Selling Vacuum Cleaners, Part 2

So how do business people help the church work?

Imagine Joe, the new dairy manager. Right away he notices ice cream production is way down. He reads Ice Cream Monthly and he knows there’s no shortage of ice cream lovers. Joe rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. He increases milk orders by 20% and begins hiring new staff. There’s only one problem. Joe never discussed his ideas with the senior staff.

Three months earlier, the board of directors had voted to discontinue ice cream production. Although the product was popular, the company planned to position itself as the “healthy alternative” by producing soy products instead. The conversion would take place as soon as the last milk contract expired.

While such a scenario is preposterous to the average business person, similar scenes take place in churches. Business people get to work fixing problems which seem obvious without taking the time to understand why the problem exists or what are the ultimate goals of the church. Rather than helping ministerial staff, they undermine and disrupt pastoral leadership.

Why is this result so tragic? Business people who do understand and embrace a church’s goals are golden. They are the ones who put sails on vision. When they remember that God alone provides the wind propulsion for those sails, their skills become catalysts for rather than detractors from a church’s mission. So here’s my version of A Christian Business Leader’s Guide to Making a Sail:

• Seek understanding. Before making an action plan, pray for open mindedness, humility and the courage to release any agenda. Ask questions, tough questions if necessary. But don’t disguise an assault as a question.

• Become a follower even if you don’t understand. Pastors are human like the rest of us. The sting of past betrayals can create some hesitation to explain every decision. If you don’t understand, try following before fixing. Don’t turn off your brain. In fact, you should be more intellectually engaged than ever as you learn by doing. Believers working together clumsily are far more effective than those who evaluate from the sidelines.

• Invest whole-heartedly or not at all. At some point, you will understand enough of the church’s vision to know if you can embrace it or not. If the answer is yes, roll up your sleeves and get to work, but talk as you go. “This is what I understand the goal to be and this is how I propose we address it.” Working with transparency requires a hefty dose of humility. When we communicate our intentions, we open ourselves to correction and criticism. Those who invest half-heartedly are people whom psychologists label passive-resistant. They create division in the church and render her ineffective. The Bible has harsh words for such people. It’s best to move to a congregation you can support whole-heartedly.

These are my guidelines. What are yours?

Selling Vacuum Cleaners, Part 1

The church has a problem. It’s not what you may think. No, I’m not talking about tumbling attendance rates, financial shortfalls, music wars or the staggering number of our adult children walking away from Christ. The real problem, according to many, is that these pastors are just so darn disorganized.

 “What we need,” say some, “is to look at the church like a business. Of course the church isn’t a business,” they’ll mutter under their breath, “but pastors could learn a thing or two from business people.” And it’s true. Business professionals are trained to develop systems that run efficiently and effectively. What church couldn’t benefit from a little more efficiency and effectiveness? Enter the era of the businessman-pastor.

I’ve visited a number of churches that seem to prefer business skills above preaching skills, spiritual disciplines and even theological training. Here’s the problem. Business people have two primary concerns: (1) develop a customer base; and (2) keep the customer base happy. Now developing a customer base should fit in nicely with the church’s mission. After all, if a church is doing its job (making disciples), then the church should grow (increased customer base).  But is the reverse also true? Does church growth mean the church is doing its job?

I could line my cabinets with the church advertisements I receive in the mail. What I find disturbing is the marketing strategy, “Every other church is boring, money-grubbing and unfriendly so come to ours. We’re different. We’re better.” That’s business for you-destroy the competition. Hmmm. Are we helping our cause?

Trouble is, the strategy works. Those dissatisfied with their current churches come seeking greener pastures. Our customer base increases with much greater speed than when we focus our energy on making disciples out of pagans. As one pastor said, “To ask a businessman to strategize in the area of evangelism is like asking him, ‘how do you sell vacuum cleaners to people with dirt floors?’.”

His answer is usually, “You don’t.” His goal is to find people with rugs. When translated to the Christian subculture, “churched” people have rugs, making them a softer market to sell our church.

As the customer base grows, it’s important to keep the customers happy. The businessman pastor must focus his efforts on internal ministries, services and of course the aesthetic preferences of his parishioners. He leads a church of religious consumers.

Most Christians would agree religious consumerism is not the goal. And yet, here we are. Religious consumers are as common as Costco members. Is the solution to keep business people out of ministry decisions? I hope not. As a business woman, I’d like to think I can contribute to my church. So how do business people support the church’s mission? THAT is the subject of my next post.

The Invisibility Principle

Every kid dreams of being invisible. The power of invisibility is the stuff of science fiction and superheroes. Wouldn’t it be great to enter a room without anyone knowing you’re there? Or would it?

As the newcomer in town, I feel a bit like the Invisible (wo)Man. I walk into my children’s schools, the YMCA and yes even my church and I feel invisible sometimes, as though I’m out of phase with the world around me. It’s not that people intentionally shun me. No, it’s more that their patterns are set, relationships formed, and schedules booked. It’s hard to break in.

It seems there’s profound truth in that Cheers ditty, “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name . . .” The thing about being invisible is that I'm the only one aware of the problem. Thus, I'm the only one who can fix the problem. That’s the tough part.

Yet as I wedge my way in, I find I’m really not alone. Other invisible souls gradually enter my view. Though I’m out of phase with the mainstream, I find I’m in phase with others I might not have noticed otherwise. So my invisibility is a gift, an opportunity to cling more tightly to my Savior, who is my comforter and who in turn challenges me to comfort others.

~Joyce

Read with Discernment

Walked into a Christian bookstore last week and noticed Blue Like Jazz (Donald Miller) had a tag sticking out from under it. Never one to pass on a sale, I strolled over to check it out. Instead of a 20% off deal, I found a warning label that said Read with Discernment. It read:

We want you to know that the author may have espoused thoughts, ideas, or concepts that could be considered inconsistent with historical evangelical theology.

I start looking around to see who else got nailed. I notice a few other titles I’d definitely consider “inconsistent with historical evangelical theology.” Funny thing though, none of these books sport a Read with Discernment sticker.

Now I’ve read Miller’s book and have to admit he’s not a precise theologian. His expressions are raw, which I concede might warrant a caution to readers accustomed to sanitized language. But I have to wonder – what is it that people find offensive about this book, really?

I don’t always agree with Miller’s conclusions or the ways he tries to flesh out his faith, but there’s one characteristic of this book that I can’t overlook. Miller writes with transparency and an attitude of repentance. The book is not instructional, but rather introspective. He draws us into a world of thought and emotion, not so foreign as many of us would like to pretend. As he lets us into his private musings, we see both the ugliness of the human condition and the enormity of God’s mercy. Perhaps, this reality is what some find offensive. Maybe the problem is not so much theology but that unpleasant issue of repentance.

After all, isn’t repentance what offended the Pharisees? They attacked Jesus for his failure to embrace their rules and traditions. His response was to forgive prostitutes and tax collectors. The Pharisees fought back with a murder plot.

People don’t like others telling them they’re wrong. But they really hate it when those they’ve condemned find restoration. We find such security in superiority. In the end, I guess we should read everything, including warning labels, with discernment.

~John

The Adventure Continues

Today, we celebrate our one month anniversary in RDU, as many call it. We decided to rent a townhome in Morrisville until we feel confident the schools will work out for our children. Question: How do you fit furniture from a 2400 SF, two car garage single-family home into a 1700 SF, no garage townhome? Answer: When you figure out how to fit a gallon of milk into a quart jug, be sure to let us know. Until then, the answer is storage. At least, we didn’t have to unpack all our boxes.

We love North Carolina, but the move was a little more bumpy than expected. Our plan was to rent a furnished place until we saw the price tag. Yikes! We decided we could pay movers to pack and move our furniture again with the money we’ll save from one month’s rent! We moved into our unfurnished townhouse on August 8. On August 13, we learned our furniture was still in Seattle do to a snafu in scheduling. After several more delays and too many nights on air mattresses, our crates were finally delivered on August 28, just in time for the muggiest day since our arrival in town.

John is working hard to establish our business, Team Momentum, in the Raleigh Durham area. So here’s the honest truth – moving is tough. Finding a dentist, a good hair stylist and my way around the grocery store leaves me a little cranky at the end of the day. Have you moved lately? How did you smooth the transition? I’d love to hear!

~Joyce

Wallace Family Hits the Road, Parts 3-5

Finally. I'm posting the conclusion to our cross country trip (two months after the fact) for those who wanted to know. We'll get caught up soon.

Wallaces Do Whitewater?!

Call it a midlife crisis. I was looking for boat rides, nice scenic boat rides when it hit me. I’m not that old yet. I’m not ready to retire to Jungle Cruise status. Let’s go whitewater rafting. So in a moment of unbridled optimism, I made the reservation. The four of us would go rafting down the Colorado River through Arches National Park near Moab, Utah. Not the half-day trip. Nope. We want the full day adventure. Non-refundable . . . we know what that means.

As it turns out, this gamble paid off. We had the time of our lives. Samuel even swam in the 55 degree water. The scenery was breathtaking and the high water level meant we didn’t even have to paddle that hard. Samuel’s ready to make whitewater an annual tradition. We’ll see about that…

The Midwest

We headed for Denver where we celebrated the 4th of July with a day at Water World. “Didn’t you see the warning sign about whiplash?” John asked as I got off the Zoomerang with Hannah.

“What sign?” I answered trying to calm the muscle spasms seizing my neck. Who knew? The ride looked pretty harmless. I decided to watch televised fireworks from a horizontal position while John and the kids enjoyed the live version.

Next, we drove onto Kansas City where we experienced barbecue!! I do mean experienced. The aroma from the smoke drenched building spilled into the parking lot drawing us like ants to a slice of pie. During our tortuous wait for a table, we salivated as plates loaded with steaming piles of beef whisked past. I closed my eyes to enjoy the feast of smells while my stomach moaned, Oh, Seattle you were a desert wasteland when it came to barbecue but relief is two parties of four away!

Our waiter recommended burnt ends. The name and the description didn’t sound particularly appealing but when in Rome . . . What a taste sensation! Add the smoky hickory pit baked beans and my bliss was complete. John and I declared a new life statute. “Thou shalt not enter Kansas City unless thou feasteth on burnt ends.”

The kids enjoyed the day at Worlds of Fun amusement park and we loved the beautiful fountains. But for me, it was all about the beef.

Continuing eastward, we hit St. Louis where we toured the Gateway Arch and the St. Louis Zoo . I’ve never seen penguins so close. We capped off a wonderful day by visiting the Iron Barley. If you’re a fan of “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives”, you may have seen the Schnitzel & Spaetzle episode. No joke, the Schnitzel is to die for. We’re with Guy on this place. A big thumbs up!

Roots

From St. Louis, we headed for my old stomping grounds in Nashville. We toured the campus of my alma mater, Vanderbilt University, where my kids asked, “Why don’t you remember your way around Mom?” Something about twenty years and numerous new buildings left me a little befuddled. Nonetheless, we enjoyed the scenery and a trip to the Grand Ole Opry before heading to Atlanta.

It was the trip of a lifetime but good to finally unpack our van for a week.

Wallace Family Hits the Road, Part 2

Behold the Waffle Iron

Our plan was to hit Grand Coulee Dam on Wednesday, but our late departure called for a schedule revision. We had non-refundable hotel reservations in West Yellowstone and motivated by our mutual cheapness, John and I decided to make the long haul eastward. We lost an hour to Mountain Time and several hours to rest stops and running last minute errands in Spokane, as it was the last major city for days. We collapsed into our hotel room around midnight; sure we’d lost our minds for driving that far.

The next day everyone’s disposition changed, however. For it was the first day of Carbon’s Golden Malted waffles. If you’ve not road-tripped in a while, you’re probably unaware that some sales genius hit every family style motel in the country with a killer dealer on a do-it-yourself commercial waffle maker. Now hotel proprietors can boast an expanded hot continental breakfast. Throw in some hard-boiled eggs and you’ve got yourself a full American breakfast. Samuel quickly became the resident waffle-making expert. Within days, he was teaching puzzled vacationers the secret to a perfect waffle.

Did I mention Yellowstone is absolutely beautiful? We toured geysers, mud pots and waterfalls. We saw bison, deer, bald eagles, a bear, even a baby moose and his mother. Enjoy the pictures below.

Wallace Family Hits the Road

Note: As of July 15, we are spending time with family in Atlanta but here are some highlights of the last month.

Getting Out of Dodge

Could it be true? We closed on our house, no hitches. God is good.

OK, we did hit one bump – packing. We bought the sales pitch - hook, line and sinker. Don’t rent a moving van. Try the convenient portable storage container approach. Here’s how it works. Some guy drops five (Five! Surely we won’t need that many. . .) storage containers on your driveway. For the next four days, you pack all your earthly possessions into the five (How on earth did we think we could fit all our stuff into five boxes!?) plywood crates. Now there are a couple of rules to keep in mind. No container can hold more than 2,000 pounds. Question: How many boxes of books constitute a ton of books? Answer: Far fewer than will actually fit into the storage container. . .bummer, guess we can’t put the kitchen table in that empty spot after all.

When packing, it’s important to remember that a truck/forklift driver with no particular attachment to Grandma’s china will lift the crate onto a flatbed truck, drive it to a storage facility, tuck it away onto some storage shelf three stories in the air, forklift it back onto a flatbed truck and then drive it 3,000 miles to another storage facility and . . .you get the picture. Needless to say, packing to prevent load shift is critical. Of course, I became far less concerned about our grill knocking into the television about 1 AM on our final night of packing. Thankfully, John persevered and strapped, cushioned and padded the final crate to withstand any kamikaze truck driver (we hope).

The next morning I realized I had inadvertently packed Samuel’s retainer. Where? In the very first box that went into the perfectly strapped, cushioned and padded crate, the one with bicycle tires jimmied to wire shelving bungeed to the grill which shielded the vacuum cleaner. We decided to make an orthodontist appointment when we got to North Carolina.

While waiting for the moving truck, we discovered several items we forgot to pack causing John to scrounge for space in the only two crates not pushing the weight limit. It’s probably best I had to make an emergency visit to the dentist for a tooth that really needs a root canal (we did a temporary fix) so I can continue to live in blissful ignorance regarding our wonderful packing job.

We had to call charity to take away several items we couldn’t fit, make a run to FedEx to mail the stuff we need but missed until the final sweep and beg our neighbors to take the remaining items, including our overflowing garbage. Never in our wildest dreams did we think it would be a problem to vacate our home by 9 PM. We pulled out of our driveway at 8:50 (a full ten minutes to spare).

Exhausted from the previous evening (three hours of sleep on the floor), we did well to drive to Ellensburg (about 90 miles east) where we crashed at the first hotel off the freeway. What a way to start a vacation!

FATHERHOOD: Can Men Live Up to the Image?

“A man of steel and velvet,” author-poet Carl Sandburg used these words to describe Abraham Lincoln. The phrase became for many a metaphor for the ideal male persona, the perfect combination of strength and tenderness to which men must aspire. Stu Weber expounded the vision in his groundbreaking book, Tender Warrior (1993). Weber defined “four pillars of a man’s heart,” identifying leadership, protectiveness, mentorship, and friendship as the essential masculine qualities. The last decade produced a flood of books, some calling men to a selfless cause, others highlighting their inadequacies, and still others deploring the buffoonish male stereotypes portrayed increasingly in the media. While the literature has been helpful, it has tended to raise the standard and guys are feeling the pressure. Can men live up to the image?

Complicating the challenge facing men are the apparent shifting expectations of fathers in our society. “After years of trying to domesticate me, now they’re telling me I need to rediscover my ‘wild heart’,” said one father in frustration. Having bought the vision of sacrificing his lust for adventure for the sake of responsible fatherhood, he was now being warned that his sons might rebel against his mild-tempered example. He’s asking a fair question, “Does my eleven year old really long for the father who will jump in a canoe and brave the Snake River Canyon with him or is this just my excuse to be reckless?”

When it comes to parenting, some men feel like they’re giving all they can and fear it’s not enough. “My dad was never expected to be my playmate,” said one father. “If he was a good provider and a disciplinarian then it was enough.” Today’s father is expected to be provider, teacher, coach, and friend. Balancing these roles can be stressful. If a dad passes up career opportunities in order to attend his daughter’s gymnastics classes, he has to live with the fact that he’s giving up resources that could benefit the whole family. These are not easy choices.

Is there any relief to the stress fathers are feeling? Perhaps one solution lies in helping men to deal with the bitterness they have felt toward their own fathers. Now that some have experienced the pressures of fatherhood firsthand, perhaps they’ll be ready to forgive their own fathers for not doing it perfectly. After they’ve let their own dads off the hook, maybe they’ll be in a better position to set realistic expectations for themselves.

In the end, fatherhood is about being a role model. Despite mistakes and struggles to keep up, whether we live selfless or self-indulgent lives will be evident to our children.

What kind of life do your children see? Do you care more about “getting it right” than you do about modeling honesty and humility?

© 2004, John Wallace

Selling Our House - The Rest of the Story

Apparently my abulia has left me a little behind in my posts. So here’s the rest of the story.

At the end of April, we declared our house “good enough to sell,” despite numerous noble intentions left unaddressed. We listed our home and prepared for a long and grueling process given the current market conditions.

To our shock, we received a full price offer within three days (didn’t mention that detail in my last post-I was still waiting for the catch). All along, we’ve prayed for clarity, begging God to reveal Himself in a way that would cause us to declare, “Only God could do that.”

As I look at the sold sign in front of our home, I can’t help but conclude, “God did that!”

We are scheduled to close on June 25, if all goes as planned. The only contingency left is financing, which is not a slam-dunk in today’s market, so we would covet your prayers this week.

God’s mercy never ceases to amaze us. As it stands now, our family will relocate to Raleigh, North Carolina this summer. More details to come. We’re both excited and overwhelmed at the moment (deer in the headlights). If anyone has any Raleigh-Durham insights, do share!

The Tyranny of Fear

In 1967, Charles Hummel wrote his classic, The Tyranny of the Urgent. He describes our tendency to forgo the important matters in life in favor of those that scream the loudest at the moment.

Recently I’ve experienced another type of tyranny – fear. One of this week’s “Word of the Day” entries from www.dictionary.com was abulia. Abulia is the loss or impairment of the ability to act or to make decisions. This week’s fear has given me a good dose of abulia.

You see five days ago, we placed our house on the market, the same housing market that's in its worse slump in US history. The same market that has left houses sitting in my once “hot” neighborhood, unwanted, even after numerous price drops.

“Why now?” you might ask. Good question. Doesn’t seem like the sane thing to do. All I can say is that we felt is was the right thing to do. After much prayer, many tears and sleepless nights, we concluded that now is the best time for our family to move. I don’t know if we heard God correctly. Hence, my fear . . . . But I do know that God directs a moving ship (James 1:6). So we’ve taken a step. We’ll see what happens with our home sale.

Back to fear. In the five days our house has been subjected to public scrutiny, I’ve battled mind-numbing terror. What if I forgot to close the closet doors? What if I left the toothpaste out? What if they hate the color scheme? What if our house has something wrong with it? What if we didn’t fill out our seller disclosure statement correctly? What if it doesn’t sell? The ‘what if’ questions knot up my stomach and cloud my mind, leaving me with abulia.

Perhaps it’s a test of character, a test of faith, or an opportunity for God to show mercy on us. I don’t know. I do know that my fear is not from him (2 Timothy 1:7), so I must battle it in prayer. We’ll see what happens . . .

~Joyce

Seattle Blues

Seattle is in a bad mood. Yup, everywhere I go people are gruff, “nice spring we’re having, huh? grumble, grumble . . .” Maybe it was the rain, snow, sleet and hail that besieged us last Thursday and Friday . . .and Saturday . . .and Sunday. Maybe the lack of sunshine for the last eight months is finally taking its toll. Maybe it’s the fear of looming floods once the record snow pack begins to melt.

I must admit, I’m tired of feeling cold. I’ve had it with $300+ heating bills, muddy shoes and dirty cars. Where is my spring? My latest poll indicates the majority predict sunshine by July. Ugh!

Life is like that sometimes. The rain keeps falling, with no end in sight. On some level, we believe our situation will change, eventually. But we wonder if we’ll last that long. We may struggle to get out of bed and face yet another cold, gray day.

Funny thing happened today. I noticed some buds on my rhododendrons. No, they’re not quite ready to adorn my yard. But in this once dead-looking bush, I see signs of life. Perhaps, spring will show up before July after all.

Ultimately, life is about perseverance. Those of us who place our hope in Jesus Christ know we aren’t home yet. This earth will never offer complete contentment, absence of frustration or freedom from pain. Along the way however, God provides moments of bliss. Against the backdrop of our struggles emerges the beauty of his loving intervention.

Albert Einstein said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” I choose the latter. I trust the sun rose even if I can’t see it behind the clouds. So I’ll arise and wait for the buds to bloom. I hope you find a moment of bliss today.

~Joyce

Blogging Fast

Due to personal and family commitments, we will go on a brief "blogging fast" in April. Check back on April 22 for our next post. Thanks!

Well-Rounded Mediocrity

Next year my son starts middle school. We just received a brochure explaining all the electives offered at his new school. Foreign language, band, orchestra . . .he can even take model rocketry.

At the bottom of the page I noticed a little disclaimer that just might erase my son’s dreams of mastering the viola. It seems that kids who fail to test at grade level on the reading portion of the WASL (Washington’s Assessment Tool) must take a reading enrichment course as their elective. Apparently, only scholars are allowed to be artists.

For years, parents urged the schools to get back to the fundamentals of reading, writing, and arithmetic. I’m sure the schools would argue they are responding to both the parents’ pleas and the No Child Left Behind mandate. I think what we have here is a failure to communicate.

Yes, I want my child to be a better reader. But why can’t he become a better reader in his language arts class (that he’ll take in addition to the reading enrichment class)? If we’re going to “enrich” slower readers, why not also corral the kids who don’t pass the math or writing sections? I guess you don’t need to know your times tables before you learn to count in Spanish.

In How Full Is Your Bucket?, by Tom Rath, he explains how the North Koreans broke their prisoners during the Korean War. Rath says, “the tactic of withholding all positive emotional support while inundating soldiers with negative emotions was perhaps bucket dipping [the term Rath uses for inflicting emotional/psychological injury] in its purest and most malicious form.” While this case is undoubtedly extreme, negativity in the workplace causes lost productivity, employee turnover, absences and increased unethical behaviors.

So back to the viola. Certainly, I want my child to learn the fundamentals. But I also want him to learn to love the arts, sports or whatever non-academic interest allows him to experience life to the fullest. How will he ever have the opportunity to flourish in other areas if he’s constantly held hostage by a federal standard meant to assess the effectiveness of schools?

What’s the point of this ramble? Why don’t we learn to celebrate people’s strengths rather than throwing all our energy into fixing their weaknesses? When we will instead start helping the weak and free them to make their own valuable contribution to the world we share?

Courage or Recklessness?

Do you recall a person in your life whose constant attitude was, “I’ve already made up my mind; don’t confuse me with the facts”? Most of us have made a few bad decisions for lack of information. But have you ever become so committed to a course of action that you intentionally closed your mind to information that might persuade you against it? Perhaps it was the time you chose not to check a car’s reliability ratings because you really wanted the car. Or perhaps it was the time you avoided asking a sensitive question during a job interview. Sometimes it’s easier to assume now and to complain later when you find out you were wrong rather that to face reality up front.

Courage is not recklessness. Courage does not spawn momentum by ignoring potential pitfalls or obstacles. Courage welcomes information, especially the kind that might impact the direction or timing of a decision. Yet courage does not get stuck in “the paralysis of analysis.” You can never know enough to eliminate every danger; only God knows the future. So choose to move forward in spite of well-understood risks. Courage embraces reality with all its hazards, “eyes wide open”.

~John

It’s not fair!

Today, I opened the Bible to Matthew 20 and read the Parable of the Vineyard Workers. Here’s the synopsis. A landowner hires a group of workers in the morning, a second group three hours later, and a third group two hours after that. At the end of the day, he pays the last group first, then the second group and finally the early birds. Every group is paid the same amount. The early birds cry foul, even though they were paid the wage they were promised.

What’s the lesson here? “The last will be first, and the first will be last.” Just in case these words were a little too cryptic, Jesus spelled it out for religious leaders in chapter 21, “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering into the kingdom of God ahead of you.”

On the surface level I get it. God’s reach extends beyond the inner circle of “good Jews.” Gentiles and backslidden Jews are offered a place at God’s table, as well. When I allow myself to mull over the story, however, I have to admit I’m a lot like the early birds who cry foul. I mean if the landowner wanted to be generous, fine. But couldn’t he have paid the late group last, after the early birds were paid and merrily on their way home? Why did he have to rub it in the faces of those who worked all day?

So here’s my confession. I have a hard time (okay, I have to fend off gale force storms of jealousy) with late bloomers – the ones who lived wild, self-indulgent lives. They retired at fifty, did a little life assessment and decided to follow Christ in the second half of their lives. Now they’re best selling authors, nationally known speakers and respected authorities on spiritual matters. As one who has known Christ since age 16, I often feel like the early birds. “It’s not fair!” Yes, I know my response is wrong. Yes, I know I should celebrate when lost sheep return home. Perhaps, that’s why my gut response disturbs me so much.

I think I know what the problem is. I’m not upset that God saved and uses the late bloomers. In fact, I really do rejoice with them. I’m upset that I didn’t get to sin as much. My issue is that I didn’t get to be greedy, selfish and materialistic (at least not guilt-free) and still considered “spiritually mature.” And that’s the ugly truth. That’s why “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering into the kingdom of God ahead of you.” They understood sin for what it was – evil. So I am the one who needs cleansing. Perhaps, it’s fair after all.

~Joyce

Selfish Jerk or Focused Contributor?

Our desire for approval can cripple us. If you care about people, you want to meet their needs. But life is busy. Sacrificial service disintegrates into good intentions. Out of sheer survival, you become calloused to the needs of others. You’re ashamed of your indifference but overwhelmed by the level of adversity around you. When you finally roll up your sleeves, you feel you can’t do enough. Frustrated, you wonder, “Will I ever make a difference?”

During an interview on the television program 20/20, host John Stossel grilled Texas billionaire Dan Duncan, regarding charitable contributions.

Stossel: “You’ve given a lot to charity, but really you gave only 2% of your net worth. That sounds cheap.”

Duncan: “If that was all that I ever wanted to give away, I would agree 100%, [but] if you're one of the gifted people that can actually make more money, people receiving it are better off if you keep it to get a lot more later on."

Duncan perceives his ability to make money as a gift that ultimately benefits others. His corporation, Enterprise Products, does generate a huge amount of wealth for Duncan to give away. Whether cancer research (Duncan’s charity) profits more from a lump sum or a steady stream of cash is a subject for debate, but Duncan clearly believes he is a greater asset to the world when he operates from his strengths.

Undoubtedly, we have the most impact when we embrace God’s design for our lives. But the short term thinkers always seem to have better plans for our time. They belittle our progress because they don’t understand our goals. How do you stay on course without ignoring the needs of others?

The Cost of Trivial Excellence

Once there was a man who set out to get rich so that he could afford all the things his heart desired. He hung pictures of expensive cars and boats, luxurious homes, exotic vacation resorts, and the latest entertainment technology on his wall. He believed that these pictures would motivate him to work hard for the things that he wanted. He devised strategies to meet persons of means and influence, to impress them, and to earn their trust. He believed that these people would provide him with opportunities to make money.

So the man worked very hard, met all the “right” people, and eventually became very rich. Then he discovered that the amount of work required to maintain the lifestyle he had built left him with little time to enjoy that things he had accumulated or the people he had so impressed. He found himself very lonely. He eased the pain of his loneliness by turning with even greater intensity toward the thing he had learned to be good at, making money. His life grew increasingly complex. More money required more work, added stress, and even greater isolation. He was left with no time to love or to be loved.

Is your life filled up with busyness in the pursuit of things that lacks eternal value? Do you keep doing something you’re good at just because you’re good at it? Do you avoid things that are more important because you’re not good at them? It takes great courage to evaluate the value of what you do. Purging your life of trivial busyness can be as challenging as overcoming an addiction.

What kinds of pictures do you hang on your walls? These are the same images that hang on the “walls” of your mind and heart. They are the things that drive you; they are the things that you love. It has been said that one kind of person loves people and uses things; another kind of person loves things and uses people. Do you find yourself being inauthentic with people in order to get what you want from them? If so, than which kind of person are you?

~John

Fear and Love

I just finished reading Lifesigns, by Henri Nouwen. Though written in the 1980’s, I found his message timely for 2008. He says we are driven by fear or love. The two cannot coexist. “Fearful questions never lead to love-filled answers,” Nouwen claims.

I often think of love as the opposing force to hatred or apathy, but seldom have I considered love the alternative to fear. Yet how often does sheer survival hinder my relationships? It seems innocent enough. “If I call her, she might need something and I really don’t have time right now.”

“You volunteer once or twice, and then it never ends.”

“If I praise him for pulling up his grades, he’ll think B’s are good enough.”

Fear – of a runaway schedule, unyielding demands, or underachievement – stops love in its tracks. Though I want to extend my arms, fear suppresses my desire.

I’m thankful the God of love is stronger than my fears. By his grace, he nudges me along, to choose compassion over isolation, generosity over selfishness, encouragement over criticism . . . love over fear. What fearful questions are you asking today? How is God challenging you to ask different questions?

~Joyce

The Quiet Voice of God

I plopped down at my desk. Staring back at me was the Bible I hadn’t cracked in several days. Next to it was yesterday’s “to do” list with less than half the tasks crossed off. Lingering in the background was a darkened computer screen loaded with fresh emails which, with the faintest touch of the mouse, would steal the spotlight from the gold-edged pages waiting for today’s verdict. What a poignant picture of my life right now, I thought.

“Read your Bible first,” the Spirit inside me whispered.

“But I have so much to do,” my flesh argued back. The knot in my stomach twisted and tightened as I pondered this week's demands. “If I can just get through my list, then I’ll have time to focus on my Bible reading and give God the attention he deserves,” I reasoned, knowing full well how that strategy had panned out yesterday.

The gentle whisper answered back, “In whom are you depending?”

Guilty. My reluctance to open God’s Word betrayed my distorted view of God and myself, for that matter. Today, I saw no power in Scripture, just a duty to read it. Through the years, I’ve learned to follow that sense of duty when it’s all I can muster.

I opened to 2 Samuel. “Drat, I lost the flow by skipping several days,” the excuses started to flow. “Was Abishai a priest or Joab’s brother? Now I have to look up all the names again.” In time, the frustration dissipated and God began to speak to me through his Word. In today’s passage, revenge’s stench was strong, but mercy’s beauty proved more powerful. My heart and mind were transported from the broken freezer and the Open House guest list to the company of my Creator, who knows my daily anxieties but wants to offer me more than a rescue. He wants to elevate my heart, soul and mind to a place where my daily worries are small when compared to the greatness of the Father who loves me.

An Honest Confession from a Hurried Mom

I picked up my purse and said to the kids, “Come on; let’s get in the van.” It was as though I’d fired the gun for the 100 meter sprint.

Both kids grabbed their shoes (to put on in the car) and said to each other, “Hurry, hurry, we’re late.”

For once, I wasn’t running late or short on time, but their programmed response revealed more that I cared to know. My frantic pace was reproducing itself before my eyes in the lives of my two children. I hadn’t intended to stress out my children, but I couldn’t deny it. My chaos had become theirs.

Other parents had warned me that I’d begin to see my own bad habits show up in my kids. I was prepared for a child with a stubborn streak, or a shortage of patience, one who was a little too bossy or independent. In fact, I’d probably laugh off those shortcomings in the same way I’d learned to dismiss them in myself. But this scene was uglier than I’d expected. I saw my children having ulcers by age ten. I knew I had to change my ways, for their sake as well as mine