I've recently restarted exercising for the first time in years. And while running (a very short distance) this morning several thoughts occurred to me about the similarities between leadership and exercise, more specifically running (but I think they apply to other exercise as well).
Wise runners know that you must prepare for the exercise. Once I got past about 25 years old, I realized I had to start stretching before I ran or I wouldn't be able to run as far, and I would pay for it later. I can't just jump in and start doing but must get ready first. Good leaders also recognize that sufficient preparation enables people and projects to go further and lessen the negative repercussions later.
Wise runners know that you build endurance. When I started running three weeks ago, I didn't run a marathon. Shoot, I didn't even run a mile that first day! Now I'm up to about 2.5 miles, but it's been a slow endurance-building process. Similarly, good leaders recognize that almost anything worth doing, and requiring leadership, takes endurance. You don't ask family members, or new employees, or friends, to run a marathon right out of the gate. You let them get used to an idea, and to doing bits of the work required, before asking them to go 26.2.
This point bears elaboration. So much of our society focuses on people "hitting the ground running" as though there were no learning curve. There is always a learning curve: even if I've done the same task 100 times in other places, or with other people, or at a different time, something is guaranteed to be different when I do it again. New technology, new or changed personalities, my own life experiences, all these things make the way I approach a task different. So instead of using the phrase "hit the ground running" maybe we need to change our terminology to recognize that there will always be a ramp-up time. I think it's fine to delineate which elements are most important to have coming in, but people need to know there is space, and grace, to learn as well. Running is the same way: I need technique, equipment, endurance, speed, strength ... and I need to know which of those are the most important to start exercising.
Wise runners know that you must push yourself beyond what you think you can do. Already I've had many days where I think, "I can't run any further, I'm tired." It probably doesn't help that my runs start by going uphill! But I've set low enough goals for myself here at the beginning that I can encourage myself through the mental barrier. And once I did that a couple of times, now I know I can push myself just a little more. And it doesn't hurt that I know my return run will be downhill! Good leaders also know that people are typically able to do more than they have done before but may just need a little encouragement (the "push"). Good leaders provide the opportunity for people to do something new, or something old in a new way, and empower people by affirming the skills and abilities they have to bring to bear on the task.
Wise runners know that the finish line is never the last finish line. Each day I am glad to get back home, but I know the next day there is another run ahead of me. I enjoy the satisfaction of finishing the day's run but I don't stop there or I lose everything I just worked to gain. Similarly, good leaders help people to celebrate crossing the finish line but also set the stage for the next time. Lessons learned sessions, project debriefings, exit interviews, or the like, help people process what they went through, what they learned and how they can use it in their ongoing lives. This also shows a commitment not just to the task but also to the people, affirming their value as people.
Showing posts with label following. Show all posts
Showing posts with label following. Show all posts
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Weakness and Community
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about weakness and leadership. We all have weaknesses as individuals, even the best leaders -- though some of the less self-aware of us won't admit it and may not know what those weaknesses are.
It seems to me that the remedy for lack of self-awareness is community. I suppose I can sit and reflect on my own strengths and weaknesses and figure some of it out, but to really see myself truly I need the reflection I can only get from the mirror of community.
As a simple example, think about a performance review for a job. I've received and given many, and I am always struck by the interaction of reviewer and reviewee. In good reviews, there is trust on both sides and willingness to listen and to speak by both parties. This is community: the ability on the one side to speak into someone else's life a truth that may be unrecognized or unwelcome, and the willingness on the other side to hear what is being said and to ingest it, to see whether it rings as true, why or why not, and what if anything I need to do about it.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when King David has been beaten in a battle and, as his army is walking past a hill, a man named Shimei calls out curses on him. (Not the best method or timing for a performance review, you might say.) David's men want to go kill Shimei, but David says, "No, let him speak. It may be that he is speaking God's will to me." Wow. In the depth of despair, David has the willingness not just to listen to someone he respects, who he knows loves him, but even to listen to one who hates him and calls out curses upon him.
It is only when we have this attitude, when we are willing to listen to others in community, that we really come to know our weaknesses and how we should compensate for them. And then we must take those steps, the first of which is generally to have someone near us who is strong where we are weak, and we must let them operate in that strength.
It seems to me that the remedy for lack of self-awareness is community. I suppose I can sit and reflect on my own strengths and weaknesses and figure some of it out, but to really see myself truly I need the reflection I can only get from the mirror of community.
As a simple example, think about a performance review for a job. I've received and given many, and I am always struck by the interaction of reviewer and reviewee. In good reviews, there is trust on both sides and willingness to listen and to speak by both parties. This is community: the ability on the one side to speak into someone else's life a truth that may be unrecognized or unwelcome, and the willingness on the other side to hear what is being said and to ingest it, to see whether it rings as true, why or why not, and what if anything I need to do about it.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when King David has been beaten in a battle and, as his army is walking past a hill, a man named Shimei calls out curses on him. (Not the best method or timing for a performance review, you might say.) David's men want to go kill Shimei, but David says, "No, let him speak. It may be that he is speaking God's will to me." Wow. In the depth of despair, David has the willingness not just to listen to someone he respects, who he knows loves him, but even to listen to one who hates him and calls out curses upon him.
It is only when we have this attitude, when we are willing to listen to others in community, that we really come to know our weaknesses and how we should compensate for them. And then we must take those steps, the first of which is generally to have someone near us who is strong where we are weak, and we must let them operate in that strength.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Friends and Politics
I spent my five days in Colorado with my best college buddy Jim, and we also spent two days with another college friend Kellee. Without knowing it, I've learned a lot about leadership from both of them.
In college I was two years ahead of both of them. Based on personality and age, early on I was more often the leader in my friendship with Jim. Over the years (exactly half my life I've known him now!) our relationship has morphed in many ways. We lived thousands of miles away for two years when I moved back to Portland after college; then when he graduated we were apartment-mates for a year before Rose and I married; then we were an hour apart for the next three years when I still lived in Michigan; then three years I was in Philly; and now nine years I've been in Portland.
We've shown over time how a relationship can ebb and flow and change with distance, life stage, and technology. (When I was in Portland he in Chicago or Rochester, MN, we used to write 8-page handwritten letters about once a week!) We were each the best man in the other's wedding and have experienced the joy and pain, excitement and sometime frustration of being married to women who are so different from us. Our firstborn kids were born about a week apart ... but his was very premature and ended up passing. Zephaniah's birthday is always tinged with a bit of sadness for me for that reason.
Now we have this tradition of being together for the NCAA Tournament. We've always talked about family, jobs, churches, what we're reading, new and old friends, and many other topics. But this year, for the first time I can remember, we talked politics quite a bit, too. And it was enlightening.
Through the Facebook posts and links we choose, we've learned that we are at very different places politically. I tend to lean fairly heavily Democratic while he is holds pretty strong Republican views. While I think he's made some mistakes, I still think the world of Obama; Jim is a strong supporter of Sarah Palin.
To be honest, I was a little concerned to broach the political topic during our time. I know it can be a hot button for a lot of people. And, probably, I've mentally bought into the press' opinion that Palin supporters won't listen to Obama supporters and vice versa. I wasn't sure how well we'd do talking about these volatile topics.
You know what? We did great. We had a long conversation one evening and the next morning and explored each other's perspective and reason for that perspective. Why did it work so well ... and why don't so many others have these kinds of conversations? Let me list a few things I learned about this leadership through this dialogue:
In college I was two years ahead of both of them. Based on personality and age, early on I was more often the leader in my friendship with Jim. Over the years (exactly half my life I've known him now!) our relationship has morphed in many ways. We lived thousands of miles away for two years when I moved back to Portland after college; then when he graduated we were apartment-mates for a year before Rose and I married; then we were an hour apart for the next three years when I still lived in Michigan; then three years I was in Philly; and now nine years I've been in Portland.
We've shown over time how a relationship can ebb and flow and change with distance, life stage, and technology. (When I was in Portland he in Chicago or Rochester, MN, we used to write 8-page handwritten letters about once a week!) We were each the best man in the other's wedding and have experienced the joy and pain, excitement and sometime frustration of being married to women who are so different from us. Our firstborn kids were born about a week apart ... but his was very premature and ended up passing. Zephaniah's birthday is always tinged with a bit of sadness for me for that reason.
Now we have this tradition of being together for the NCAA Tournament. We've always talked about family, jobs, churches, what we're reading, new and old friends, and many other topics. But this year, for the first time I can remember, we talked politics quite a bit, too. And it was enlightening.
Through the Facebook posts and links we choose, we've learned that we are at very different places politically. I tend to lean fairly heavily Democratic while he is holds pretty strong Republican views. While I think he's made some mistakes, I still think the world of Obama; Jim is a strong supporter of Sarah Palin.
To be honest, I was a little concerned to broach the political topic during our time. I know it can be a hot button for a lot of people. And, probably, I've mentally bought into the press' opinion that Palin supporters won't listen to Obama supporters and vice versa. I wasn't sure how well we'd do talking about these volatile topics.
You know what? We did great. We had a long conversation one evening and the next morning and explored each other's perspective and reason for that perspective. Why did it work so well ... and why don't so many others have these kinds of conversations? Let me list a few things I learned about this leadership through this dialogue:
- At the end of the conversation, neither of us was convinced by the other ... and that wasn't the goal. Leadership is not simply persuasion -- I'm tempted to say "anyone can persuade." We didn't pick and choose the facts and opinions we shared, we just talked. Leadership isn't afraid to put all the facts out there and let people decide for themselves. Along a similar line, Jim and I are both staunch Christians, and one thing we both stand on in our faith is that Jesus will stand up to scrutiny. You could put either of us in a room with people of other faiths for a free dialogue, and we would simply state who Jesus is. We are not his primary defenders, He is, and He can handle it
- Each of us entered the conversation knowing, in our hearts, that 'our side' had made some mistakes ... and we were willing to admit that to each other. Too often, it seems, people don't want to admit that they, their opinions, their policies, are imperfect, incomplete, and open to changing. The pressure to always have the full right answer, in the middle of a constantly changing world, is just foolish. Leadership isn't afraid to admit that others have valuable insights, too, even - gasp! - those in the other political party
- When the other opened that door of vulnerability, admitting uncertainty or possible failure, neither of us jumped on it. If I recognize that I am imperfect, the admission of someone else's imperfection should be treated matter-of-factly, not jumped on or trumpeted. Leadership gives grace to others to succeed or fail. We started learning from each other what constitutes a success, and what each party contributes to the national conversation
- We quickly recognized that part of the problem with the political conversation is that it is often portrayed as dichotomous, as though there were always and ever only two viewpoints on an issue, the Republican and the Democratic. How foolish! The first thing you learn in kindergarten is that everyone has their own opinions, their own ways of doing things, and that many of them are valid. How is it that people in their 20s, 40s, or 70s have forgotten this? How is it that we've allowed ourselves to be sold this? Leadership doesn't allow those with a vested interest to limit the parameters of the discussion so that critical perspectives are shut out
- Perhaps most importantly, we learned that if the discussion centers on an issue, it will divide, but if it starts from a perspective of relationship, it can strengthen us. Too often conversations focus on our differences of opinion instead of on our mutual desired outcomes. Jim and I both want the US to get better; we both want the ability to work and provide for our families and have our kids learn at school and to worship freely and ... you know, the basics. All these political issues just represent different ways to try to accomplish these things. Leadership focuses its energy on agreement about the ends first, then determining best means. It's a waste of time, energy, and resources, and a danger to relationship, to focus on the how before we focus on the what and the why
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Assumptions of David
I've found it to be a truism that good leadership and followership both avoid assumptions. Except when they're appropriate, of course.
We've likely all heard about the dangers of assuming: it makes an A-- out of U and ME (spells assume). And yet the paradox is that we have to build our lives on assumptions. Evangelist Cliffe Knechtle always used to talk about how our daily lives were based completely on faith: the faith that cars would stop at a red light so we could cross the street and the like.
I live my life assuming that I'll wake up tomorrow, that my car and house will still be here, that I'll have electricity and Internet and fresh water and enough food or money to buy food. We take out 10- to 30-year mortgages and 3- to 6-year car loans. We lay out 5-year personal and professional development plans. Our lives are built on assumptions that we don't even think about.
Recently my senior pastor spent a month in Malawi and blogged about this idea. Here is what he said that struck me: "We in the U.S. take a whole lot of stuff for granted - hot showers every morning, the ability to flush the toilet every time you use it, the ability to jump on a computer and have internet access. Or the fact that your children are not reading and doing their schoolwork by candle light because the power is out. It sounds romantic, but it really is not. I hope to return even more grateful for all these daily things and not take them so for granted. I also pray for the ongoing development of nations like Malawi, who enjoy the comforts as much as we do, but have also learned how to live without them much of the time."
"Comforts" is a great word choice here. We so often assume that God wants to bless us materially. By materially here I don't simply mean physical stuff, but things in the material realm. This would include all those non-essentials which we think of as "essentials" to the good life. I currently have the luxury of choosing to leave my high-paying job and am now trying to reorient my eyes, my brain, and my calendar and checkbook around this new, more obviously dependent reality.
There are many in the world who do not have this luxury, for whom there is no choice but simply the daily reality of living with less. And, curiously, they are often living more full, more satisfied lives. What is this paradox? How can this be? Could it be that the abundance of our lives is not just disconnected from, but potentially inverse with, our earthly comforts? Could this be the foundation of the beatitudes from Matthew 5: Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven? Could it be that when we have the kingdom of earth, we don't desire the kingdom of God enough?
And, therefore, maybe we won't inherit it after all? Sobering thought, is it not?
We've likely all heard about the dangers of assuming: it makes an A-- out of U and ME (spells assume). And yet the paradox is that we have to build our lives on assumptions. Evangelist Cliffe Knechtle always used to talk about how our daily lives were based completely on faith: the faith that cars would stop at a red light so we could cross the street and the like.
I live my life assuming that I'll wake up tomorrow, that my car and house will still be here, that I'll have electricity and Internet and fresh water and enough food or money to buy food. We take out 10- to 30-year mortgages and 3- to 6-year car loans. We lay out 5-year personal and professional development plans. Our lives are built on assumptions that we don't even think about.
Recently my senior pastor spent a month in Malawi and blogged about this idea. Here is what he said that struck me: "We in the U.S. take a whole lot of stuff for granted - hot showers every morning, the ability to flush the toilet every time you use it, the ability to jump on a computer and have internet access. Or the fact that your children are not reading and doing their schoolwork by candle light because the power is out. It sounds romantic, but it really is not. I hope to return even more grateful for all these daily things and not take them so for granted. I also pray for the ongoing development of nations like Malawi, who enjoy the comforts as much as we do, but have also learned how to live without them much of the time."
"Comforts" is a great word choice here. We so often assume that God wants to bless us materially. By materially here I don't simply mean physical stuff, but things in the material realm. This would include all those non-essentials which we think of as "essentials" to the good life. I currently have the luxury of choosing to leave my high-paying job and am now trying to reorient my eyes, my brain, and my calendar and checkbook around this new, more obviously dependent reality.
There are many in the world who do not have this luxury, for whom there is no choice but simply the daily reality of living with less. And, curiously, they are often living more full, more satisfied lives. What is this paradox? How can this be? Could it be that the abundance of our lives is not just disconnected from, but potentially inverse with, our earthly comforts? Could this be the foundation of the beatitudes from Matthew 5: Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven? Could it be that when we have the kingdom of earth, we don't desire the kingdom of God enough?
And, therefore, maybe we won't inherit it after all? Sobering thought, is it not?
Friday, February 25, 2011
Belonging
It is said in leadership circles that one cannot lead in a vacuum, and that one cannot lead without followers. In other words, leading and following both happen in the context of a relationship.
I've been thinking about this lately related to the work I'm doing with AllOne and with SEED. In both cases, the hardest part of my work is getting people to recognize a relationship that may not appear obvious or beneficial (or sometimes exist at all).
I was talking with a good friend a couple of months ago about a group of churches in a specific geographic location and denomination. Probably half of these churches have stopped participating in any meaningful way in the fellowship of this larger denominational body.
It is always tempting to think that we don't need others in our own local church, or other churches in our community, or in our denomination. In my conversation with this friend, he said something insightful about how the minute we consider "that group" separate from ourselves, we create space that allows us to distance ourselves from it. Hence the "District" or "Conference" or "Collaborative" or any such entity can be ignored because our identity is not invested in it.
This is illogical in any context.
Jesus says in John 15 that so long as we remain connected to him, we will flourish, but as soon as we cut ourselves off from him we die. A branch that is cut off from a tree is dead: it may still look alive but it cannot live on its own. And if, as Paul says, we are now the body of Christ, then cutting ourselves off from the rest of the body means that we are dead, even if we still look alive for a time. This is the same as Genesis 3, where God says that the day Adam and Eve eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they "will surely die." By eating the forbidden fruit, they died that day, even if they still looked alive for a time.
Why do we even want to keep ourselves separate, distinct from, those others in our company, our neighborhood, our family, our church or denomination? Because we think by keeping ourselves separate we can be safe, secure from being hurt. As if.
We are still connected, whether we like it or not. By pretending we are not part, we are guaranteed to die. By recognizing and living out our connectedness, we are almost guaranteed to get hurt ... but we are also guaranteed to receive fresh nutrients, the inflow and outflow of what is good and necessary for life. I know many, including close friends and family members, who are mere shells because they have cut themselves off from the world, from those who might (or have) hurt them. What they don't realize is that they have cut themselves off from life.
We were made to belong, and we do belong. Do we try to avoid it, pretend it isn't so, or do we acknowledge it, recognize that pain will come, and commit to being in relationship anyway?
I've been thinking about this lately related to the work I'm doing with AllOne and with SEED. In both cases, the hardest part of my work is getting people to recognize a relationship that may not appear obvious or beneficial (or sometimes exist at all).
I was talking with a good friend a couple of months ago about a group of churches in a specific geographic location and denomination. Probably half of these churches have stopped participating in any meaningful way in the fellowship of this larger denominational body.
It is always tempting to think that we don't need others in our own local church, or other churches in our community, or in our denomination. In my conversation with this friend, he said something insightful about how the minute we consider "that group" separate from ourselves, we create space that allows us to distance ourselves from it. Hence the "District" or "Conference" or "Collaborative" or any such entity can be ignored because our identity is not invested in it.
This is illogical in any context.
- In an organization, for example: simply because someone works in another department or business unit, that does not mean their actions do not affect me; work flows in streams, and even if someone else's work is never directly connectable to my own, the culture and company reputation are partially formed by each other employee's actions, which affects me.
- In a neighborhood, the actions of my neighbors impact me. The color they paint their house, the state of their yard, the volume of music and hours they keep ... all these things affect me even if I try to avoid it all by hiding in my house all day and night
- In a family, the interplay between various family members impacts them all. It is often said that you don't marry a person, you marry a family. Even if I have no contact with anyone in my family any more, I still came out of that family, and you can't understand why I do (or intentionally do not do) what I do without recognizing the effects of growing up in that family
Jesus says in John 15 that so long as we remain connected to him, we will flourish, but as soon as we cut ourselves off from him we die. A branch that is cut off from a tree is dead: it may still look alive but it cannot live on its own. And if, as Paul says, we are now the body of Christ, then cutting ourselves off from the rest of the body means that we are dead, even if we still look alive for a time. This is the same as Genesis 3, where God says that the day Adam and Eve eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they "will surely die." By eating the forbidden fruit, they died that day, even if they still looked alive for a time.
Why do we even want to keep ourselves separate, distinct from, those others in our company, our neighborhood, our family, our church or denomination? Because we think by keeping ourselves separate we can be safe, secure from being hurt. As if.
We are still connected, whether we like it or not. By pretending we are not part, we are guaranteed to die. By recognizing and living out our connectedness, we are almost guaranteed to get hurt ... but we are also guaranteed to receive fresh nutrients, the inflow and outflow of what is good and necessary for life. I know many, including close friends and family members, who are mere shells because they have cut themselves off from the world, from those who might (or have) hurt them. What they don't realize is that they have cut themselves off from life.
We were made to belong, and we do belong. Do we try to avoid it, pretend it isn't so, or do we acknowledge it, recognize that pain will come, and commit to being in relationship anyway?
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Love of money, part II
Apologies to those who don't want to read about money :) it's been on my mind a lot the past few months as I have set out on giving up a high-paying job for completely uncertain (from a human standpoint) financial prospects.
Dave Ramsey says “money is amoral.” And he quotes the famous verse about “love of money.” It's interesting that any time someone quotes that verse, and emphasizes the fact that it's not "money" but the "love of money" that is a root of all evil, their intent is to anesthetize us to money's power over us. The intent is never to put out a bold challenge as to whether we should value money at all but to assuage our consciences so that the acquisitiveness, the lust for possessions (or bargains?) doesn't come under close scrutiny. We can then tell ourselves -- very likely deceive ourselves -- into thinking that we don't love money and therefore are safe.
But I believe Ramsey is misguided: money does in fact exert a power, and it seems to me that it is toward addiction, toward more, toward the values of the world. Richard Foster's brilliant work Money, Sex, and Power (republished with the sanitized title of Challenge of the Disciplined Life) states this outright. Money does not just lay around. It preys on my mind and worms its way into my soul.
Think of it this way: how much of my time do I spend making money? If I work a "regular" full-time job, I spend 40 hours (one-fourth of my weekly allotment) making money. Add to that the time I spend shopping, financial planning, tracking my finances, and caring for the stuff I have spent my money on. Likely I'm spending about 100 hours a week on money and its accoutrements. And I'm always thinking about what comes next. What's the next thing we should buy when we have the money? When I get my tax return, what will I spend that on? If I get a bonus, or have a month with three paychecks, what will I do with that money? My impulses, my thoughts, and my emotions are all tied up with money.
That doesn't sound amoral to me.
Foster's solution is to fight the power of money by intentionally and freely giving it away. Not so much by planned giving, but by treating money with disdain, with contempt. I'm reading a biography of John D Rockefeller, in his time the richest man in the world. Into his 50s, he personally read or talked with every person who wanted some of his money. He was very thoughtful and (one gets the impression from the biography) prayerful about where God wanted him to use his wealth.
That's admirable. And we like to think that's what we do. We don't want to waste our money. We call that "bad stewardship." As though giving money to a panhandler who might use it on alcohol is worse stewardship than spending 10 percent of my income on buying a big-screen TV and cable and cell phone bills.
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust destroy and thieves break in and steal." (Matthew 6.19) As I look at my own house, my own life, I sure see a lot of stuff that I've spent my money on, that moth and rust can (and do) destroy. Wouldn't it be better to "freely receive, freely give"? Or to "give to the one who asks you" without thinking of how it might be used?
Of course, stewardship comes into play.
Notice what I just did? This whole blog was wending toward hard, significant challenges, and instinctively I typed a line that undercut the whole argument. For just a second, we all felt safe again, didn't we?
Why is it so important for us to feel safe about our spiritual and moral and social selves when it comes to money? Could it be that we recognize the hold money has on us?
Dave Ramsey says “money is amoral.” And he quotes the famous verse about “love of money.” It's interesting that any time someone quotes that verse, and emphasizes the fact that it's not "money" but the "love of money" that is a root of all evil, their intent is to anesthetize us to money's power over us. The intent is never to put out a bold challenge as to whether we should value money at all but to assuage our consciences so that the acquisitiveness, the lust for possessions (or bargains?) doesn't come under close scrutiny. We can then tell ourselves -- very likely deceive ourselves -- into thinking that we don't love money and therefore are safe.
But I believe Ramsey is misguided: money does in fact exert a power, and it seems to me that it is toward addiction, toward more, toward the values of the world. Richard Foster's brilliant work Money, Sex, and Power (republished with the sanitized title of Challenge of the Disciplined Life) states this outright. Money does not just lay around. It preys on my mind and worms its way into my soul.
Think of it this way: how much of my time do I spend making money? If I work a "regular" full-time job, I spend 40 hours (one-fourth of my weekly allotment) making money. Add to that the time I spend shopping, financial planning, tracking my finances, and caring for the stuff I have spent my money on. Likely I'm spending about 100 hours a week on money and its accoutrements. And I'm always thinking about what comes next. What's the next thing we should buy when we have the money? When I get my tax return, what will I spend that on? If I get a bonus, or have a month with three paychecks, what will I do with that money? My impulses, my thoughts, and my emotions are all tied up with money.
That doesn't sound amoral to me.
Foster's solution is to fight the power of money by intentionally and freely giving it away. Not so much by planned giving, but by treating money with disdain, with contempt. I'm reading a biography of John D Rockefeller, in his time the richest man in the world. Into his 50s, he personally read or talked with every person who wanted some of his money. He was very thoughtful and (one gets the impression from the biography) prayerful about where God wanted him to use his wealth.
That's admirable. And we like to think that's what we do. We don't want to waste our money. We call that "bad stewardship." As though giving money to a panhandler who might use it on alcohol is worse stewardship than spending 10 percent of my income on buying a big-screen TV and cable and cell phone bills.
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust destroy and thieves break in and steal." (Matthew 6.19) As I look at my own house, my own life, I sure see a lot of stuff that I've spent my money on, that moth and rust can (and do) destroy. Wouldn't it be better to "freely receive, freely give"? Or to "give to the one who asks you" without thinking of how it might be used?
Of course, stewardship comes into play.
Notice what I just did? This whole blog was wending toward hard, significant challenges, and instinctively I typed a line that undercut the whole argument. For just a second, we all felt safe again, didn't we?
Why is it so important for us to feel safe about our spiritual and moral and social selves when it comes to money? Could it be that we recognize the hold money has on us?
Monday, February 7, 2011
Which God do I serve? The Lord, or money?
One of the most interesting facets of my movement away from my well-paying job into directing and co-directing two different nonprofits is the uncertainty of income.
You'll note I didn't say the absence of income. I am quite confident that we will have income sufficient to cover our needs. I am, however, uncertain where it will come from.
I had many conversations with people from my old job, from church, through the nonprofits where I serve on the board, from my contacts in the community, my neighbors, and my family. Everyone I talk with, it seems, has one central question: how will you pay your bills? (Closely followed by: what about health insurance? That's another blog post for another day.)
My answer is as simple as it is hard. I believe the Lord will provide to pay the bills. If indeed he has called me, called us as a couple and a family, to do what we are setting out to do, then how could I do otherwise than to trust him? I'm reminded of Psalm 20.7: "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God." In my early 20s I trusted this way, but somehow over the past 15 years that seems to have changed. Now I'm getting back to it.
Many don't believe me about security and trusting. But I recently, on many folks' recommendations, started listening to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University talks. There is much sense in there, I agree ... but to me, it sure seems like human wisdom and not God's plan. Let me briefly explain.
Ramsey talks about saving to create "financial security." How is this different from trusting in horses and chariots? Am I really to save money so that I will be secure? And how much money is "security"? As John D Rockefeller once famously said when asked how much was enough: "Just a little more." No amount of money is ever enough; there is always something more we want, something more we want to do. And even if we could reach a set amount ($5k? $10k? $1m?) where are we going to draw that definition? Shouldn't we be going to Jesus to see what he would have us do with our money?
I'm not saying saving is a bad idea, but when I save so that I have "security" I make it a human, Pharisaic rule. Does want me to be "secure" in my finances, or in his provision? Does he really ask me to "build wealth"? To "pay myself first"? Is it more important for me to own my own home, for me to have $5k in the bank ... or is it more important to use all I have so that others might have food, water, clothing, shelter, opportunity?
I'll continue to process this topic over time. I currently think and speak like only a black-and-white new convert can. I have thoughts of selling all I have and giving it all to the poor, trusting in God to provide for my needs in the future. Are we all called to do that? No, I suppose not ... but I bet some of us are. And I bet many others of us are called to take in, to provide for, those who do.
Where is your security today? In your possessions? Your bank account? Your job, which provides that income and (likely) insurance? Or are you trusting in the Lord to take care of things regardless of your job, income, housing, and bank statuses? May we learn better how to follow the one true God.
You'll note I didn't say the absence of income. I am quite confident that we will have income sufficient to cover our needs. I am, however, uncertain where it will come from.
I had many conversations with people from my old job, from church, through the nonprofits where I serve on the board, from my contacts in the community, my neighbors, and my family. Everyone I talk with, it seems, has one central question: how will you pay your bills? (Closely followed by: what about health insurance? That's another blog post for another day.)
My answer is as simple as it is hard. I believe the Lord will provide to pay the bills. If indeed he has called me, called us as a couple and a family, to do what we are setting out to do, then how could I do otherwise than to trust him? I'm reminded of Psalm 20.7: "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God." In my early 20s I trusted this way, but somehow over the past 15 years that seems to have changed. Now I'm getting back to it.
Many don't believe me about security and trusting. But I recently, on many folks' recommendations, started listening to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University talks. There is much sense in there, I agree ... but to me, it sure seems like human wisdom and not God's plan. Let me briefly explain.
Ramsey talks about saving to create "financial security." How is this different from trusting in horses and chariots? Am I really to save money so that I will be secure? And how much money is "security"? As John D Rockefeller once famously said when asked how much was enough: "Just a little more." No amount of money is ever enough; there is always something more we want, something more we want to do. And even if we could reach a set amount ($5k? $10k? $1m?) where are we going to draw that definition? Shouldn't we be going to Jesus to see what he would have us do with our money?
I'm not saying saving is a bad idea, but when I save so that I have "security" I make it a human, Pharisaic rule. Does want me to be "secure" in my finances, or in his provision? Does he really ask me to "build wealth"? To "pay myself first"? Is it more important for me to own my own home, for me to have $5k in the bank ... or is it more important to use all I have so that others might have food, water, clothing, shelter, opportunity?
I'll continue to process this topic over time. I currently think and speak like only a black-and-white new convert can. I have thoughts of selling all I have and giving it all to the poor, trusting in God to provide for my needs in the future. Are we all called to do that? No, I suppose not ... but I bet some of us are. And I bet many others of us are called to take in, to provide for, those who do.
Where is your security today? In your possessions? Your bank account? Your job, which provides that income and (likely) insurance? Or are you trusting in the Lord to take care of things regardless of your job, income, housing, and bank statuses? May we learn better how to follow the one true God.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Juggling but that's all right
Those of you who have read my first three blog posts may ask yourselves: how in the world does he juggle these major efforts (direct one nonprofit, co-direct another, pursue the PhD)? It's a question I often get asked, especially as I currently serve as Board Chair for two other organizations (a local nonprofit, FamilyWorks! Ministries (famworks.org) and a state denominational committee). And of course I value and prioritize the time I spend with Rose and my boys.
Fifteen years ago my best friend Jim Smith and I were corresponding across 2300 miles: I was living in my parents' downstairs in Vancouver, Washington, having graduated a year or so earlier, and Jim was finishing up his undergrad education at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. We'd write 6-8 page letters, single-spaced, sometimes written and sometimes typed, but always covering a range of topics both wide and deep.
In one letter, Jim wrote about the various activities he had going on and said he was struggling to understand how to prioritize. He said he knew God came first, but then what was second. And in prayer one day, the answer came to him: as long as God is first, it doesn't matter what comes second. Or rather, what comes second may change based on the leading of the Holy Spirit who lives within us. Profound, and true.
I've often thought of that over the past three years as my workload has piled up. God built me with a large capacity for work. Part of that is that I don't need much sleep, part is that I tend to quickly organize my work to finish it as efficiently as possible, and part is that (as an INTJ) even while I am working on one thing my brain is processing the other things I need to spend time on, so that when I sit down to actually work on them, they go much faster. I first discovered this in college when I would routinely write 10-page papers for my literature or history courses in two hours or less, and get A's on them.
So the key is not how I prioritize my own work today, or this week, or for the next 12 months. I make plans, of course -- I am a J who loves structure, after all -- but I've become much more comfortable with God changing my plans.
My life -- as yours, I'm guessing -- is a juggling act, where I may change what I'm focused on every half an hour. But as Jim Elliot once said "Wherever you are, be all there." It's okay for me to have 10 things to work on, so long as God has called me to them and so long as I am not distracted and frittering away my time and energy. When I am talking with someone about AllOne, I am completely focused on that effort; when I have a phone call about the SEED web site, I am only thinking about SEED; when I sit down to research articles for the dissertation, that's what I do. And when I have a date with my wife, I focus on her. When I am hiking or wrestling with my boys, I am with them.
Would I like to spend more time in each of these areas? Sure. But if I am called to multiple expressions for what God has built in me, my job is simply to be obedient and do my best in each. Just as the call was his, so the results are God's.
Fifteen years ago my best friend Jim Smith and I were corresponding across 2300 miles: I was living in my parents' downstairs in Vancouver, Washington, having graduated a year or so earlier, and Jim was finishing up his undergrad education at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. We'd write 6-8 page letters, single-spaced, sometimes written and sometimes typed, but always covering a range of topics both wide and deep.
In one letter, Jim wrote about the various activities he had going on and said he was struggling to understand how to prioritize. He said he knew God came first, but then what was second. And in prayer one day, the answer came to him: as long as God is first, it doesn't matter what comes second. Or rather, what comes second may change based on the leading of the Holy Spirit who lives within us. Profound, and true.
I've often thought of that over the past three years as my workload has piled up. God built me with a large capacity for work. Part of that is that I don't need much sleep, part is that I tend to quickly organize my work to finish it as efficiently as possible, and part is that (as an INTJ) even while I am working on one thing my brain is processing the other things I need to spend time on, so that when I sit down to actually work on them, they go much faster. I first discovered this in college when I would routinely write 10-page papers for my literature or history courses in two hours or less, and get A's on them.
So the key is not how I prioritize my own work today, or this week, or for the next 12 months. I make plans, of course -- I am a J who loves structure, after all -- but I've become much more comfortable with God changing my plans.
My life -- as yours, I'm guessing -- is a juggling act, where I may change what I'm focused on every half an hour. But as Jim Elliot once said "Wherever you are, be all there." It's okay for me to have 10 things to work on, so long as God has called me to them and so long as I am not distracted and frittering away my time and energy. When I am talking with someone about AllOne, I am completely focused on that effort; when I have a phone call about the SEED web site, I am only thinking about SEED; when I sit down to research articles for the dissertation, that's what I do. And when I have a date with my wife, I focus on her. When I am hiking or wrestling with my boys, I am with them.
Would I like to spend more time in each of these areas? Sure. But if I am called to multiple expressions for what God has built in me, my job is simply to be obedient and do my best in each. Just as the call was his, so the results are God's.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Doctor who?
To finish the background sketching here so we can move on to the things that strike and profoundly affect me, today's subject is the PhD in Organizational Leadership.
I have completed my three years of coursework at Eastern University, have passed comprehensive exams, and am now officially A Candidate For The PhD. Somehow that sounds better when I put every word in caps.
As an INTJ personality, writing a dissertation is especially challenging. Why? Well ...
What did my advisor say when I shared this with him? Two comments. "That's a brand-new theory, and very interesting." "Don't do that for your dissertation; the best dissertation is a done dissertation. Do one small piece of that theory and save the rest for the book."
Good advice, I think.
So I've settled in on trying to help small community nonprofits (SCNPs) be more effective organizations, specifically in the areas of recruitment, selection, and socialization of employees. In essence, when the local homeless shelter needs an employee, what are some tools and practices they can employ to make sure they locate, hire, and orient that employee so that both individual and organization are most effective?
In ways only God could figure out, somehow this has dovetailed with AllOne and our service survey (see http://leadingandfollowing.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-is-this-all-about.html) as well as SEED and our need to build an organization (see http://leadingandfollowing.blogspot.com/2011/02/our-next-adventure.html).
So beginning tomorrow, the dialogue begins: I'll be posting reflections, thoughts, and questions for our exchange. I look forward to your input.
I have completed my three years of coursework at Eastern University, have passed comprehensive exams, and am now officially A Candidate For The PhD. Somehow that sounds better when I put every word in caps.
As an INTJ personality, writing a dissertation is especially challenging. Why? Well ...
- the I means I don't share what I'm thinking with other people often enough to get constructive feedback before I get too far down a road
- the N means everything is interesting and I have trouble sticking to one topic/concept long enough to research and write 200 pages on it
- the T means I live in my brain, which would seem perfect for a scholarly pursuit such as the PhD ... but I'm in a program dedicated to the practitioner-scholar, so I have to live it and not just think it
- the J means I crave and thrive in structure. And as anyone who has pursued the PhD can tell you, once your coursework is done, you have no structure other than what you impose yourself. (See: N for my difficulties with self-imposed structure.)
What did my advisor say when I shared this with him? Two comments. "That's a brand-new theory, and very interesting." "Don't do that for your dissertation; the best dissertation is a done dissertation. Do one small piece of that theory and save the rest for the book."
Good advice, I think.
So I've settled in on trying to help small community nonprofits (SCNPs) be more effective organizations, specifically in the areas of recruitment, selection, and socialization of employees. In essence, when the local homeless shelter needs an employee, what are some tools and practices they can employ to make sure they locate, hire, and orient that employee so that both individual and organization are most effective?
In ways only God could figure out, somehow this has dovetailed with AllOne and our service survey (see http://leadingandfollowing.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-is-this-all-about.html) as well as SEED and our need to build an organization (see http://leadingandfollowing.blogspot.com/2011/02/our-next-adventure.html).
So beginning tomorrow, the dialogue begins: I'll be posting reflections, thoughts, and questions for our exchange. I look forward to your input.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Our next adventure
When I handed in my resignation from my paying job last spring, I expected to be working full time on AllOne Community Services (allonecommunity.org), as reflected in yesterday's post (http://leadingandfollowing.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-is-this-all-about.html). God apparently had other ideas.
Our whole family went to Kenya last year so that Rose (and to a lesser extent me) could teach at the Kenya Free Methodist Bible School. We stayed a few days in Nairobi at the beginning and the end -- including spending Zephaniah's 8th birthday on a safari at Nairobi National Park -- with Vickie Reynen, the International Child Care Ministries (ICCM) Africa regional coordinator. Rose and I had numerous conversations with Vickie about adapting to Kenyan culture, trying to learn from what is positive in the US church and what is positive in the Kenyan church. We spent many enjoyable hours talking and being toured around.
Our middle two weeks in Kenya were spent in Kericho teaching at the modular school. For most of the days this meant Rose was teaching while I was hanging out with my sons. And I was afforded a lot of time to process my current experiences and think about other things. (If you care to read more about that experience, you can check out my notes on Facebook.)
One of the things Rose and I consistently heard during and after our time there was how well we fit in. We spent most of our time listening; even though we were the teachers, we recognized that any subject expertise we brought to the table was less than the gap we had in cultural awareness. So our classroom sessions were facilitated discussions, where we would present some basic material and then ask the students to share with us what that looked like in their cultures. And we also enjoyed being with the students.
Imagine our surprise when a couple months after returning from Kenya, Vickie mentioned that she had suggested us to the missions agency for a possible microenterprise ministry leadership position. What Vickie didn't know was that Rose and I have been talking for several years about opening a fair trade store and coffeehouse here in our neighborhood. Once we even filled out an application to lease space, but the building owner leased it to another tenant instead. So we were intrigued.
The intrigue continued through a couple months' worth of conversations with various folks at Free Methodist headquarters. It appeared that God was opening the door for us to step into this ministry at just the time Rose would be stepping down from pastoring and I would be leaving my former employment. We continued, prayerfully with each step, until it became clear that this is what God has for us as a couple.
What does this mean? Well, first we have a lot of work to do, understanding what SEED (which stands for Serving, Empowering, Encouraging, Developing) currently does, where it is strong and where it could use improvement. And meeting all the folks at FM headquarters along with the existing SEED project sites, which are scattered across the continents: projects in Peru, Kenya, Uganda, India, China, Cambodia, and the Philippines. And there are a hundred potential sites in 30 or 40 countries.
We also have a lot of work to do to understand the options. We are familiar with microcredit/microfinance, with Fair Trade, and with market and SWOT analyses, for instance, but every place, every culture, every person or group of people, is going to be unique. We know that God has prepared us for this work, not to the extent that we can be confident in our own abilities but so that we have some raw material that he will put together in the best way to meet people's needs.
This new adventure will be a dance of leadership and followership at multiple levels:
So again, God has taken us from a position of having a very safe, solid income to not knowing how we'll pay the bills. And because he's leading, all we have to do is follow and trust. More to come on that.
Our whole family went to Kenya last year so that Rose (and to a lesser extent me) could teach at the Kenya Free Methodist Bible School. We stayed a few days in Nairobi at the beginning and the end -- including spending Zephaniah's 8th birthday on a safari at Nairobi National Park -- with Vickie Reynen, the International Child Care Ministries (ICCM) Africa regional coordinator. Rose and I had numerous conversations with Vickie about adapting to Kenyan culture, trying to learn from what is positive in the US church and what is positive in the Kenyan church. We spent many enjoyable hours talking and being toured around.
Our middle two weeks in Kenya were spent in Kericho teaching at the modular school. For most of the days this meant Rose was teaching while I was hanging out with my sons. And I was afforded a lot of time to process my current experiences and think about other things. (If you care to read more about that experience, you can check out my notes on Facebook.)
One of the things Rose and I consistently heard during and after our time there was how well we fit in. We spent most of our time listening; even though we were the teachers, we recognized that any subject expertise we brought to the table was less than the gap we had in cultural awareness. So our classroom sessions were facilitated discussions, where we would present some basic material and then ask the students to share with us what that looked like in their cultures. And we also enjoyed being with the students.
Imagine our surprise when a couple months after returning from Kenya, Vickie mentioned that she had suggested us to the missions agency for a possible microenterprise ministry leadership position. What Vickie didn't know was that Rose and I have been talking for several years about opening a fair trade store and coffeehouse here in our neighborhood. Once we even filled out an application to lease space, but the building owner leased it to another tenant instead. So we were intrigued.
The intrigue continued through a couple months' worth of conversations with various folks at Free Methodist headquarters. It appeared that God was opening the door for us to step into this ministry at just the time Rose would be stepping down from pastoring and I would be leaving my former employment. We continued, prayerfully with each step, until it became clear that this is what God has for us as a couple.
What does this mean? Well, first we have a lot of work to do, understanding what SEED (which stands for Serving, Empowering, Encouraging, Developing) currently does, where it is strong and where it could use improvement. And meeting all the folks at FM headquarters along with the existing SEED project sites, which are scattered across the continents: projects in Peru, Kenya, Uganda, India, China, Cambodia, and the Philippines. And there are a hundred potential sites in 30 or 40 countries.
We also have a lot of work to do to understand the options. We are familiar with microcredit/microfinance, with Fair Trade, and with market and SWOT analyses, for instance, but every place, every culture, every person or group of people, is going to be unique. We know that God has prepared us for this work, not to the extent that we can be confident in our own abilities but so that we have some raw material that he will put together in the best way to meet people's needs.
This new adventure will be a dance of leadership and followership at multiple levels:
- Clearly, we need to be responsive to God's leading all the way through
- Rose and I will be learning how to lead and follow, and partner, with each other in working together on a daily basis. We have very different strengths and very different approaches, so molding those will be a great challenge -- and a lot of fun. We could not have even thought about this 14.5 years ago
- We'll all be learning about how to lead and to follow as we work with conferences, churches, headquarters, non-US sites, and possible donors
So again, God has taken us from a position of having a very safe, solid income to not knowing how we'll pay the bills. And because he's leading, all we have to do is follow and trust. More to come on that.
Monday, January 31, 2011
What is this all about?
I have been pondering -- fretting, really -- how to launch this blog. So many thoughts crystallize daily, and which is most important to share?
Clearly, however, before I share ponderous thoughts, I must simplify. So this week's posts will be about a journey, a journey that involves leading and following. It's a theme of my life, especially over the past two years. So I'll share how I came to be where I am: with AllOne Community Services (www.allonecommunity.org), SEED (the upcoming www.seedlivelihood.org), and with my PhD work. Today: AllOne.
Two years ago I had the realization that my combination of work efforts (full-time job, PhD studies, and church leadership training) was somehow lacking cohesion. And I was frustrated by the fact that all the work I did at the local church level somehow was not creating a model for organizational efficiency, effective processes, and growth, in any sense of those words.
One of my recognitions, then, was that the problem went beyond my own personal synergy and even my individual church involvement. There was, it seemed, a chronic problem with coordination and collaboration. Instead of one body of Christ, as the church liked to talk about, we had 20-30 churches each operating in virtually complete isolation.
Now, that may be overstating the case a bit. Each church in our area has partnerships of some kind: some with schools, some with government or community groups, and even some with other churches. But these are almost all tactical collaborations: how we do what we do, rather than strategic -- why we do what we do, with its logical how outcomes.
So I started having conversations with local pastors, church leaders, and church members, and discovered a resonance in many places. So after almost a year of these conversations, the time seemed ripe to act, and AllOne Community Services was born.
Initially, the effort took a couple hours a week. After the excitement of those first conversations, however, the work took on a life of its own and I felt compelled to spend more time on it. At my full-time job, then, I approached my boss, a wonderful supportive leader, and reduced my work hours from 40 to 32 hours a week. This gave me one full day a week to work on AllOne, and the results increased exponentially.
At our first gathering in June 2010 we had only four churches represented, but three others had confirmed attendance only to be waylaid by car troubles, migraines, and medical emergencies. And the energy was plain: churches wanted to find ways to work together, to not duplicate efforts, and to represent one body of Christ to the community.
Community leaders were also excited. Upon hearing of our church survey (if you want to coordinate services, you need a current map of service provision), the St Johns Neighborhood Association asked to partner on doing a larger effort including all nonprofits and faith-based organizations in the area. The directory has been a smash hit and has helped AllOne get a broader picture of the over- and undersupply areas in our community.
We've also been building a web site (www.stjohnschurches.org, due to debut in the next few weeks) that will serve as a showcase for the work we do together as well as a one-stop location for people looking for a household of faith in St Johns.
Now in 2011 we will be working two streams: facilitating monthly pastoral gatherings to build relationships and understanding between churches in St Johns, and convening and facilitating collaborative project work teams from the churches. We have a large number of possible efforts, and I am optimistic that once we collectively decide on a work, we can partner with each other and with other community resources to make a deeper impact without burning out any one church or its people.
Many people ask: where does the money come from for AllOne? The current answer is: my personal bank account. God asked me to do the work, so while we are pursuing other funding sources, thus far all expenses have been covered by my previous full-time income. Of course, as you will see in future blog posts, this has created interesting situations because I am no longer at that full-time job.
This is a journey of leading: God's leading of me and my family and of the churches in the area, and my leading of this collaborative effort.
And it is a journey of following: the duty and privilege of being able to follow those worthy of being followed, and of recognizing the need to follow and submit, sometimes even when we don't want to.
I hope you'll continue to follow me in this blog form. I look forward to our interaction.
Clearly, however, before I share ponderous thoughts, I must simplify. So this week's posts will be about a journey, a journey that involves leading and following. It's a theme of my life, especially over the past two years. So I'll share how I came to be where I am: with AllOne Community Services (www.allonecommunity.org), SEED (the upcoming www.seedlivelihood.org), and with my PhD work. Today: AllOne.
Two years ago I had the realization that my combination of work efforts (full-time job, PhD studies, and church leadership training) was somehow lacking cohesion. And I was frustrated by the fact that all the work I did at the local church level somehow was not creating a model for organizational efficiency, effective processes, and growth, in any sense of those words.
One of my recognitions, then, was that the problem went beyond my own personal synergy and even my individual church involvement. There was, it seemed, a chronic problem with coordination and collaboration. Instead of one body of Christ, as the church liked to talk about, we had 20-30 churches each operating in virtually complete isolation.
Now, that may be overstating the case a bit. Each church in our area has partnerships of some kind: some with schools, some with government or community groups, and even some with other churches. But these are almost all tactical collaborations: how we do what we do, rather than strategic -- why we do what we do, with its logical how outcomes.
So I started having conversations with local pastors, church leaders, and church members, and discovered a resonance in many places. So after almost a year of these conversations, the time seemed ripe to act, and AllOne Community Services was born.
Initially, the effort took a couple hours a week. After the excitement of those first conversations, however, the work took on a life of its own and I felt compelled to spend more time on it. At my full-time job, then, I approached my boss, a wonderful supportive leader, and reduced my work hours from 40 to 32 hours a week. This gave me one full day a week to work on AllOne, and the results increased exponentially.
At our first gathering in June 2010 we had only four churches represented, but three others had confirmed attendance only to be waylaid by car troubles, migraines, and medical emergencies. And the energy was plain: churches wanted to find ways to work together, to not duplicate efforts, and to represent one body of Christ to the community.
Community leaders were also excited. Upon hearing of our church survey (if you want to coordinate services, you need a current map of service provision), the St Johns Neighborhood Association asked to partner on doing a larger effort including all nonprofits and faith-based organizations in the area. The directory has been a smash hit and has helped AllOne get a broader picture of the over- and undersupply areas in our community.
We've also been building a web site (www.stjohnschurches.org, due to debut in the next few weeks) that will serve as a showcase for the work we do together as well as a one-stop location for people looking for a household of faith in St Johns.
Now in 2011 we will be working two streams: facilitating monthly pastoral gatherings to build relationships and understanding between churches in St Johns, and convening and facilitating collaborative project work teams from the churches. We have a large number of possible efforts, and I am optimistic that once we collectively decide on a work, we can partner with each other and with other community resources to make a deeper impact without burning out any one church or its people.
Many people ask: where does the money come from for AllOne? The current answer is: my personal bank account. God asked me to do the work, so while we are pursuing other funding sources, thus far all expenses have been covered by my previous full-time income. Of course, as you will see in future blog posts, this has created interesting situations because I am no longer at that full-time job.
This is a journey of leading: God's leading of me and my family and of the churches in the area, and my leading of this collaborative effort.
And it is a journey of following: the duty and privilege of being able to follow those worthy of being followed, and of recognizing the need to follow and submit, sometimes even when we don't want to.
I hope you'll continue to follow me in this blog form. I look forward to our interaction.
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