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  • Shepherds, Sheep, and Wolves 

    If you were to put twenty toys into a room with three toddlers, how long would it take for all three to fight over one toy truck? 

    This is called Mimetic theory. 

    Mimetic theory states that our wants and desires are not individual and that human desire is more imitative than we realize. 

    We learn what to want by seeing what others want. 

    Bombarded by algorithms, advertising, and peer pressures, we can become like sheep. And sheep need a shepherd. 

    So like sheep, when someone or something comes along and finally makes us feel safe, loved, or worthy, we follow them. 

    And our track record for choosing shepherds can be lousy. 

    I think the real danger doesn’t come from wolves in sheep’s clothing but from wolves dressed up as shepherds. 

    So how do you spot the difference between the wolves and a good shepherd? 

    The shepherd never holds auditions. 

    The shepherd never mentions the quality of sheep they demand. 

    The shepherd never bases their protection, love, and concern for their sheep on how they look, feel, behave, or achieve. 

    That’s never the basis for belonging to the flock of a good shepherd. 

    That’s something the wolf whispers. 

    The Good Shepherd has called your name since you drew your first breath. You know the voice. 

    It has always been there. 

    Underneath echoes of insecurity, cries of wolves, and the murmurs of the other sheep, the Good Shepherd’s voice has always been there. 

    It is the voice of the one who lays down his life for us. 

    Who lays down his love for us: exhausted, terrified, would rather be anything else but sheep, always right there saying: 

    “You belong to me.” 

    “You belong.” 

    The Lord is your Shepherd. What more could you want? 

  • Known A Few Deserts…

    For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

     – Eph. 2:10

    In his book How Starbucks Saved My Life, Michael Gates Gill tells how he was born into a wealthy family. Privilege followed.

    A Yale graduate, Gill became an ad executive with a big salary. An affair ends his marriage. He is fired at 53. 

    Then diagnosed with a brain tumor, Gill hit bottom.

    Mike Gill found himself wandering in a desert.

    Stopping for a latte, he was asked if he would like a job.

    Gill answered yes, and it changed his life.

    As harsh, desolate, and draining as a desert can be, it can also be a place of great revival and communion if you are willing to listen and answer.

    The Hebrew word for desert is midbaar, from the word dahbar, which means to speak.

    In desert times, God speaks.

    We all have times in the desert. 

    Jobs are lost. Marriages struggle. 

    Dreams get dashed. Plans get wrecked.

    We must remember that God already has a purpose for us in these times. Even in the desert.

    Never let a perfectly good desert go to waste.

  • Raising The Bar and Foam Fingers

    Ten rows from the floor. Right behind the basket. 

    Mom, Dad, and four bundles of perpetual motion all under the age of 5. 

    Candy-striped pants, cheerleader outfits, pompoms, and one well-worn foam finger.

    Mom and Dad had already determined that the best approach would be to stay in a zone, watching for cuts to the basket, and the concession stand, and the stairs. 

    Their hands were full, but you could tell these two young parents had practiced this before. It wasn’t their first rodeo. Or basketball game.

    Then it happened. The foam finger incident. 

    The foam finger that was the sought-after prize of possession for the four young children had landed in the control of the oldest boy. 

    And he was wielding it like it was Excalibur, hitting everything and everyone in sight. And having a great time doing it. Until…

    Dad had told him to stop twice already. 

    Each time, reminding the young boy about proper use of the foam appendage. 

    Each time, stating the consequences of misuse. Each time, unheeded counsel.

    The third time saw a variation on the theme. 

    The same reminder on proper use, same restating of consequence. 

    But this time all of this was accompanied by a single motion that relinquished control of the foam finger from the young man. 

    No loud reprimand, No public humiliation. 

    Just the follow-up on the previously stated consequences. 

    Action meet reaction. 

    The young boy’s reaction was immediate. 

    Performing a 180-degree turn on the bleacher, he sat with his arms folded, staring straight ahead with his back to dad. 

    Silent. Brooding. Mad. Hurt.

    Dad leans over and whispers, “I love you.”  

    Son lightly swings an elbow to create space away from dad…

    Only to slowly inch back to Dad’s side and throw another elbow.

    “I’m still mad at you, Dad.” I’m still here, Dad…

    Unfolding in front of me was an example the Serving Leader principle, Raise The Bar. Dad and Mom had taken the time to identify and define the core values of their family. This young couple knew the essential values of their family and the behaviors that would define them. Their core values set the course on how they disciplined their children (if discipline has negative connotations for you, substitute with coaching). 

    It was clear in all the interactions I witnessed with this young couple and their kids that they had done the work to embed these values into their family. It was a family that did the right thing because it was the right thing to do. 

    And when those values became compromised, they took the misstep as an opportunity to provide a teaching moment, because at the heart of a serving leader is the desire to help others become the best versions of themselves.

    From The Serving Leader, by Dr. John Stahl-Wert and Ken Jennings:

    “We set high standards for performance and then constantly raise the bar for ourselves. We expect more and more all the time.” – pg. 37

    “Expect little, and we live up to the expectations. Expect a lot, and we stretch and grow to meet the expectations.” – pg. 40

    “…you get greatness out of people by expecting it.” – pg. 41

    The drama played out for another ten minutes. 

    The boy elbows his Dad to get attention. The Dad receives the nudge. “You’re all right. I love you.” To which the young boy inches away again, only to move back after a time and give another elbow. 

    Unfolding in front of me was something precious. 

    Mom and Dad had set values to be met and follow-upped with consequences that were proportional to the offense. 

    The young boy balanced rebellion with the need to know he was still valued. 

    Still a part of the team. 

    “I’m mad, Dad.” 

    “I’m still here, Dad.”

    “We can do better, son.” “Let’s think about our actions, son.”

    “You’re ok, son.” 

    “I love you.” 

    “Always will.”

    You get greatness out of people by expecting it. 

    When we lead others by raising the bar, we raise others up. 

    We raise great sons and daughters. We raise great marriages. We raise great families.

    Went to a basketball game and watched a young couple raise the bar for their family. Well played, Dad. Well played.

  • I Wonder If This Is How God Feels

    I wonder if this is how God feels?

    It has been a remarkable season watching my oldest daughter run cross-country for her junior high team. 

    Remarkable in the sense that she has received no genetic gifting whatsoever for this endeavor from her father.

    Remarkable in the fact that two months ago, Kate had never run a single mile.

    Remarkable in the way that God has worked on me through all of this.

    It’s hard being an overprotective father at a cross-country meet.

    Finally, the gun goes off, and off they go.

    What if she falls? 

    What if she gets lost? 

    What if she gets sick?

    What am I supposed to do?

    Wait.

    Watch.

    Cheer.

    Since her first meet, Kate’s single goal was to qualify for the state meet. 

    She watched as her best friend qualified. 

    She watched as new friends qualified. 

    She got excited as her times steadily dropped with each meet.

    She fretted for two straight meets as her times went in the wrong direction.

    She celebrated as the whole team qualified for the state meet, but she wasn’t content.

    “I will qualify as an individual.”

    She became Donna Quixote, and 14:30 was her windmill.

    Last night, with fall definitely in the air, the starter’s pistol once again signaled the start of another pursuit and the last chance to qualify as an individual for state.

    Kate looked so strong.

    Kate looked so beautiful.

    Kate looked so determined.

    Kate looked so at peace.

    And then she was gone. 

    Swallowed up by the pack,

    overtaken by the trees.

    And all I could do was…

    Wait.

    Watch.

    Cheer.

    This was Kate’s race. 

    Her competition was herself. 

    I couldn’t fix things. 

    Make things better. 

    Guarantee her a happy ending.

    On the other side of the finish line was a life lesson written out just for her.

    Regardless of the outcome, Kate was going to learn something about herself.

    And all I could do was…

    Wait.

    Watch.

    Cheer.

    As she crossed the finish line, I came to a realization and placed my stopwatch into my pocket.

    Her victory would not be defined by place.

    Her worth could never be factored out in increments of time.

    Kate left nothing out on that course. 

    And although she was not the fastest, no one was more determined out there.

    As we walked towards each other, tears filled both our eyes. 

    No words. 

    She just needed her Dad to hold her for a minute.

    I wondered if this is how God feels?

    When we fall into His arms,

    Exhausted,

    Weary,

    With nothing left to give.

    I wondered if this is what God is waiting for?

    For us to fall into His arms, win, lose, or draw.

    Running to Him as our refuge and strength, above any accolades, awards, or ribbons.

    I wondered if this is what God longs for?

    That moment when we realize that we have a Father in Heaven who will throw open His arms to hold us when we seek Him out,

    regardless of where, how, or even if we cross the finish line.

    Kate’s time was 14:26.

    Kate qualified as an individual for the state meet.

    Her response…

    “I know I can go faster.”

    I know you can, too, Kate Rabbit.

    I know you can too.

    But even if you don’t…

    There is nothing you can do or not do that will make me love you even more or even less.

    I wonder if this is how God feels?

  • This Won’t Last Forever

    This won’t last forever…

    That thought popped into my head about 90 minutes into our trip. Today, a journey that usually takes an hour will take us just under 3. Winter won’t let up.

    I am the designated driver for my parents, shuttling my mom to an outpatient surgical procedure. And we are running late.

    And mom is worrying.

    And making sure I know she is worried. This won’t last forever…

    It will get warmer. The snow will melt. We will get there. Mom will stop worrying… Ok, 3 out of 4 isn’t bad.

    I was a teenager the first time I can remember using that phrase… Someday I won’t have to listen to my parents. I’ll get out of this town. I will run my own life.

    This won’t last forever…

    The baby will sleep through the night. The baby will stop crying. We’ll figure out the car seat. We’ll stop feeling like idiot parents… Ok, 3 out of 4 isn’t bad.

    You will find a new career, adventure, security… You will sleep through the night again. You will stop feeling like a failure, like damaged goods. Those plans God has for you haven’t changed. Neither has He. This won’t last forever…

    Mark Twain once said, “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”

    The eyes of your teenager won’t always roll when you say something. This won’t last forever…

    All through the Bible, we are told that our trials are temporary. But so are the kind of moments they make Apple commercials about. What will you do with a moment that won’t last forever? Nothing lasts forever. The rolling eyes of your teen will soon be rolling out into the world on their own. Those parents who try your patience will one day be gone.

    And you will someday try the patience of a once eye-rolling teen who now drives you around in the snow.

    This is a tragic, at times beautiful, in moments, hot mess of a circle of life.

    And it won’t last forever. 

  • Mea Culpa

    You don’t know me

    I hold no real position of authority

    I have no leverage, influence, or any great wisdom that warrants you paying me any mind

    I am nobody

    I’m not on the winning side

    I’m not on the losing side

    I’m not of the ilk to think that the “lesser of two evils” is the better option

    I’m prone to think that evil is evil

    And I believe that there is no one so far gone that God can’t restore or redeem them

    With that said…

    Here’s what I think we’ve learned from this election cycle.

    We really know how to hate the other guy.

    We are willing to accept behavior that we would punish our children for displaying (well, some parents would – that’s a whole other post).

    We have no problem defaming, accusing, lying, or refusing to listen first to anybody

    And the really cool thing is now we can do all of that on social media – we get to act like a bunch of 7th graders who’ve been mainlining RedBull for days!

    How cool is that!

    We can urge people to vote their body parts…

    We can describe people as body parts…

    And everybody now has cornered the market on…

    how to fix the economy

    how to deal with our international ‘friends’

    the nature and character of God

    the frailty and dysfunction of religion

    and what is truth, justice, and the American way

    We have issues with everything and everybody

    And that’s the problem…

    We all have issues

    The mistake we make is that we’ve convinced ourselves that those ‘issues’ are all owned by ‘the other guy’

    We never address our issues – we just blame the other guy

    And nothing gets done

    The once shining city on a hill is reduced to a smoldering ruin of what we thought once was, what we had hoped it is, and what we prayed (if we even do that) it might become

    I don’t think government is the answer

    I believe all life is sacred

    I believe that God is who He says He is or He is nothing at all

    And I believe there is a God like that and it’s not me (or you)

    I believe that those who call upon that God’s name are to love others because He loved us first

    And I’m convinced, more than ever, that I am the problem

    I let bitterness fester

    I let fear dictate

    I withhold grace, mercy, and forgiveness

    I shout so I don’t have to listen

    I hate…because it is just so much easier

    I pimp out my righteousness while a dying world just laughs at my filthy rags

    I am the prodigal

    The rich young ruler

    The hypocrite 

    The poser

    The hurtful, sarcastic jerk on Facebook

    And I am broken

    And I am a sinner…

    And I am His, and I am forgiven

    And it’s high time I lived like that…out loud and boldly 

    I’m not sure where that fits into politics

    I’m pretty sure you’ll go ahead and label me

    I’m pretty sure most of you already have

    I’m pretty sure I don’t care

    The clearest thing this election cycle has taught me is this…

    If we don’t start loving one another as God calls us to…

    This nation, or any other nation for that matter, doesn’t have a hope in hell

    You don’t know me

    I am nobody

    I am everybody

    And we’re all in this dumpster fire together