particular pastoral temptation to be dissatisfied with the ministry and situation God has given me- to dream constantly of bigger and better, of more influence and respect, to lose sight of what's now because we focus so much on what's next.

It's a given that I'm a husband and father and need to constantly renew my commitment to placing them first. I'm also a pastor. God has given me a church. These are my people. And in ten years I want to be known, not for having written a bunch of stuff that not many people remember, but for having given myself to the care, feeding and encouragement of my family and a group of people called Evergreen. I need to stop mourning the fact that my family and pastoral duties preclude me from writing that book or the killer blog post that will set the internets on fire. The work God has given me for this period of my life is enough to challenge me, to sustain me and for me to enjoy setting my hands to.

And enough to form me, I think... to get me where I want to be after 10-15 years- The wise, older man (who may or may not have a grey, balding ponytail- TBD) who can speak into the lives of pastors and mentor leaders and serve the church through serving those who lead. 

I guess I'm realizing that for all intents and purposes, I've just been trying to jump that gun a bit. 

So I will continue to blog and express myself, but won't obsess over it. I hope what I post will be meaningful first for Evergreeners and where they are at, second for those in ministry or heading that way, and third for those who for one reason or another are interested in what I have to say.  

And maybe I'll check the stats a little less too.

Resolution update...

Dustin asked me yesterday how the new year's resolution is coming. For those who don't remember, it was "kick ass"- which basically encompassed taking it up a notch on everything. He confessed that he wondered when he first read that whether I was speaking of the proverbial ass in general, or specific asses, and whether his was among them. My question is why it has to be an either/or.

 

At any rate, I told him "fairly well"- It's been a good week of trying to be more attentive to the things to which I'd like to be attentive- my wife, my kids, my health (the eating part hasn't magically changed itself, surprise, surprise), my work... I've been able to get a lot done, feel good about the work I'm doing, be more centered on and present to Scripture and prayer and what God is saying and doing in my life right now. The only part I feel less than kick-ass on is a commitment to write and blog more. It seems like it just doesn't all fit- that I can't be attentive to all those things and be someone who writes often and well. 

Or maybe I should say, there probably is a way to fit it, a way to establish rhythms of creativity and life where it all fits and comes together- I just haven't discovered what those are. I'm getting up even a bit earlier these days- before 5 now, so maybe that will help. 

And maybe it will explain why the next time you are with me past 8pm and I start slurring my words and nodding of during lulls in the conversation. It's not the white wine spritzer- it's just past my bedtime. 

Acedia no more: 2009

My big resolution for 2009? 

Kick Ass. 

Actually, Amy thought I was joking when I told her that. 

But I'm serious. 

In addition to it being New Year's, this is the year I turn 40... and both of those tend to make a guy think. Reassess, as it were.

As I look back on 2008, taken as a whole, what I sense is a growing amount of acedia, a state of listlessness and restlessness which tend to keep one from actually doing anything. Not depression, similar to ennui... more spiritual than emotional, acedia was first noticed (or at least written about) by the Desert Fathers. Similar to sloth, leading to dissatisfaction and prayerlessness...

2008 was the year I got tired, coasted, settled.

I think much of "energy" and creativity actually stems not so much from happenstance or lightening-strike serendipity but from decisions. Decisions to move forward, change, have the courage it takes to try, maybe fail, try again...

Kick ass. 

So that's it for me. I've felt stultified and uncreative. 

I'm not even going to run a "best of Bob.Blog for 2008. 

Why? Not much to run, honestly. 

This year (I have some specifics, but generally speaking) I want to read more, write more, exercise more, talk more, risk more, love more, give more, challenge more, forgive more... basically be more of the person I know I should be, but have simply lacked the will to lean into being. (And of course, what that really means is laying down idols and worshiping Jesus more, but that's another post...)

So, my resolution is to kick ass. 

For Jesus, of course, but still. 

Kick ass. 

Maybe yours.

I mean... "What's yours?"

:)

Dads, Heart Attacks and Grace.

If you were to look through the many boxes of old books, clothes, knick-knacks I have stashed in various places around the house, you might notice an abnormal amount of unaddressed, unwritten-in Christmas cards. Some birthday cards and a smattering of Father's day cards as well. 

I guess I have a habit of buying cards to send to my father and never actually getting around to sending them. 

It's been almost a year since we spoke. And probably 6 years before that. Not making the trip to my wedding was kind of a big deal to me. Ditto no acknowledgement of the birth of my son. Or my daughter. Or my other daughter. My birthday for the last decade or two... pretty much anything that someone else didn't drag him to. 

Last year, deciding it was probably time he meet my family and vice versa, I called and told him I'd be down there for the National Pastor's Convention, Amy and the kids would be flying down after and we'd all like to see him. We arranged to meet him along with my aunt and uncle at a restaurant.

Only my aunt and uncle showed up. No dad. No call. No apology. Just said he wasn't feeling up to it. 

I really thought that was the last straw. I'd already given up any vestige of hope for relationship- I wasn't fooling myself on that count. But I thought, for his sake, sitting alone in an apartment day after day after day, zero relationships- basically just running out the clock on life, maybe it would be nice to have some touch of real-life humanity. Maybe meeting his grandkids might do him some good, or at least, be something he'd enjoy. 

After the no-show, I stopped even caring to do that much. 

Until last week. 

I've been ruminating on grace, on those things we get while not even coming close to deserving them. I've been thinking that the response of someone who's been shown grace should be to extend that grace to others- and that necessarily means to those who don't deserve it. And to be honest, I can't think of anyone in my life who deserves less than my dad. 

So, I thought... the grace-full thing to do was send a card with pictures of the kids and tell him something about each of them and how we were doing. To offer him something of a real-life connection with a real family, even though everything he's done over the last four or more decades has fought that.

Thursday, I stopped by Walgreens on the way home. It only took me about 20 minutes to pick out a card, which, if you know anything about guys, you know... that's an eternity. I can buy a card in 30-40 seconds. But this was a bit harder. Anyway, card in hand, I headed home, and when Amy asked why I was buying Christmas cards before Halloween, I told her what I planned to do. 

This may be another card I never get to send. On my way to our elders meeting this morning I got a voicemail from my uncle saying my dad had a pretty big heart attack last night. He's hanging in there for now, though his kidneys are having trouble. 

I have no idea how to feel about that... But, if there's a sense he's on his way out, I'll get on a plane and go down there. I guess I have some things to say and I should probably give him an opportunity to say a few things as well. I think if I really believe in grace, it should probably mean something in the hardest relationship I have, not just the easy ones. 

Still waiting to hear the latest, so I think for now, I'll just go hug my kids.

bob.media

This post is mainly for my mom. :) 

 

Recent stuff I've done, "out and about"

Leadership Journal, Fall 2008- "Pastor Heal Thyself" (online here)

Out of Ur- I'm a regular, monthly (roughly) contributer- latest piece here 

Collide- It's not out yet, but Collide has already started the conversation around the cover piece done by myself and one of the pastors at a Mars Hill video venue... check it out

Neue- an online piece here (blog readers will recognize it) and, I think a piece on authentic community in their upcoming quarterly. 

As an aside... It's been awhile since I picked up Leadership Journal. Can I just say that it's fantastic? This issue I'm carrying around has a ton of stuff that I'm reading and have marked to read, including stuff by Neil Cole (Organic Church), Dan Kimball and Alan Hirsch.  

As well, check out Neue- you can preview their last quarterly online here

Why my sermon isn't done yet...

I sat down yesterday to study and begin writing the sermon for this weekend (1 Cor 14: 26-40... whoa...) at a local coffee shop. I hadn't been there but maybe 3 minutes when an older gentleman walked in, set up a chess board, and asked me and another guy working on his laptop if we were up for a game. 

I smiled but declined as did the other guy... I was on the clock, after all. 

But the longer the older man sat there, alone in front of his chessboard, the more I began to think about how much time I spend in coffee shops, earbuds in, head down over book or computer, completely missing out on one of the few genuine upsides to "officing" in a coffee shop- that chance to interact with people. 

So yeah, I got up and went and played two games of chess. 

I only meant to play one quick one, but we got to talking...

He totally suckered me in, too. Made out like he was someone who had recently gotten into chess, had bought a computer chess game and was now just looking for some human opponents. Over the course of two games (he trounced me in the first and narrowly won the second) I discovered that he does this nearly every day and has been doing so for years. 

We talked about our work (we're guys after all), so I got to tell him that I was a pastor and a little about evergreen. 

He'd been a part of a local church here for 30 years, but was now "taking a break."

I ended up being a little late to get home to Date Night... mainly because as we wrapped up the conversation started to get deep- some serious stuff going on, some real struggles, and as odd as it sounds, we got there, even as relative strangers in a coffee shop. One thing I've noticed about self-identifying yourself as a pastor with people- it often totally shuts them down OR they begin to unload some of the deepest stuff of their lives.

I mostly listened- didn't offer any great words of advice or wisdom. But I felt like even though my sermon might suffer, my pastoring didn't. 

I've been trying to make and stick with a decision to be less introverted in public- more aware and concerned about those around me. (Amy noted my downright chattiness with the waitress last night. A big switch for me) It's so easy for me to be gregarious with those who come to evergreen or already see me as "pastor." Much harder for me to do that in public spaces.

What I really want to do is earn the right to pastor those who don't already see me that way- to move the gifts God has given me out of our "Community" and into my community and see a group of people who don't come to evergreen and recognize me as their pastor, but who begin to see me as a spiritual friend who fills a role of pastor in their lives, and through that become connected to Jesus. 

The great and mysterious opportunity of my life...

"For Thy perfect wisdom and perfect goodness:

For the love wherewith Thou lovest mankind:

For the love wherewith Thou lovest me:

For the great and mysterious opportunity of my life:

For the indwelling of Thy Spirit in my heart:

For the sevenfold gifts of Thy Spirit:

I praise and worship Thee, O Lord."

-John Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer

That one line "For the great and mysterious opportunity of my life..." has been bouncing around in my head for days, doing some very good work in me. 

The birth of yet a third beautiful, perfect child is another opportunity to reflect on God's goodness to me and the great and mysterious opportunity he has given me in this life I lead.

Completely undeserved I have a wife who loves me, children I delight in, a home that shelters me in more ways than one, food in the pantry and clothes in the closet, a church full of people I love who allow me to help teach and shepherd them...

There are times when I am just awestruck by the gift of my life, and by the God who would give it to me. 

the Co-Dependent Pastor...

Two basic types of pastoral disfunction- the narcissist and the co-dependent. We all lean one way or the other on that continuum- some so little it's not really an issue, others, well...

The need to succeed or the need to please and avoid conflict. 

The narcissist, with his or her need to succeed really doesn't care what others think. When these people leave ministry, it's because they are driven out. Their self-centeredness and inability to empathize/think of others often looks for all the world like a person with vision and leadership charisma- someone who knows what needs to be done and does it. Unfortunately, when the truth becomes known, it's usually after people begin to see the long, long trail of metaphorical bodies that get left in the wake of these people- years of stepping on and over people may get you up the ladder, but sooner or later the toll becomes obvious and either the narcissist leaves or everyone else begins to. 

On the other side is the co-dependent. Helping professions are ripe soil for people who need others to help them establish a sense of identity... and the pastorate is no exception. It's a job where I can be fully and completely co-dependent and get rewarded for it. In fact, the more sold out the pastor is to you and your needs, the more he or she is (often) praised. The narcissist doesn't mind conflict- in fact, they kind of enjoy it. Another chance to focus attention on them and their leadership skills, but the co-dependent is motivated by the need for others' approval and will avoid even necessary conflict whenever possible. 

Which am I? 

Continue reading "the Co-Dependent Pastor..." »

"Our publishing committee discussed your book proposal today, and unfortunately decided not to acquire it for publication. Everyone on the committee thought the writing was first rate and on an important topic. But at this stage in our development, XXXX XXXX is not well equipped to market books to church leaders, which is obviously the primary market for your book.  I wish we were because I really wanted us to publish your book. But without a good marketing and sales plan in place to reach this market, we would be doing you a disservice by publishing your book and not giving it the marketing and sales support it deserves.

 

I think given the right publisher, you should have no trouble finding a home for your book. The obvious choices are Zondervan, Baker, and InterVarsity, but you might also consider Crossway, Moody, and B&H Publishing. Wherever  your book lands, I fully expect it to do well and for its important message to be well received.

 

Warmly,

XXX XXX"

Erg. Ah, well.. anyone know anyone at Zondervan, Baker, InterVarsity, Crossway, Moody, or B&H Publishing?? :)

This last week has just been... crazy.

Working with a couple through some heavy marital issues, considering renting our place and trying to move to something with a yard (and so looking at more houses than I care to remember), between our two gatherings our biggest Sunday attendance ever (not including that one freak Sunday with the 7 baby dedications and everyone's families showing up), Mom's heart attack...

Yeah- my mom had a heart attack night before last. All is well... I think she's a little too tough and more than a little too determined to go with us and the kids to the beach rental house she got next week to let a little thing like a heart attack slow her down. She's in St Vincent's near us here and she and her new stent will hopefully be home tomorrow.

In the midst of all that I'm fighting off a head cold and feeling simply craptacular.

Happened to read 2 Chron 20 this morning: "So Jehoshaphat's kingdom was at peace, for his God had given him rest on every side."

Yes, please. Amen.

Don't freak out, mom...

So- I'm at the gym yesterday, doing my normal routine. About 20 minutes on the elliptical, some upper body machines and then 15-20 min in the dry sauna. First thing I noticed when I walked into the sauna was that it seemed a bit hotter than usual. But nobody else seemed to mind, so...

I could only take about 15 minutes and went to hit the shower. Hung up my towel and shorts and started to cool down under the water.

That's when I realized there was a problem... I could tell I was going into shock.

The whole dizziness, tunnel-vision thing- not to mention I felt like I might puke any second. I leaned on the wall under the water and just tried to keep it together. After a few minutes of that, I sat down in the next shower stall over- the one with the bench for the old dudes.

At some point I must have fainted because I woke up on the floor of that shower (got a nice scrape on my head, presumably from hitting the the tile on the way down).

Here's a good tip for you- don't have a heart attack or anything else potentially life threatening at the gym, or at least in the gym shower. No one will notice, much less ask if you need help. I'm assuming that if I had clothes on, there might have been an offer of help, but get in trouble wearing only a towel? Totally on your own, man.

I got back onto the bench and sat there for awhile, yawning uncontrollably, trying not to fall over sideways again.

After I got home and got appropriate sympathy from my spousal unit, the rest of the night was fine.

Well, until the extreme, intense shooting pain in my neck, that is.

Seems I pulled something. Can hardly move my neck. Took one of the muscle relaxers that Dustin gave me (yeah- he's my pusher), and that knocked me out pretty well- but doesn't seemed to have actually done anything for my neck.

Heading to an emergency chiro appointment in an hour, so we'll see what he can do to for me.

At least I have clothes on now.

(I wanted to do some good posting today- don't know if that will happen. Dagnabbit.)

I've been thinking through issues of spiritual formation recently... mainly in terms of how we do whatever it is we do as a community, and the forming impact it has on us. Whatever we do is spiritually forming, isn't it? The choices we make, the activities we pursue or neglect, the words we say and how we say them- all of it goes into making us the persons we are becoming and the community we will be...

So my question (which honestly, I've been thinking about on and off throughout the last four years, thanks in part to both Doug Pagitt and his formerly titled Re-Imagining Spiritual Formation and Brian McLaren who was the first person to to tell me that the way we as a community worshiped was just as spiritually forming as the fact that we did worship) has been: "how do our choices as a community impact the community we are becoming?" And I've started with thinking through our worship gathering, simply because that's the easiest piece to consider and make changes- how does our use (or lack thereof) of silence form us? How does the amount we pray together and what we pray form us? What about the interaction we do and how we do it? Does the way we do "sermons" form us just as much as the content of the discussions themselves?

But this post isn't really about that...

Do you ever get the sense you've Peter Principled yourself out? The Peter Principle says everyone rises to his or her level of incompetence, that is, that when you know how to do a job, you'll be promoted or given additional duties until you reach a place where you no longer know what you are doing... and there you'll stay.

If I had to be perfectly honest, I'd say that's pretty much how I'm feeling right now in just about every area of my life. Pastoring, being a dad, being a husband... interpersonal relationships and general life skills. I feel like any heat I might have had to throw got thrown a good while ago.

It's not as though my life is particularly difficult- I don't have many challenges- considerably fewer than a lot of people. But what I do have tends to stymie me. My own inabilities seem perfectly matched to the challenges I face.

Or more likely, they create them...
And if my particular challenges and created by my particular inabilities... erg.

So I'm praying- Praying that God will help me gain new sensitivities and skills and grow as a husband, a father, a pastor. Probably in that order too.

Sometimes I just hate the fact that it seems like the only way to really learn how to do something is to fail at it.

I haven't exactly been hitting it out of the park lately... spiritually speaking that is.

Kind of in a slump.

I was sitting here praying this morning (after procrastinating, thinking about other things, looking at Apple blogs, etc) when I remembered a tidbit from way back when. While in Bible college I had interviewed one of my professors who was also a pastor. It was for a ministry class, and really, the only thing I remember him saying was his answer to "So what's the secret for success in ministry?"
Without skipping a beat he said simply "Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

So, like I say, sitting here, thinking about that this morning. Truth be told, that little sentence has been running through my head for almost twenty years now...

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

Really? Is that a fair statement to make? Is the whole thing down to me, and my spirituality?
Even if it's not entirely dependent... it MUST play some role, right?

Chris, our associate pastor recently told me one of his favorite staff meeting moments was when we were talking through a nice long chain of things that had gone wrong and I finally just looked at him and Dustin and said, "Alright... which one of you guys is looking at porn?"

Okay- maybe there isn't that strict cause and effect between time spent reading Scripture/praying/steering clear of sin and good things happening... or is there?

Couldn't that just devolve down into a Christian Pastor's version of karma?

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

I guess there are really only three options- it is, it isn't or it is somewhat.
And it probably matters how you define success. For me, success is when I do that which I'm supposed to be doing in ministry- loving people, loving God, helping other people to love God... teaching them well, counseling them wisely, pastoring with integrity.

How could my personal stuff NOT play into that mix?

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

So- what do you think?

Is it true?

Am I screwed?

From June 6th, 2004-
"starting a new blog here...

We had a baby in March... and then planted a church in April. While everything seems to have panned out okay, I'm fairly sure that we'll be looking back on this someday and wondering what the heck we were thinking.

I don't know how it worked: I left (uh... that's a euphemism) my job at the end of December. Amy quit working at the end of February. It seems like we'd be flat broke, be we're not. We actually have more money in the bank than at the end of December. God used a wonderful combination of severance, unemployment, support from others... and who knows what to keep us afloat.

It's been a pretty amazing adventure. Everyone said it would be hard- in fact, a few church planters I spoke with were downright discouraging. But the fact is, it's been okay- even fun. I don't think I've ever enjoyed ministry more. This is what I was made to do."

Good conversation with someone from Evergreen yesterday... the end result being that I'm feeling convicted of my (lately) anemic prayers...

When we first started this evergreen thing, man... I was a prayer ninja. I had to be. We had just bought a house, had a baby on the way, the whole church thing was this tenuous gossamer construct that seemed like if a wind just slightly too strong were to blow on it...

I prayed.

And it's not that I don't pray now, but...

That edge has certainly gone.

The question is, whatever made me think that living prayerfully was any less important now,
four years on? That relationships with my neighbors, with my wife, that praying for those connecting to our community who didn't yet know Jesus, for God's leading for us as a people... that any of that was one iota less urgent or vital than on the day we "launched"???

I'm just as convinced as the day we started: God loves new churches and He even loves four-year-old ones and He wants to use them to be transformative agents in their city- to show what shalom means, what difference Jesus makes, to bring life and forgiveness and the truth of the Gospel to all people everywhere. And as amazed as I am that God would want to use me and our little community in that, I'm even more amazed that when I'm not careful, I can easily get distracted, easily become complacent and too easily lose sight of what I'm/we're really here for.

I am at this very moment, missing our Maundy Thursday gathering.

I had planned on being there- we're actually doing two this year- east side and west side.
But...

Tonight, before, during and after dinner Jack was having a Tasmanian devil, Def-Con 5 Melt Down (which of course brought Janie right up to Def-Con 3 herself). Amy and I spent dinner just staring at each other, thinking the neighbors must have been thinking we were practicing our best torture/waterboarding techniques on these two screaming children...

So I sent Amy to the Maundy Thursday gathering by herself. I didn't want to risk it with the Drama King and his protege'... I'm at the gym, trying to take out a bit of frustration in a semi-constructive way. The kids are in the Kids Club being someone else's problem (and probably being perfect angels).

Simon Webbe on the iPhone is helping a lot.
It irks me to miss this though. I love maundy Thursday- we do a very community-oriented communion with good bread, good wine, good focus on loving each other (as was Jesus's point that last nightsith the disciples before being betrayed) and good conversations with each other. A world away from our somber Good Friday gatherings... I'm bummed that a lot of people skip it... I think it makes Good Friday even more meaningful.

And I'm bummed I'M missing it this year...

So, not to get
a. all dramatic
or
b. all whiny,
but...

Honestly, sometimes the weight of this thing feels like it's going to crush me.

"This thing" being pastoral ministry, "crush" meaning metaphorically weigh me down until I'm a quivering mass of existential angst, and "me" meaning... well, me.

Here's what's getting me down (or maybe "up" would be a more apt word to use here... "up" as in 2:30am) lately. One of the absolute hardest things to come to grips with in my role is the weight people put on my words.

Now, now... Careful there. Bob isn't thinking of Bob as more than Bob ought...

This has more to do with the fact that if someone in our community feels slighted by someone else in our community, they'll generally do one of two things: forgive them/work it out (good) or just give the other person a wide berth (not nearly as good, but still...). When someone in our community feels slighted by me? Well, the options often seem to narrow down to one: leave.

Someone in our community says something dumb about something important? Others generally: laugh, say "hey! That was dumb! Duh!" or just ignore it. When I say something dumb about something important? Two things generally happen: words like "concerns" and "issues" start getting dropped or... people just leave.

I say dumb things all the time. Just ask my wife. I'm so glad every time I do so it doesn't result in a flurry of emails, coffee meetings and someone choosing to leave our family, generally without telling anyone.

I just wish it worked differently on a church level, you know?

So, yeah... my dad didn't show on Friday.

We had a good dinner anyway, with my aunt and uncle, my only other relatives left in California where I grew up, but...

It wasn't just a no-show. It was also a no-call, a no-attempt-to-reschedule, a no-how-about-stopping-by-and-letting-me-meet-my-grandkids...

I suppose a bit more backstory might help.

When Amy and I got married almost 6 years ago, my dad didn't want to come. Said he "wouldn't know anyone." That pretty much tore things for me... I had made efforts with him all through my 20's, but never really saw that reciprocated. So when he didn't want to fly out for our 2002 wedding, I was pretty much done.

I did make another effort, however, when we discovered Jack was on his way. I wrote a Christmas card telling him what was up with me, that we were about to plant a church and he was about to be a grandfather. I let him know I'd be happy to send pictures if he wanted them. I told him all he had to do was write or call and just let me know he'd like that.

Never heard back...

The hard part of this is that as difficult as it was to get to a place where I picked up the phone and let him know we were coming, it was even more difficult to get to a place where I had something redemptive to say to him, something about forgiveness. But I was there.

Now? I don't know... I'm angry, hurt, would rather not think about it, etc.

His health is failing (congestive heart failure) and I seriously doubt he'll be around that much longer. I really don't know how much effort I can/should put into this.
Right now, it's not feeling much, I can tell you.

An interesting confluence of events/themes in my life.

I wrote just about a year ago of some of my struggles in finding a mentor, someone to build into me as I was trying to build into others, and the fact that this thread, this lack wove its way all the way back in my life...  and seemed like it would continue to do so moving forward, for the foreseeable future. I've never felt thwarted by God in any other area, but in this one...

Recently, I met with an older pastor named Morris. He's stepped away from full-time pastoring to focus more on spiritual direction, working mainly with pastors in the CMA denomination, though he makes time for a few non-denominational strays like me.

We met, had a good conversation that I really enjoyed and agreed to meet again.
At our second meeting he listened as I described where I'm at; my fear that I'm going to hit a wall in 8-9 months, my frustration that I've reached a place in life (husbanding, fathering, pastoring) where I simply have no idea what I'm doing, the busyness, tiredness, distractedness... He displayed good empathy, asked appropriate questions and finally said this: "Bob, you know what you need? You need a coach and spiritual director."

Yeah? Really?

He then began to talk about how he'd be happy to help me find such a person, he had some contacts, etc.
My heart was in my throat and all I could think was "Well, of course. What else could he have said? That's the plot, after all."

“A paradox has emerged in this new millennium: people have enhanced quality of life, but at the same time they are adding to their stress levels by taking on more than they have resources to handle. It's as though their eyes were bigger than their stomachs."
- David Allen, Getting Things Done

It's more than likely that you've heard a message, read a book, or done some thinking about "busyness" in the last year or two. Slightly less likely, but still entirely possible that you've heard a message, read a book, or done some thinking on "gluttony" during the same time.

It's highly unlikely that the two were connected, however. And maybe they should have been.

Why do we say yes to so much? Is it because we are guilt-ridden, co-dependent angst monkeys who lack the willpower to say no?
Nah- we say NO to a million things a day. Usually to things that are good for us, but still... When we want to, we know how to say no just fine, thank you.

Is it because we have a drive towards self justification that works itself out in our work and an ever-increasing load of commitments through which we seek to earn the favor of others and God? In part, yes...

But maybe, it also has something to do with our appetites?

You know, our appetites for recognition and "importance." To be liked, appreciated, admired... Even our appetite to "get things done."

And honestly, there's nothing inherently wrong with that. But like all things in this broken world, left unchecked by the Spirit and unsubmitted to God, our appetite to be liked and our desire to achieve will run out of control.

I've been thinking about busyness as though it's a problem to be managed- increase my productivity and I could, of course, accept and keep more commitments, more on my plate... more to feed my ego.

Maybe the problem with busyness isn't it. Maybe it's me. Me and my ego and pride.

Conceived of this way, busyness isn't an issue of time management and productivity, it's an issue of desire. When is enough, enough? When am I doing enough good things through which that God-given desire to feel productive and useful in this world can be fulfilled? When do I cross the line between finding satisfaction in the good day's work I put in and trying to find my identity through an ever-increasing load of ego-enhancing commitments?

Don't get me wrong- I want to continue to work on productivity/time management and all the rest. But until I work through the inner issues of why I try to do so much, all the productivity hacks in the word really just add up to enabling.
In other words, most days I don't need any more help being productive or managing the stress of work. I think I need help in managing my appetite for applause and the stress of opportunity.

I fear my busyness is simply a sign of my gluttony.

Day two without coffee and I'm feeling great.
Sleeping better, less jumpy...

I did get off the freeway at the wrong exit yesterday and do a couple of other duh kinds of things... so maybe my brain is missing the Joe, but basically feeling great.

And the no coffee thing has happened by accident. I just haven't felt the need.

I picked up at Costco (who so generously feed my kids lunch in bite-sized samples every Saturday) a box of Zip Fizz. Little tubes of powder you add to water. Lots of vitamins, about 100mg of caffeine (a tall coffee at SBux has 260 mg, for comparison). But somehow, whereas with coffee I needed the morning cup (and by "cup" I mean big-arse travel mug), another when I got to wherever I going to work that day or from 7-11 along the way... with this, I don't.

Maybe it's the 41,667% of your RDA of vitamin B12? Yeah, you read that right- not a typo.

That's a lot of B12.

You don't metabolize it very well, and probably end up peeing most of it away, but I gotta tell you- one tube in the morning (10 calories, 0 Sugar- just mix with water) has kept me going all day long and without that edgy feeling that too much caffeine gives. No headaches, I've been sleeping better, felt calmer... Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy rhythm? Whoa.

You should check this stuff out:

Time for some self-therapy.

One of my pastoral counseling schticks is that frustration is nearly always a sign of unreasonable expectations, and when you feel frustrated, it's a good thing to examine why, what you were/are expecting and whether or not it's unreasonable to expect that.

So, I'm frustrated. Frustrated with myself for sure and trying hard not to be frustrated with the two tiny people I love most in this whole world.

I'm in one of those phases where my brain has turned off- it's kind of a cycle, really. I begin reading less, thinking less, writing less.. and since each feeds the other, there's this diminishing return type of effect where slowly but surely my brain begins to shut down and turn off...

I don't blog, I don't think, I don't process, and as a result, everything gets backed up. I find myself telling my problems to and processing with those I'm trying to do pastoral counseling with.

And then when I try to turn the whole thing around, I find myself rising earlier and earlier to get some time in before the (seemingly) increasingly early rising times of our beautiful kids.
Never fails.

I'll sit down to read my Bible, spend some time in prayer and- crying (Jack or Janie... not me).
Or I'll actually get in reading/praying/stretching I want to do, and (thinking I'm home free) reach out for a book to read... Touching the book seems to activate a mechanism whereby a tiny electrical shock is transmitted to one of our kids (whichever is on Keep-Dad-From-Thinking-Duty that day) and someone gets up... Our rule is that up until 7am is sleep/in room/quiet time. It rarely seems to work out that way.

I'm not complaining (okay- I am a little)... mainly, I catalog my frustrations to name them and to label them- unreasonable. Unreasonable to expect a 1 1/2 year old and a 3 1/2 year old to conform to vision of the perfect morning, and to do so regularly. Unreasonable to assume that even if I did have all this free-time in the mornings, I would and could actually be the CS Lewisian figure I picture myself being.
Unreasonable to assume that thoughtful creativity can and should come easily.

God forgive me for any expectation of mine that would lead me to view my children waking in the morning as anything but a cause to once again, today, say "Thank You, God!"

If at first you don't succeed...

"Our publishing committee discussed your book proposal today, and unfortunately decided not to acquire it for publication. Everyone on the committee thought the writing was first rate and on an important topic. But at this stage in our development, XXXX XXXX is not well equipped to market books to church leaders, which is obviously the primary market for your book.  I wish we were because I really wanted us to publish your book. But without a good marketing and sales plan in place to reach this market, we would be doing you a disservice by publishing your book and not giving it the marketing and sales support it deserves.

 

I think given the right publisher, you should have no trouble finding a home for your book. The obvious choices are Zondervan, Baker, and InterVarsity, but you might also consider Crossway, Moody, and B&H Publishing. Wherever  your book lands, I fully expect it to do well and for its important message to be well received.

 

Warmly,

XXX XXX"

Erg. Ah, well.. anyone know anyone at Zondervan, Baker, InterVarsity, Crossway, Moody, or B&H Publishing?? :)

Mad world...

This last week has just been... crazy.

Working with a couple through some heavy marital issues, considering renting our place and trying to move to something with a yard (and so looking at more houses than I care to remember), between our two gatherings our biggest Sunday attendance ever (not including that one freak Sunday with the 7 baby dedications and everyone's families showing up), Mom's heart attack...

Yeah- my mom had a heart attack night before last. All is well... I think she's a little too tough and more than a little too determined to go with us and the kids to the beach rental house she got next week to let a little thing like a heart attack slow her down. She's in St Vincent's near us here and she and her new stent will hopefully be home tomorrow.

In the midst of all that I'm fighting off a head cold and feeling simply craptacular.

Happened to read 2 Chron 20 this morning: "So Jehoshaphat's kingdom was at peace, for his God had given him rest on every side."

Yes, please. Amen.

Hey look at me! Or don't...

Don't freak out, mom...

So- I'm at the gym yesterday, doing my normal routine. About 20 minutes on the elliptical, some upper body machines and then 15-20 min in the dry sauna. First thing I noticed when I walked into the sauna was that it seemed a bit hotter than usual. But nobody else seemed to mind, so...

I could only take about 15 minutes and went to hit the shower. Hung up my towel and shorts and started to cool down under the water.

That's when I realized there was a problem... I could tell I was going into shock.

The whole dizziness, tunnel-vision thing- not to mention I felt like I might puke any second. I leaned on the wall under the water and just tried to keep it together. After a few minutes of that, I sat down in the next shower stall over- the one with the bench for the old dudes.

At some point I must have fainted because I woke up on the floor of that shower (got a nice scrape on my head, presumably from hitting the the tile on the way down).

Here's a good tip for you- don't have a heart attack or anything else potentially life threatening at the gym, or at least in the gym shower. No one will notice, much less ask if you need help. I'm assuming that if I had clothes on, there might have been an offer of help, but get in trouble wearing only a towel? Totally on your own, man.

I got back onto the bench and sat there for awhile, yawning uncontrollably, trying not to fall over sideways again.

After I got home and got appropriate sympathy from my spousal unit, the rest of the night was fine.

Well, until the extreme, intense shooting pain in my neck, that is.

Seems I pulled something. Can hardly move my neck. Took one of the muscle relaxers that Dustin gave me (yeah- he's my pusher), and that knocked me out pretty well- but doesn't seemed to have actually done anything for my neck.

Heading to an emergency chiro appointment in an hour, so we'll see what he can do to for me.

At least I have clothes on now.

(I wanted to do some good posting today- don't know if that will happen. Dagnabbit.)

the Spiritual Formation of Leadership Choices...

I've been thinking through issues of spiritual formation recently... mainly in terms of how we do whatever it is we do as a community, and the forming impact it has on us. Whatever we do is spiritually forming, isn't it? The choices we make, the activities we pursue or neglect, the words we say and how we say them- all of it goes into making us the persons we are becoming and the community we will be...

So my question (which honestly, I've been thinking about on and off throughout the last four years, thanks in part to both Doug Pagitt and his formerly titled Re-Imagining Spiritual Formation and Brian McLaren who was the first person to to tell me that the way we as a community worshiped was just as spiritually forming as the fact that we did worship) has been: "how do our choices as a community impact the community we are becoming?" And I've started with thinking through our worship gathering, simply because that's the easiest piece to consider and make changes- how does our use (or lack thereof) of silence form us? How does the amount we pray together and what we pray form us? What about the interaction we do and how we do it? Does the way we do "sermons" form us just as much as the content of the discussions themselves?

But this post isn't really about that...

petering out...

Do you ever get the sense you've Peter Principled yourself out? The Peter Principle says everyone rises to his or her level of incompetence, that is, that when you know how to do a job, you'll be promoted or given additional duties until you reach a place where you no longer know what you are doing... and there you'll stay.

If I had to be perfectly honest, I'd say that's pretty much how I'm feeling right now in just about every area of my life. Pastoring, being a dad, being a husband... interpersonal relationships and general life skills. I feel like any heat I might have had to throw got thrown a good while ago.

It's not as though my life is particularly difficult- I don't have many challenges- considerably fewer than a lot of people. But what I do have tends to stymie me. My own inabilities seem perfectly matched to the challenges I face.

Or more likely, they create them...
And if my particular challenges and created by my particular inabilities... erg.

So I'm praying- Praying that God will help me gain new sensitivities and skills and grow as a husband, a father, a pastor. Probably in that order too.

Sometimes I just hate the fact that it seems like the only way to really learn how to do something is to fail at it.

The secret to success in ministry...

I haven't exactly been hitting it out of the park lately... spiritually speaking that is.

Kind of in a slump.

I was sitting here praying this morning (after procrastinating, thinking about other things, looking at Apple blogs, etc) when I remembered a tidbit from way back when. While in Bible college I had interviewed one of my professors who was also a pastor. It was for a ministry class, and really, the only thing I remember him saying was his answer to "So what's the secret for success in ministry?"
Without skipping a beat he said simply "Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

So, like I say, sitting here, thinking about that this morning. Truth be told, that little sentence has been running through my head for almost twenty years now...

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

Really? Is that a fair statement to make? Is the whole thing down to me, and my spirituality?
Even if it's not entirely dependent... it MUST play some role, right?

Chris, our associate pastor recently told me one of his favorite staff meeting moments was when we were talking through a nice long chain of things that had gone wrong and I finally just looked at him and Dustin and said, "Alright... which one of you guys is looking at porn?"

Okay- maybe there isn't that strict cause and effect between time spent reading Scripture/praying/steering clear of sin and good things happening... or is there?

Couldn't that just devolve down into a Christian Pastor's version of karma?

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

I guess there are really only three options- it is, it isn't or it is somewhat.
And it probably matters how you define success. For me, success is when I do that which I'm supposed to be doing in ministry- loving people, loving God, helping other people to love God... teaching them well, counseling them wisely, pastoring with integrity.

How could my personal stuff NOT play into that mix?

"Success in ministry is entirely dependent on your personal walk with God."

So- what do you think?

Is it true?

Am I screwed?

wayback...

From June 6th, 2004-
"starting a new blog here...

We had a baby in March... and then planted a church in April. While everything seems to have panned out okay, I'm fairly sure that we'll be looking back on this someday and wondering what the heck we were thinking.

I don't know how it worked: I left (uh... that's a euphemism) my job at the end of December. Amy quit working at the end of February. It seems like we'd be flat broke, be we're not. We actually have more money in the bank than at the end of December. God used a wonderful combination of severance, unemployment, support from others... and who knows what to keep us afloat.

It's been a pretty amazing adventure. Everyone said it would be hard- in fact, a few church planters I spoke with were downright discouraging. But the fact is, it's been okay- even fun. I don't think I've ever enjoyed ministry more. This is what I was made to do."

Convicted!

Good conversation with someone from Evergreen yesterday... the end result being that I'm feeling convicted of my (lately) anemic prayers...

When we first started this evergreen thing, man... I was a prayer ninja. I had to be. We had just bought a house, had a baby on the way, the whole church thing was this tenuous gossamer construct that seemed like if a wind just slightly too strong were to blow on it...

I prayed.

And it's not that I don't pray now, but...

That edge has certainly gone.

The question is, whatever made me think that living prayerfully was any less important now,
four years on? That relationships with my neighbors, with my wife, that praying for those connecting to our community who didn't yet know Jesus, for God's leading for us as a people... that any of that was one iota less urgent or vital than on the day we "launched"???

I'm just as convinced as the day we started: God loves new churches and He even loves four-year-old ones and He wants to use them to be transformative agents in their city- to show what shalom means, what difference Jesus makes, to bring life and forgiveness and the truth of the Gospel to all people everywhere. And as amazed as I am that God would want to use me and our little community in that, I'm even more amazed that when I'm not careful, I can easily get distracted, easily become complacent and too easily lose sight of what I'm/we're really here for.

MIA...

I am at this very moment, missing our Maundy Thursday gathering.

I had planned on being there- we're actually doing two this year- east side and west side.
But...

Tonight, before, during and after dinner Jack was having a Tasmanian devil, Def-Con 5 Melt Down (which of course brought Janie right up to Def-Con 3 herself). Amy and I spent dinner just staring at each other, thinking the neighbors must have been thinking we were practicing our best torture/waterboarding techniques on these two screaming children...

So I sent Amy to the Maundy Thursday gathering by herself. I didn't want to risk it with the Drama King and his protege'... I'm at the gym, trying to take out a bit of frustration in a semi-constructive way. The kids are in the Kids Club being someone else's problem (and probably being perfect angels).

Simon Webbe on the iPhone is helping a lot.
It irks me to miss this though. I love maundy Thursday- we do a very community-oriented communion with good bread, good wine, good focus on loving each other (as was Jesus's point that last nightsith the disciples before being betrayed) and good conversations with each other. A world away from our somber Good Friday gatherings... I'm bummed that a lot of people skip it... I think it makes Good Friday even more meaningful.

And I'm bummed I'M missing it this year...

Take a load off, Fannie...

So, not to get
a. all dramatic
or
b. all whiny,
but...

Honestly, sometimes the weight of this thing feels like it's going to crush me.

"This thing" being pastoral ministry, "crush" meaning metaphorically weigh me down until I'm a quivering mass of existential angst, and "me" meaning... well, me.

Here's what's getting me down (or maybe "up" would be a more apt word to use here... "up" as in 2:30am) lately. One of the absolute hardest things to come to grips with in my role is the weight people put on my words.

Now, now... Careful there. Bob isn't thinking of Bob as more than Bob ought...

This has more to do with the fact that if someone in our community feels slighted by someone else in our community, they'll generally do one of two things: forgive them/work it out (good) or just give the other person a wide berth (not nearly as good, but still...). When someone in our community feels slighted by me? Well, the options often seem to narrow down to one: leave.

Someone in our community says something dumb about something important? Others generally: laugh, say "hey! That was dumb! Duh!" or just ignore it. When I say something dumb about something important? Two things generally happen: words like "concerns" and "issues" start getting dropped or... people just leave.

I say dumb things all the time. Just ask my wife. I'm so glad every time I do so it doesn't result in a flurry of emails, coffee meetings and someone choosing to leave our family, generally without telling anyone.

I just wish it worked differently on a church level, you know?

dad recap

So, yeah... my dad didn't show on Friday.

We had a good dinner anyway, with my aunt and uncle, my only other relatives left in California where I grew up, but...

It wasn't just a no-show. It was also a no-call, a no-attempt-to-reschedule, a no-how-about-stopping-by-and-letting-me-meet-my-grandkids...

I suppose a bit more backstory might help.

When Amy and I got married almost 6 years ago, my dad didn't want to come. Said he "wouldn't know anyone." That pretty much tore things for me... I had made efforts with him all through my 20's, but never really saw that reciprocated. So when he didn't want to fly out for our 2002 wedding, I was pretty much done.

I did make another effort, however, when we discovered Jack was on his way. I wrote a Christmas card telling him what was up with me, that we were about to plant a church and he was about to be a grandfather. I let him know I'd be happy to send pictures if he wanted them. I told him all he had to do was write or call and just let me know he'd like that.

Never heard back...

The hard part of this is that as difficult as it was to get to a place where I picked up the phone and let him know we were coming, it was even more difficult to get to a place where I had something redemptive to say to him, something about forgiveness. But I was there.

Now? I don't know... I'm angry, hurt, would rather not think about it, etc.

His health is failing (congestive heart failure) and I seriously doubt he'll be around that much longer. I really don't know how much effort I can/should put into this.
Right now, it's not feeling much, I can tell you.

trust it...

An interesting confluence of events/themes in my life.

I wrote just about a year ago of some of my struggles in finding a mentor, someone to build into me as I was trying to build into others, and the fact that this thread, this lack wove its way all the way back in my life...  and seemed like it would continue to do so moving forward, for the foreseeable future. I've never felt thwarted by God in any other area, but in this one...

Recently, I met with an older pastor named Morris. He's stepped away from full-time pastoring to focus more on spiritual direction, working mainly with pastors in the CMA denomination, though he makes time for a few non-denominational strays like me.

We met, had a good conversation that I really enjoyed and agreed to meet again.
At our second meeting he listened as I described where I'm at; my fear that I'm going to hit a wall in 8-9 months, my frustration that I've reached a place in life (husbanding, fathering, pastoring) where I simply have no idea what I'm doing, the busyness, tiredness, distractedness... He displayed good empathy, asked appropriate questions and finally said this: "Bob, you know what you need? You need a coach and spiritual director."

Yeah? Really?

He then began to talk about how he'd be happy to help me find such a person, he had some contacts, etc.
My heart was in my throat and all I could think was "Well, of course. What else could he have said? That's the plot, after all."

Busyness... or Gluttony?

“A paradox has emerged in this new millennium: people have enhanced quality of life, but at the same time they are adding to their stress levels by taking on more than they have resources to handle. It's as though their eyes were bigger than their stomachs."
- David Allen, Getting Things Done

It's more than likely that you've heard a message, read a book, or done some thinking about "busyness" in the last year or two. Slightly less likely, but still entirely possible that you've heard a message, read a book, or done some thinking on "gluttony" during the same time.

It's highly unlikely that the two were connected, however. And maybe they should have been.

Why do we say yes to so much? Is it because we are guilt-ridden, co-dependent angst monkeys who lack the willpower to say no?
Nah- we say NO to a million things a day. Usually to things that are good for us, but still... When we want to, we know how to say no just fine, thank you.

Is it because we have a drive towards self justification that works itself out in our work and an ever-increasing load of commitments through which we seek to earn the favor of others and God? In part, yes...

But maybe, it also has something to do with our appetites?

You know, our appetites for recognition and "importance." To be liked, appreciated, admired... Even our appetite to "get things done."

And honestly, there's nothing inherently wrong with that. But like all things in this broken world, left unchecked by the Spirit and unsubmitted to God, our appetite to be liked and our desire to achieve will run out of control.

I've been thinking about busyness as though it's a problem to be managed- increase my productivity and I could, of course, accept and keep more commitments, more on my plate... more to feed my ego.

Maybe the problem with busyness isn't it. Maybe it's me. Me and my ego and pride.

Conceived of this way, busyness isn't an issue of time management and productivity, it's an issue of desire. When is enough, enough? When am I doing enough good things through which that God-given desire to feel productive and useful in this world can be fulfilled? When do I cross the line between finding satisfaction in the good day's work I put in and trying to find my identity through an ever-increasing load of ego-enhancing commitments?

Don't get me wrong- I want to continue to work on productivity/time management and all the rest. But until I work through the inner issues of why I try to do so much, all the productivity hacks in the word really just add up to enabling.
In other words, most days I don't need any more help being productive or managing the stress of work. I think I need help in managing my appetite for applause and the stress of opportunity.

I fear my busyness is simply a sign of my gluttony.

Zip-Fizz

Day two without coffee and I'm feeling great.
Sleeping better, less jumpy...

I did get off the freeway at the wrong exit yesterday and do a couple of other duh kinds of things... so maybe my brain is missing the Joe, but basically feeling great.

And the no coffee thing has happened by accident. I just haven't felt the need.

I picked up at Costco (who so generously feed my kids lunch in bite-sized samples every Saturday) a box of Zip Fizz. Little tubes of powder you add to water. Lots of vitamins, about 100mg of caffeine (a tall coffee at SBux has 260 mg, for comparison). But somehow, whereas with coffee I needed the morning cup (and by "cup" I mean big-arse travel mug), another when I got to wherever I going to work that day or from 7-11 along the way... with this, I don't.

Maybe it's the 41,667% of your RDA of vitamin B12? Yeah, you read that right- not a typo.

That's a lot of B12.

You don't metabolize it very well, and probably end up peeing most of it away, but I gotta tell you- one tube in the morning (10 calories, 0 Sugar- just mix with water) has kept me going all day long and without that edgy feeling that too much caffeine gives. No headaches, I've been sleeping better, felt calmer... Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy rhythm? Whoa.

You should check this stuff out:

Frustrated...

Time for some self-therapy.

One of my pastoral counseling schticks is that frustration is nearly always a sign of unreasonable expectations, and when you feel frustrated, it's a good thing to examine why, what you were/are expecting and whether or not it's unreasonable to expect that.

So, I'm frustrated. Frustrated with myself for sure and trying hard not to be frustrated with the two tiny people I love most in this whole world.

I'm in one of those phases where my brain has turned off- it's kind of a cycle, really. I begin reading less, thinking less, writing less.. and since each feeds the other, there's this diminishing return type of effect where slowly but surely my brain begins to shut down and turn off...

I don't blog, I don't think, I don't process, and as a result, everything gets backed up. I find myself telling my problems to and processing with those I'm trying to do pastoral counseling with.

And then when I try to turn the whole thing around, I find myself rising earlier and earlier to get some time in before the (seemingly) increasingly early rising times of our beautiful kids.
Never fails.

I'll sit down to read my Bible, spend some time in prayer and- crying (Jack or Janie... not me).
Or I'll actually get in reading/praying/stretching I want to do, and (thinking I'm home free) reach out for a book to read... Touching the book seems to activate a mechanism whereby a tiny electrical shock is transmitted to one of our kids (whichever is on Keep-Dad-From-Thinking-Duty that day) and someone gets up... Our rule is that up until 7am is sleep/in room/quiet time. It rarely seems to work out that way.

I'm not complaining (okay- I am a little)... mainly, I catalog my frustrations to name them and to label them- unreasonable. Unreasonable to expect a 1 1/2 year old and a 3 1/2 year old to conform to vision of the perfect morning, and to do so regularly. Unreasonable to assume that even if I did have all this free-time in the mornings, I would and could actually be the CS Lewisian figure I picture myself being.
Unreasonable to assume that thoughtful creativity can and should come easily.

God forgive me for any expectation of mine that would lead me to view my children waking in the morning as anything but a cause to once again, today, say "Thank You, God!"