It's the little things

Last Thursday I ran down a lonely stretch of two lane road in Southern Mississippi after a day of wrangling 20 teenagers on a mission trip as we tried to paint a house in the rain. (Yes, it was the outside. Yes, you can paint in the rain.) If you know me very well, you know that when I'm on a mission trip (any trip, really) I like to relax in my free time. In other words, I lay around like a slug, sipping a coke, eating potato chips, and reading or watching TV as I doze in and out. In other words, not run. So how did I find myself running down Highway 63 in the Pascagoula River Bottoms on a muggy Thursday afternoon after working all day? Well, the answer to that goes back almost a decade...

Most people don't know this, but before my wife and I were married I went to counseling for several sessions. I knew that I had some issues I needed to work through, and wanted to get through them quickly, so I sought the help of a Christian LPC. For those naysayers and snorters-at of counseling (of which I was one for a long time), I looked at it like this: I wanted to get to a certain place in life, but didn't have a road map to get there. So, I hired a guide to show me the way help me find a few shortcuts.

While in counseling, I learned the importance of writing down life goals, then reviewing them from time to time. It turns out that I have a fairly long list of goals (some specific, some not-so-specific) that I would like to accomplish. My goals range from activities I would like to try (no skydiving!), to career goals, family goals, traveling goals, etc.... So they can be pretty random. For example, two of my goals are to live in a houseboat and to learn to surf, which are totally doable since they make ocean houseboats. (Take that, you unnamed person who says you won't live in a houseboat with me and chuckles at my desire to learn to surf because we live in Texas and far, far away from a beach. You know who you are!) 

Over the years, writing my goals has evolved into a yearly process, one in which I look at my life goals, reflect on all the areas of my life, then decide what I would like to accomplish that year. Bear in mind these are not resolutions- I don't beat myself up if I miss a goal, and I put forth effort to make them simple, measurable, and doable. For example, one goal this year is to lower my blood pressure. Instead of writing "Lower my blood pressure" on my goal sheet, I wrote, "Quit putting salt on chips." That's a small step that over the course of the last few months has worked. My blood pressure is now in the normal range. (Yes, I measure it daily. What good is a goal if you can't measure progress?!)

When originally I made my goals, I was in good shape. I ran, swam, and biked a lot, so  I wrote that I would like to run a 5K, 10K, half-marathon, and a marathon. Before I took on grad school, a full time job, and a family, I knocked out the 5K and 10K in a few years with little planning or effort. However, for the past several years "half-marathon" has stayed on the list without being crossed off. Back in January, one of my church's youth workers asked if I was sharing my goals this year since I had done it for the past few. She laughed and said, "Make sure to put that half-marathon on there again!" Of course, I knew I had to do it then, not because my pride was wounded, but because I had some "encouragement" to motivate me! Just a few words can be the nudge a person needs to get started on something big! 

Lo and behold, a month later, I find myself using my Runkeeper app again, running (with walking mixed in) three times a week, and feeling a little better. (Did I mention that my pants aren't as tight as they used to be?) Am I still out of shape compared to myself when I originally made those goals? YES. Are my ankles bothering me enough that I'm worried I may have to switch to biking? YES. Do I feel kind of sheepish that it's taken me several weeks to build up to 1.5 miles? Not really.

When I fired up my Runkeeper app for the first time since May 9, 2013, I reviewed my stats. I started using Runkeeper on January 5, 2011. If you scroll through the workout log, you'll see lots of 1 to 2 mile runs, with the occasional 3 or 5 miles run thrown in for fun. It doesn't look like a lot if you only look at the individual workouts, but over time they add up. In the two years, four months, and four days that I used Runkeeper before my 1.5 year hiatus from exercise, I logged 139 workouts and ran a total of 432 total miles. 432 miles. That's more than half the width of Texas from west-to-east. I'm no expert, but to me that's quite a bit. It's certainly more than I would have guessed I ran in that time period. All those days of small runs added up, one after the other, and they made an impact. 

Knowing that I've accomplished 432 miles makes running 13.1 miles seem pretty easy. I'm not a pretty runner, and by no means a fast runner, but I can do it (if my ankles hold up)! Best part? That knowledge bleeds over into other areas of my life as well. Big project at work? Healthier marriage? Raising kids that will be independent, potty-trained, productive citizens one day? Paying off a mortgage? All doable! You just have to keep at it and never give up! Remember when I mentioned counseling? One hang up I had was being so all-or-nothing that I was sometimes paralyzed by career moves because I couldn't do something big all at once. The great news (which is why I made the life goal list at the suggestion of my counselor) is that I don't have to do it all at once. All I have to do is keep making strides toward my goals, no matter how big or little. 

So what's your goal? Dream big, put it in the comments, and let's keep working towards it!

Words

A few weeks ago in the Mitten State, I managed to land myself in a group of people much more well-read and smarter than me for a small colloquium on Limited Government and Rule of Law, put on by The Liberty Fund and Acton Institute. If, like me before the conference, you don't know what a colloquium is, let me give you the definition. Dictionary.com defines a colloquium as "a conference at which scholars or other experts present papers on, analyze, and discuss a specific topic." (Emphasis on discuss.) Obviously I did not attend to present a paper, but to learn and discuss ideas in a small, formal setting. Attendees were required to read selected works beforehand from philosophers and statesmen from different eras to discover how political thought, based on natural law, reason, and Christian principles, evolved over the centuries.

How does a guy like me get connected to this kind of stuff? Two reasons: One, I'm a student at Criswell College, which I consider one of the finest learning institutions out there. Two, I subbed out my basic philosophy course a few years ago for a class titled "Ethics, Economics, and Natural Law" taught by Dr. JosephWooddell. I would like to brag about how I managed to earn an M.A. and M.Div without taking core philosophy classes, but weekends such as the one I'm writing about only serve to humble me by revealing this serious black hole in my intellectual development. (One which I'm quickly bringing myself up to speed on through self-study, which means I'll really only know enough to be dangerous. But hey, I'm cool with dangerous as long as my pride stays intact.) For some reason, Dr. Wooddell, a brilliant guy with several letters behind his name and degrees to prove it, seems to think that I'm smart enough to handle myself these events. (Either that or he's secretly playing the best practical joke ever by getting me to facilitate "mini-classes" and participate in the conferences while laughing about it as he eats cherry sours in his office!) That one act of subbing a class led to the recommendation by Dr. Wooddell, which led me to the point I found myself in that Friday afternoon (which was a very dark and lonely place for a few hours).

The conference was Thursday through Sunday, and I was EXCITED! The opportunity to travel, learn, dialogue with other people who share the same interests, and eat some great food at the same time lured me in! I barely slept Wednesday night, and talked my buddy's ear off about community development, human flourishing, and church polity the whole ride to the airport. I arrived several hours early, hooked up with another pastor who was travelling to the same conference, got even more excited as we talked, and was ready for events to begin that evening. As the evening began, I introduced myself to each newcomer and readily conversed. Thursday night's discussion was one I could handle: biblical foundations for limited government and rule of law. I made a few comments in the discussion, but quickly figured out that I was probably the least educated and dumbest guy in the room. So many of the other attendees (12 in all, I think) were quoting philosophers and thinkers from different ages, and there I was with my "The Bible says....." statements, like any good evangelical. (Did I mention Acton was founded by a Catholic priest?) My confidence level was pretty good Thursday evening, but Friday would knock me down a few notches.

Friday morning, we ate breakfast together then marched into the conference room and took our places at the table. The discussion leader gave us our instructions, then said, "I know that you were given questions to answer as part of your pre-reading for this conference, but I have a few of my own I'd like to throw out for us to discuss." I had completed the readings and answered the questions, but it was all downhill from that statement on! The other attendees quickly dove into the conversation, stating points, refuting comments, adding to others, and generally sounding brilliant. The funniest part was how most of them began their monologues with, "I know I'm the dumbest guy in the room, but I want to say ______________," then made a statement that I had to take notes and spend the next 15 minutes figuring out just exactly what they said. (Needless to say, I felt a little lost.) I survived the morning, sat at lunch and didn't say a whole lot, then went to my room for the break, where I prayed to the Holy Spirit for wisdom. (Check out James 1:5 for those of you who may not be avid Bible readers.) I was even more discouraged by the afternoon sessions. I was so busy trying to come up intercessions or points, that I couldn't even follow the conversation. I was so discouraged that I even sent a good friend a text telling him that I had come to the wrong conference!

 After another session, it was time for dinner. At that point I had internally made the decision to tough it out for the next day and a half, make it back home, and never come back to one of these conferences. As we walked to the dining room, a friend and I were discussing the conference and I could tell that he felt the same way. As we walked through the door, a hand laid itself on my shoulder. I turned to look, and it was Dr. Ross Emmett, one of the discussion leaders (and the one guy holding his own in the entire conference). No matter the topic, it seemed that there wasn't anything he wasn't an expert in! (Not to say that he's arrogant; very much the opposite. I had to look up the link I put in and am even more amazed at how humble he is after reading his bio.)  He said to both of us, "You guys had some great points earlier and we can tell you're paying attention to the discussions; don't be shy about adding to the dialogue." I replied, "Thanks, but having new questions to answer and trying to follow the discussion is hard! By the time I come up in the queue, what I was going to say isn't even relevant." Ross said, "You guys don't need to worry about that. Just say you want to return to another point. As for the questions, chuck'em out the window; get in the queue and say you want to answer one from the reading, or ask your own questions." Aha! That was the trick that we hadn't known! My friend and I both agreed that we would skip the evening hospitality to look over tomorrow's discussions and have a few questions and points ready!

Saturday morning rolled around, and I resolved myself to jump into the queue quickly, so as not to lose my nerve. I entered the room and sat down, ready to contribute and pull my weight in the conference. I did, and while I can't say that I made points that were salient, much less understandable, I had a much better time than I had the day before. I even was able to make a few intercessions on others' points! Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the conference, made a few new friends, and learned how to hold my own in a formal Socratic discussion.

 If God's word is true, and therefore James 1:5 is true, then one could come to the conclusion that God had answered my request for wisdom. Granted, he certainly didn't do it the way you or I might expect. I had done my homework before coming to the conference! I didn't even realize it, but I was asking God for practical wisdom, which is what most of us are really looking for when we ask for wisdom (we don't really want knowledge; we want actions that help us with the situation we're in). That wisdom was in knowing the unspoken rules that Ross told my friend and me. Once we knew them, it was a game-changer.

When we pray for wisdom, most of us aren't expecting it to come in the form of a passing word of encouragement; we want the clouds to open up, lightning to flash, and thunder to roar as God speaks to us. Could it be, though, that God uses ordinary human voices to speak to us? Could it be that we, by providing a word of encouragement or quiet instruction to someone, actually are taking part in the grand plans God has for creation and answering prayers? ABSOLUTELY! God worked through flesh to provide salvation through humanity. We are made in His image. Wouldn't it make sense that He would use you and me to accomplish his plans?  (It does help if we have something to bring to the table, so to speak, and Proverbs is full of practical wisdom, so let me put a plug for Bible reading in here.)

I know I will think more carefully about my words from now on. Will you?

The Mitten

Last week I had the privilege of travelling to Grand Rapids, Michigan, as a guest of the Liberty Fund. I attended a small colloquium on Limited Government and Rule of Law. (If it tells you anything about where I fit in the conference, I just misspelled colloquium and had to use a dictionary to find out it means "a conference at which scholars or other experts present papers on, analyze, and discuss a specific topic.") Obviously, I did not attend to present a paper, but to learn and discuss ideas in a small, formal setting. Attendees were required to read selected works beforehand from philosophers and statesmen throughout the centuries to discover how political thought, based on natural law, reason, and Christian principles, evolved over the centuries.

Why would a youth pastor from a small-town Southern Baptist Church attend a conference like this? Because I figured out a long time ago that God created us to work and flourish, and we do so through our relationships and efforts. In other words, what you believe about what you do matters! God has even revealed himself through nature and its laws, so that even a non-Christian can still come to the same conclusions about the best environment for human growth and flourishing through reason. Granted, religious convictions may shape some of our ideas, but even those of the same faith and denomination can still disagree on the means by which all men are allowed to pursue their happyness (note I didn't write "happiness"). That's why it's important to discuss these ideas and concepts so that you don't have to say, "Well, the Bible says..." when proposing ideas, community projects, etc.... Not because we live in a pluralistic society, but because you need a common language to speak that everyone understands. Obviously, my worldview is Christian, and I'm not going to hide that, but I do want to be able to be understood by (and understand) those who don't hold the same views.

Now that I've made myself sound smart (at least I think I did), let me give you my immediate takeaway from the conference. (The rest of it will take several weeks to percolate through my ultra-thick conscious.) As some of you know, I am extremely observant of culture and love to travel because I enjoy the diversity of humanity. I notice food, dress, accents, vocabulary..., you name it.  I'm also a souvenir hound. I really try to look for something that is memorable from my experience, but that doesn't mean I won't whip in a souvenir shop and buy the "Mitten" coffee mug at the airport in a New York minute. (Did you notice I used several regional expressions in that sentence? LOL) So, during free time, while the participants from the North were out viewing the town in the single digit weather, I was staying warm and trolling the hotel's gift shop.

This wasn't a little closet someone had converted into a convenience store to up the price on a pack of aspirin, either. It was a full blown gift store, roaming clerks and all. So while I was perusing the clearance section of souvenirs, a young lady approached me and asked, "Are you looking for anything in particular, sir?" I really was "just looking," but I decided to ask a question about the Mitten symbol on the coffee mugs, magnets, and other knick knacks. So, I asked her, "I'm just looking, but can you explain to me what the mitten on these things means?" She immediately answered and said, "Well, sir, it's a symbol for Michigan."  Being the talker I am, I replied, "Really? That's cool. I get the whole symbol thing. It's like when you see cowboy boots, you think, Texas." As I said this, I pointed down at the cowboy boots I was wearing because, well, I'm from Texas.  (For those of you enjoying the irony, check out this post and follow me on Facebook.) She held up her hand, fingers closed and extended, and replied,  "If you look at Michigan on a map, it's in the shape of a hand, or a mitten." In my arrogance I thought, "One of us isn't listening to the other one, even though we're in the same conversation." What I really meant is, "She's not listening to me because she' not laughing at my joke about my cowboy boots." I thanked her for helping me, she walked on to another customer, and I kept looking at all the items, laughing a little to myself about this woman not listening to me.

Being a newcomer to a small formal conference like the one I attended, I appreciated it immensely when the first facilitator gave us a few ground rules for the discussion. I learned the hand signals for a short intervention on someone's point and making a new point. In other words, he gave us the "adult version" of the "raise your hands to speak, kiddies" speech we all received in elementary school. (Some of us more than others...you know who you are!) While I did participate in the discussion, I found it very hard to do so. The conversation moved fast, lots of big words were being used, and each speaker seemed to have read and thought much more about the subjects than I had. I found myself having to listen VERY INTENTLY to each person's point. So much so that for a few sessions, I didn't even add to the conversation because I was trying to follow the points made. (Or, maybe I have digital dementia.) But you know what was really nice? When you spoke, no one interrupted- they listened until you said you were through, then responded or added to your comments.

We do several things when we meet and talk with people, but, like me a lot of us are really waiting for the other person to finish talking so that we can say whatever it is we want to say. For example, in the conversation where I learned that Michigan is the Mitten State, it wasn't that the lady I spoke to wasn't listening to me. The truth of the matter is that I wasn't listening to her. (If you missed that, go reread my description of the experience.) Over the past few years, I've noticed that in many conversations, no one is really listening to each other, but really just waiting to say what they wanted to say originally (or interrupting each other constantly). Either way, we're ignoring another human being, a person who wants to be recognized and known, just like we do.

This is not a complaint about "society's going to hell in a handbasket" because we're becoming less courteous. It's a call to respect the dignity of the person you have a conversation with by actually hearing the words they speak and responding to those instead of what you thought someone said, or what you've (hopefully) waited to say without listening. Having said that, I'm going to make a concerted effort to be less arrogant and recognize the other humans standing in my life by really listening to them next time we have a conversation.

Anybody want to join me? Comment below!