Good to bad ideas

As I "planned" out my trip, I was excited.  Hitting the super slab (interstate) with just me and my motorcycle was a promise of joy unspeakable and full of glory.  Although I was just hoping over to the mega-hospital 70 miles down the road, I was fantasizing of wide open place to let my Vulcan Mean Streak 1500 fly.

The on ramp was an invitation.  The traffic lines were the dance steps.  The throttle my want for freedom over the stress and rules.  It was a harmonic cacophony of bliss set to the tune of my tailpipe. 

For the first hour.  That's when I realized my poor planning.  I hadn't stretched, so now my muscles were taunt, especially in my neck.  I hadn't attached my windscreen, so now my forehead felt as though I had endured Chinese water torture.  My freedom flight became plagued by my own grouchy nature.  It's hard to get away from that on a motorcycle.

As a runner and motorcyclist I should have been able to use advanced thinking to avoid these problems.  I should have been wise enough, mature enough, to recognize the dangers of these snares (and on a motorcycle, annoyances quickly become dangers as they sap your energy and attention).

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has lost out on promised joy due to bad planning.  But hopefully by sharing, I can stop someone a little heartache down their road. 

My daddy told me once, "Learn from other's mistakes.  You won't live long enough to make them all yourself." 

I'm trying dad.

To all my running friends for "the hard days"

Today it rained on my run.  Not one of those nice light drizzles.  Nor one of those annoying off & on showers that leaves you feeling grosser than when it started.


No, today's rain was a sudden torrential downpour that threatened to turn the run into a swim.  It stung my eyes, hurt my exposed skin, and soaked my key fobs (creating a very awkward moment between myself and the campus police officer).

And the thought of giving up on my run was present.  And were it a lesser run (or maybe even a stronger rain), I might have.  But this was track day.  This was mile repeats day.  This is what I love to do.  They are tough, they push me, and each time I finish a track day... there's just a certain joy and radiance.

My friend, and running mentor/brother, Floyd Wellborn once talked with me about motivation for hard runs and about running races.  He asked (and I paraphrase):
Ryan, what are you going to say when your daughters hit a hard spot?  Are you going to tell them it's okay to quit.  That just showing up is enough?  Or are you going to look them in the eye and spark in them the belief that it's not always a matter of "how you feel" or "if it hurts"... you'll look at them with dignity and say, "Sometimes you have to take the hard to enjoy the win."

So today, I took the hard.  I met (and bettered) my mile time on each of the three repeats.  Because I want to be ready for the next hard day.

I want to know and I want the hard day to know; I'm tougher than it is.

Ways to make your youth worker/minister/pastor/director's day

A top teen ministry member...

… avoids leaving chips on the floor to be stomped into the carpet

… doesn’t leave the retreat/camp/trip form in their seat

… comes with a smile on their face

… looks for ways to help the ministry and other teens

… knows what’s going on in the youth ministry --  and if they can’t, they know where to look

… loves retreats, tells their friends about them, saves for them, and can’t wait for the next one

… is not rich, but stills pays for activities, early or on time and occasionally offers to pay for someone who is new, short of cash, or undecided about going

… asks the leaders if there is any responsibility he can take to make things easier on the leaders and to gain experience in the process

… uses a generous amount of deodorant—especially while at camp

… is willing to compromise for the good of the ministry when it comes to a place to eat, their parents going too, cleaning up…

How I cured being un-date-able

At first I thought it was a fluke.  Because really, it could happen to anyone once.  The second time I knew it was only because I hadn’t gotten her number right.  But as the third, fourth, and fifth dates became nights of me waiting to get her address, sitting by myself in a restaurant, and knocking at an unanswered door, I started to think it was something else.  Even though I had inklings that it was something I was doing, I had no clue what that was.

Slowly and surely though.  I became the king of being stood up.  

It wasn't easy.  You have to be careful how you work it to be as isolated and lonely as I was.  I found it helped to find girls who couldn't say "no" to a date, but then not say enough to be dated.  A delicate balance to be sure.  Another great addition is to have friends along the way to help comfort, console, and use you as the butt of their jokes.  You'd be ssurprised at how easy those friends were to find.

By the point that I hit my sixth date in a row when I was stood up, I started to think that there was something in the water.  Maybe my ex-girlfriend had started spreading rumors that made others run from me like chickens from KFC.  So I asked her, we were still friends; we would even grab lunch from time to time.  After listening to my situation, she laughed.  I can’t say that did much to boost my ego.   She affirmed me that I hadn’t grown a pair of horns and that she hadn’t likened me to dating a b-movie monster.  She said, and I quote, “Ryan, you’re one of the best guys I know.  In fact all other guys I date will be measured by our relationship.”

Well, that sounded good to me.  But there was still the business of being stood up that was driving me crazy.  The waiting, in my book, is the worst part of anything.  If you were to take me to a doctor’s office, I’ll have fun.   I’ll like the doctor; I’ll chat up the receptionist, nurse, x-ray technician, and even the janitor.  But, you leave me in a room by myself; I lose it.  My imagination is just too active, and the conclusions I draw are rather enormous in their creativity.  For instance, my eighth night of being stood up, I was supposed to take a fair maiden to a play at a local high school.  I can hear you, but it wasn’t as bad as it sounds!  I had done my homework and found out that she was in lots of plays and productions in high school and her drama teacher had recently transferred to the school that was performing the play that night.  "I can't lose", I thought.  And after waiting around for an hour after the play started, I knew I had thought wrong.

Now let me show you what my imagination did to me.  As I sat waiting for my call to be returned, I wondered if she had always hated her teacher.  If she had been glossed over for the part she had wanted.  She was, undoubtedly, the ideal choice for the role of insert your choice of character, and the teacher instead went with the girl who was skinnier, curvier, prettier, better dressed, and had straighter teeth.  By the time I gave up waiting for her to get back to me, I was convinced that she had actually gone to the play alone and was now backstage flirting with the teacher.

The whole idea of being stood up irritated me.  Deciding to neither keep your word to give someone a test run nor telling them to kiss off, it’s beyond me.  Even the word “stood up” made my blood boil.  It’s bad enough to have to fight the lump in my throat to ask the gentlewoman for a night of her attention, I then had to figure out what would make my thin body look LEAST like a coat rack, and then… Nothing!  I had hoped for the joy of someone’s company, but then was suddenly ousted and exposed, (singing) "all by myself".  Being stood up, flaked, abandoned, left high and dry, caught but not released, and, my personal favorite, left for dead was about the cruelest thing that could happen in my inexperienced dating life.

Just when I thought my situation couldn’t possibly get worse, here come my siblings.  My brothers teased me and my lack of a lady.  As they sat back with their wife and long-standing girl friend, they offered advice with heavy servings of sarcasm and name calling.  They suggested going around with a t-shirt saying “Date me and win a new car!”  I was given the fun pet name; Quasimodo.  At one point they asked me if I was showering before asking the girl out.  I’m still not sure if they were joking.

At “stood up date” number ten, I was supposed to be escorting a fine young lady (just because I was in a bad place didn’t make the gals any less classy… in my mind) to a Dixie land band concert for charity.  I figured it would showcase my humor, good music, and maybe make her think I was concerned about the rainforest, hunger, hard-to-pronounce diseases, or whales.  After calling to cancel the dinner reservations, I realized that the streak wasn’t going to stop in single digits.  I had suffered enough though; it was time for a change!  I was no longer the guy to be stood up!  I was no longer the one who would wait by the phone!  No, I was a new man!  Ladies beware… Here I come!

Unfortunately, my resolve didn’t stick well.  At the point that I was stood up for my twelfth date, I really did give up.  I realized that regardless of how fun the evening, how I asked, or what the perks of dating me might have been, I really shouldn’t try anymore. 

That sad decision left me two options: one was to give up totally on dating, become a monk, live a life of celibacy and declare that God has made me unacceptable to women.  Or option two… I could start dating my friends.  I went for door number two.  It really wasn’t as bad as it sounds.  Don’t think so much of a romantic dinner for two; it was really more like children’s play dates.  A “non-date date” was how I thought of it.  We’d hear of something we wanted to do, agree to go together, split the cost some way, and have a great pressure-free time.  No more Mr. Stood Up.  There was even built in insurance against me reclaiming the title, they couldn’t afford to blow off the non-date because they had to see me later.  So that fear went out the door.  With us already friends, I didn’t have to impress this person.  From there it was smooth sailing.

After several non-dates, I discovered an odd perk: we could invite multiple people could join us.  I had officially launched “double dating for the non-dating”.  It was awesome!  If conversation got dull with one friend, I could turn to another.  If someone was talking over my head, I could look at someone else to see if they also had a blank stare.  The best part of the non-date was that it allowed any and all of us to have extended conversation instead of shorter chats that couldn’t even skim the surface of the matters that mattered to us.

As my non-dates increased in frequency, I was able to become more at home with myself in the company of just one other person.   I was able to enjoy the attention of just one lady and focus on how to be a dialogue partner.  By having their full awareness, I was able to ask their opinion on men.  Some might call this a hidden agenda, but I saw it more as a chance to improve the men’s chances of being what women wanted.  Or, while in my more daring moods, I was doing behind the enemy lines research!

So there it is, for twelve consecutive dates I was stood up.  These twelve back-to-back dates spanned a year and a half, two states, and three hair styles.  It was horrible, it was humbling, and it definitely made family-get-togethers a little rough.  But in the end, it taught me how to be comfortable enough around people to be with a person.  And the confidence that came from learning about me is what allowed me to meet and marry my wife.  Who, by no small accident, was a friend of my non-date friend.

Musing on Job 39:19-30

Ever wish God would talk directly to you?  I’m sure Job did, until perhaps God talked to him like this.  It’s quite a “conversation” that they have.  It’s filled with all the things that God is, has made, and reigns over.  And Job is kind of left sitting there, realizing that he hasn’t brought much to the table.

 

I bet Job, and you and I too, wished that God would have come in and explained the whole idea before it got underway.  GOD, “Job, you’re going to have a hard time.  It won’t be fun, you won’t like it.  But in the end, many people will better understand how to endure suffering because of your life.”  Job, “Can we talk about some of the details?  Like the kids and wives part?  I don’t really like how you’ve laid those out.  In MY WAY, it works a little different.  Let me show you…”

I don’t know about you, but I get stuck in the mindset that God really should listen to me more.  I start thinking that “MY WAY” should really be consulted on a regular basis and that God is pretty lucky to have me around to double check everything by.  I of course don’t really think this, but occasionally, and most unfortunately, I act this way.  I pray for God to do things that I want.  I plan and then hope that God will back it up.  I look around and start making decisions based on what I think would be best for the Kingdom of God . 

 

I hope you’re a little bit smarter with your actions than I am.  I need regular and stern reminders that God is in control and I am not.  It’s a simple lesson; a good one to keep in mind, but a better one to live.   

 

God is God, I am not.  When we lose sight of this, we need to read it, hear it, and live it again.

Steal these ideas and make millions (of friends)

Ideas for youth workers:
--- Talk with parents about what you appreciate about their kids.
--- Always speak positively about parents.  Give them the benefit of the doubt... ESPECIALLY in front of teens.

The oddest thing (that was appropriate) to share!

--- Gripe up the food chain.  If you have a problem, don't share it with those under you, seek help from above (God and your leader).
--- Look to make contact with teens through the week.  DON'T miss their birthday!
--- Look to make contact with the leaders in ministry with you.  A five minute conversation will pay off in huge dividends.
--- It's better to be with teens than to have the program run perfectly.  What you feed a machine isn't what you'd feed a relationship.

Please share any great nuggets you've learned along the way!

Wondering about Genesis 2:18-25

Ever wonder what God's favorite joke is.  I'm of course operating off the assumption that God has a sense of humor and that he finds pleasure in it.  If he doesn't have a sense of humor than a lot of points in my life take a much crueler meaning and I need to offer some big apologies.

In reading the creation narratives, I keep seeing that while Yahweh put every animal together he was having a good time of it.  He shows off his imagination by creating everything and then lets Adam (man) take part in creation by caring for and naming them.   This couldn't have been the easiest part of Adam's day.  And maybe it points to something else, Adam had some work God wanted him to do.  He had to be involved, hands on, even somewhat exhausted with caring for all that God had created.

But again, look around at some of the things he created, can you see some humor intended?  For instance, the ostrich, a creature exists with an eye that is bigger than its brain.  If that isn't enough for you, try the duck-billed platypus.  Body of a beaver, mouth of a duck, and a face only a mother could love.  Just because Adam was swamped (BTW: God made swamps), doesn't mean he couldn't enjoy the divine work and chuckle in the middle of it.

The Bible says God put all of these together and then sat back and looked at the fact that man was still flying solo.  This apparently wasn't satisfactory because God moves and creates woman.  This is where, in my humble opinion, some of the best moments originate for people: the joy of companionship, the excitement we find in each other, the blessing of the one who completes us, and these are just the easy ones to remember.

This passage reaches it's peak with the exuberant response of Adam at "God's gift to man" (insert appropriate laughter here) Eve.  Read it again!  Adam is beside himself!  He's as giddy as a 7 year old on Christmas.  He finally has someone to love, honor, cherish, and (depending on who did the vows) obey.  It's as though God knows exactly what Adam needs even before Adam knows how to ask for it.

How long has it been since you've looked around and given credit to our Creator for what he's given you?  Maybe your in the middle of a long, lonely, and overwhelming time.  How would your world be different if you started looking at the parts as though God had put them there to include you in his work?  What if you're challenges became chances to see God invade our world?  What if you knew that your trials would give birth to reasons to celebrate? 

The moment we come to terms with a shifted mindset we will start seeing a God who laughs more.  A Father who delights in his children and in blessing us with precise gifts for our needs.  A Creator who sees his creations enjoying themselves.  A God who has a great sense of humor.

State of the Un-united

I've come up with some easy to hold statements regarding working with teens (for the sake of this post, teens/teenager/tweens/middle-adolescences/screenagers/high schoolers/middle scholers will be used interchangeably... but mostly they'll be called teens).  They aren't shocking or even seemingly profound.  But they are as spot on as any I've encountered.

1.  Life isn't fair... especially when you're a teenager.
To most adults this is a "Well duh!" statement.  We know life isn't fair.

But consider where the teens have been.  Preschool: teachers and adults have enforced rules that ensure fair play, sharing, and justice.  Home: parents have treated everyone fairly or equally.  Church: see above... hopefully.

But something inevitably goes wrong.  Anything from heartache to parents divorcing to abuse (staggering statistics available with just a Google search) can spark the first taste of how unfair life can be.  These launch pads spin them and they don't have the emotional fortitude nor life experience to see that they'll make it through. 

Something that sends them further is a lack of stress management techniques.

The result is the blind leading the blind and teens turn to other lost teens for help.  Enter self-injuring and attention-seeking behavior (again, find numbers that make you feel comfortable with search words: cutting, high-risk teens, at-risk teens, etc...). 

So now, not only are they reeling from the injustice of life (that was hitherto unknown), but now they suffer the consequences of bad choices, one of which being shame (for guys) or fear of isolation (for gals).  The licks keep coming and the situation heads quickly from bad to worse.  What started of as life's unfair way gets multiplied into a secret scar that often doesn't receive help.

2.  Almost all of life is hard at some point, but sometimes you can pick the hard point.
This sounds more difficult than it is.  Consider: if you study, learn, and do you homework through out the semester, you'll be better prepared for the final than if you stay up all night cramming.  If you pick the hard in the lesser, "small" form all along, then the immensely hard or "big" hard is avoided.  Baring #1 up there. 

This isn't a formula, but it does work a lot of the time.  If you do the regular scheduled maintenance, oil changes, and tire care then HOPEFULLY your engine and wheels won't fall off while you drive down the road.

Where this bleeds over to the world of teens is that if they can do the "small" hard work of walking alongside their parents, who won't get them, who won't be cool, who won't (fill in the blank), then they are there when #1 rears it's head.  Teens will have someone to fall back on, because they never walked away.

The bad news is that adults aren't there.  Not because teens don't want them, but because, as Dr. Chap Clark puts it in his book Hurt, "there is a sociological abandonment of middle-adolescence".  Or more simply, adults are walking away from teens. 

Let's read that again: adults are walking away from teens.

I'd wager it's not because we don't care, but instead because adults are busy.  We're trying to do all the right things to secure the right future for the teens that we toss the habit of being with them.  Maybe we balk at their music, style, smell, and/or hairdo.  Regardless, we've quit being their number one fans and have let them run loose... then we're surprised that they are hurt and hurting themselves.

I can hear objections: "They want to be alone and with their friends!  They don't want me around!"  They also didn't want to take naps, eat vegetables, go to school, or take a bath!  When did their "wants" outweigh common sense?  If you've made it through the teenage years, you know what a roller coaster it can be.  There is no point in making it harder on teens now by pulling your supporting, loving presence away. 

That's the "small" hard!  Stay in.  Stay active.  Stay consistent.  This will have you in the prime position for when/if the "big" hard comes along.

Additional thought: you aren't supposed to be their best friend.  You =are supposed to be their parent.  This is a tough spot to navigate, but almost all of life will be hard at some point.  Sometimes you get to pick the points.

3. We hang on for a better day.
Because of #1 and #2, we have #3.  While in training at a new job, we got slaughtered in our first attempt.  A wrecking crew would have done less damage to our morale and enthusiasm.  Our "coach" looked at us, the quivering mass that we were, and said, "Good news!  This is the worst that you'll ever be at this."

I didn't want to show up the next day.

The wisdom our coach offered was solid: right now stinks, so... you'll only get better.  As you keep this up, you'll improve.  You'll learn new tricks and coping mechanisms.  By God's grace, we'll see order come out of chaos and stand above it.  This is truth (some) adults know.  This is truth teens need to hear.

DISCLAIMER: this isn't a promise that life will get easier. 

You won't find that the first two ideas are suddenly null and void.  Life gets better.  Friendships become deeper.  Love lasts longer.  God strengthens us in time.  Life is better, but rarely easier.

What is easy to miss in this idea is the first word.  WE hang on for another day.  This looks directly at the adage that no man is an island.  This is a team sport.  A community is standing behind this child/teen/adult and as such we hang on for a better day.  If today was garbage, that's okay!  We have the patience and faith to see what the next 24 hours will hold.

Mike Pivilachi tells the story of going to speak and bringing a teen to lead the worship music.  he says Matty gets up there with his guitar and starts playing Shine, Jesus Shine.  Then Matty starts it up again.  And again... and again... and again...  After Mike finally kicks Matty off stage, speaks, and then runs away, he asks Matty why he sang Shine, Jesus Shine for 30 minutes straight.  Matty's response, "It made Jesus happy!".

The moral of the story: if we want them to be great, we have to let them be horrible.  Mike furthers it by saying, "If Matt Redman is a great worship leader, it's because I let him be horrible."

Life isn't fair... especially when you're a teenager.
Almost all of life will be hard at some point, sometimes you get to pick the hard points.
We hang on for a better day. 

May God's grace fill you today.