The Position of Process

"The first thing I did was disown God."

Quite a weighty comment. Especially when you believe in God, and consider Him an omnipresent creator of all things, holy, almighty, etc. But that's what a friend of mine said when he was going through a divorce. He said that disowning God was the first thing he did.

It made me think, we all should. Disown God. Because we don't own Him.

Owning God is a problem that many of us in the "Christian" community, and those within its institutions, are infected with. It's as though we have destinations in mind or results to achieve "in the name of the Lord." It's like we've predetermined God's outcomes. And when the destination looks different than we'd prescribed, we get upset with Him because he didn't get us to where we expected. And yet, ironically we "Christians" say we want to follow God's will, not our own.

I've had conversations with many people about God's will. Is it God's will for me to do this, or God's will for me to do that. Take this job or that job. Vote for him or for her. Manage my finances this way or that way. Do this or that. Go here or there. It is all seems to be about the outcome—where we land (or at least hope to land). But I believe that the position God wants us in is the position of the process. Or maybe better put, the destination of process.

In the Bible, we read about the Israelites. Folks who wandered around in a desert for a very very long time hoping to get to the place that God had promised them. In their eyes, I'm sure the idea of what that "land of promise" looked like probably took on many forms. If God promised me that He was going to lead me to that land, my mind would run wild as to what that would look like. Rolling hills, trees and birds, breezy, sunny days, and cool nights. Water and waves. Music within the wind. Milk and honey. But God had them, the Israelites, where he wanted them—on the move to a destination unknown. There were plenty of times along their trek that the Israelites got pissed, and disowned God as He wasn't meeting their expectations. But He did meet there needs. And told them to take another step.

More and more as I walk about this earth, I am trying to embrace this position of process. It's not always fun, and the outcomes aren't always what I'd had in mind, but there is a wonderful mystery to it. A scary, painful, joyful, exciting, wonderful mystery. Expecting nothing, yet anticipating everything. And I believe this is where our mysterious God is—this mysterious place. And He wants me to be there with Him. Walking in the garden in the cool of the day.

So I am learning to do this. Trying to realize that this process—this destination—is where I'll stand. One step at a time.

Life's Tilling

"Old age is not for the weak."

I was having coffee with a friend. He's in his mid-seventies, an accomplished artist, has a wife battling some curve balls in assisted living, and is doing his best to live a good amount of life on his own as he walks through the aches, pains, changes, and shortcomings of his life as he knows it. He shared the above adage "...not for the weak." with me. Not a badge of honor, moreover a statement of fact. There is a developed strength required to make it through life.

I've got a couple of close friends in my life who I look up to. They're the sort of people that cause me to think "I want to be like him."

One of the guys seems to boldly walk through life with sensibilities and thoughts that are quite uncommon. He says what people are thinking. He's well versed in philosophies and world-views both old and new, and is not afraid to speak of, or even be the elephant in the room. When you are with this guy, you feel challenged. Sometimes you can receive it as an aggressive challenge—but most of that feeling comes from the challenge itself being provoking, not the man verbalizing it. He's a renaissance man in 2018. And I want to be like him. Having spent more than a decade of weekly conversation with him, I suppose in some ways I am.

The other guy strides along the earth with the ease of Freddie Couples on the course on a Saturday during one of golf's majors. You wonder how he can do it with such a breezy manner. He (my friend that is) is one of the most gracious, soft-spoken, witty, generous-in-spirit people I know. His love for others—friends and strangers—is on display at all times. Giving encouraging words and relevant insights in so many areas, with a special gift for demonstrating patience, listening, and acquired wisdom. And I want to be like him. Having spent more than a decade of rich dialogue in what seem like semi-annual conversations over margaritas and guac, I suppose in some ways I am.

But, if I were to say to either of these guys that I want to be like them, while they'd probably appreciate and understand my sentiment, they'd probably both reply "No you don't." You see there is a requirement to get to the places my friends have landed. Knowing their stories, the personal, relational, professional, spiritual, financial, heartaches (some they'd admit are self-induced) has formed them. They are aware of their past, present, and the potential of future pain. Not happy about it, buy in a way glad it occurs. Because that is where growth happens. In the valley, not on the mountaintops. Fortunately, valleys are not forever. But when we are in it we want out of it. But we need to be there to become more of ourselves. And not like others.

I'm in a valley of sorts. A time of odd isolation that has me thinking a ton about myself and the world in which I live. It's not a fun place, but it is a valley full of wonder, fear, and hidden beauty. I recently finished a book by Brené Brown called Braving the Wilderness. It is a read for the valley. In it she shares a Maya Angelou poem that talks about belonging no place and belonging everyplace. Essentially through isolation—through the valley—we become who we indeed are. And this gives us a confidence, or "way" about us, that allows us to bring ourselves anywhere—belonging everyplace, without changing ourselves to accommodate that "everyplace."

When I look at Jesus, a guy who I think I'd like to "be like," I see a man who was able to live a life for others. With his love and actions. But the cost was so high. The work was so immense. The valley was so deep and dark. But his mountaintop is beautiful.

In the valley we are tilled, it is hard and undesired. But for our seed to grow into its purposeful beauty, this must happen. And throughout life, it happens again and again.

Becoming yourself is not for the weak.

Presenting Posture

I was having a conversation in a coffee shop the other day with someone I hadn't seen in a long time. About six or so years ago we did some work together. She shared with me some of the reasoning behind why she left that work as it no longer suited her worldview or perspective on business. In a nutshell, she began to pursue a plant-based diet, and some of the work and industry in which we were working was related to the pharmaceutical industry, and her views on that had changed. Long story short, she became a vegan and is raising her daughter at home, pursuing what many might call an alternative, at the very least nutritionally alternative, lifestyle.

I too was a vegan—for a short while. I watched the documentary What the Health and converted. And boy oh boy I sure shared my changed dietary considerations with lots of people. I am sure I annoyed some (ask my wife). Perhaps I caused some to be curious, but I probably drove many to the nearest burger joint. To be honest, a few weeks later, pizza and beer were back in my belly again—I have such desire but poor follow-through.

There's a joke that goes something like "Q: How can you tell if someone is a vegan? A: They'll tell you." 

My friend and I in the coffee shop talked about that vegan joke and laughed a bit. But this joke didn't hold true with our interaction. I learned about her dietary and lifestyle beliefs as a result of finding common ground and enjoying a conversation. We also talked about how that joke illustrates what it can be like when encountering a Christian. I'm not sure where this friend stands on faith, but she understands what it's like to meet some Christians.

I have another friend who uses phrases like "I need to make sure I am Christian in my behavior." or "I shouldn't have done that, it isn't very Christian." Perhaps that is this friend's way of calibrating and viewing some faith discipline in their life. But even as a follower of Jesus I find it nauseating—maybe that's just me.

How we talk about our faith matters.

So often Christians live within their church's, and even their faith's echo chamber. Listening to themselves and their pew mates, within the church walls, reading their church books, without listening to others who may think or live differently. There's a saying in a lot of Christian circles, and maybe a verse in the bible about "iron sharpening iron." I've always assumed that meant when two Christians are "sharpening each other" within their own faith lives. But I think we can be sharpened by anyone we have an honest conversation with. Christian or not. We can learn and have our beliefs poked, prodded, and refined. And maybe we can learn a bit more about what it feels like when we approach people and share our faith.

You see, when we believe we're right about something, or that we've discovered something that is helpful to all, we want to share it. But our presentation matters. When we take something seriously, HOW we talk about it helps the seriousness of it's receptivity. If we don't consider HOW, when we step into situations to share our faith, our evangelism can seem like that vegan joke. "How do you know if someone is a Christian? They'll tell you."

We all evangelize something. Our eating habits. Our faith. Our politics. Our passion for dogs over cats. But how we do it matters so much if we want to be heard. So pay attention to your posture. Jesus did. He understood that if he had something cool to share with people, and they were really hungry, he'd better get them some food in their bellies first. He understood if he was talking with farmers, he better start with seeds and soil.

If we've got something we'd like to share, enter into a conversation, with both ears, not a script. We won't be heard until we listen. It requires a relationship, not an audience. We don't want the joke to be on us.

Chair and Chair Alike

I can remember at work a while back sitting in chairs in a conference room having many discussions about “the millennials” coming into the workplace. Like this new species was entering into our company. They were often categorized as “lazy,” or “entitled,” not wanting to work long days. They were selfish and demanded an environment that suited THEIR needs, verse the needs of the company (yes, younger folks, this was the conversation—yeesh). 

There we sat, me and my generation. Children of the 80s, or earlier. Old people. We sat in our chairs and looked at “those people,” talking about them, stuck within our category of context. As it is with most of life, we live from the context of “our chairs.” It drives our voice, our behavior, our motives, our attitude, our choices. And from this position, we dissect the voices, behaviors, motives, attitudes, and choices of others.

I wrote about contextual chairs a few years ago in a blogpost, but the metaphor is spot on. We often stay seated in these chairs of our context. But what if we got out of them? What if we opened our ears, eyes, and ideas? What can we learn when we listen to the voices, and participate in the lives of other generations?

At the very least, if we seek to understand we might realize that we may not actually have completed our education, know all the answers, and have all of life down pat.

One of the chairs I sit in is that of a father, raising two sons. Both remarkably different people.

My oldest son is that—my oldest. He has the blessing and curse (well, probably more curse) of parents who are learning as they go. Things have been hard at times for him as a result of parental trial and error. He is our household's attorney—argumentative and vocal. But he has taught me so much about listening—the practice of it. I’ve had to hone the skill of stepping out of myself and learning to listen to a viewpoint from a different person within a different generational context. Many times there is disagreement and discussion. But on the occasions when I am hearing his voice participating in a conversation with another adult, I enjoy his perspective and the beauty that comes from his context. I continue to learn from his argument and his voice.

My second son is quiet and introverted. Often my wife and I are curious as to what is rattling around in his brain. But his introversion obscures a discerning and courageous compassion. He speaks loudly through social platforms using eloquent, well-thought, well-crafted written points of view about all that is going on in our world. Particularly in the political and cultural spaces. I went with him to the March for Our Lives earlier this year. Throngs of people showed up with placards and bullhorns to let their voices be heard regarding their response to the frequency of school shootings, the lives lost, the impact of financial, political and policy influence, the people that held the guns, and the guns that held the bullets. We drank it in. We had some beautiful and challenging conversations. When we left he said “Thanks for taking me, Dad.”, and I said, “I didn’t take you. I came WITH you.” I continue to learn from his quiet and just heart.

But that’s just my little family—what about within Christian culture today? 

The chairs (pews?) within churches, Christian institutions, culture and theology, often are places that keep our behinds warm and comfy. And we rarely want to step up from those chairs. The comfort of our faith, understanding the bible, and knowing so much about living the Christian life can lead us to become a bit of a know-it-all. We hear a lot of people like this, don't we? We may actually be one of them.

While I acknowledge that a tenured life of faith produces perspective that is essential and life-giving to ourselves and others, we need to recognize that a contextual position in the pew has become ineffective. It has produced books, programs, how-tos, and quite frankly so much immobility and negativity that we’ve lost our ability to actually BE our faith. We’ve become reliant on what we know and what we’ve been told to guide our lives—and in turn, we’ve lost the glorious dynamic of steps and leaps of faith.

And as was the case within the conference room full of old people in an office, as well-meaning people of the Christian faith, when we stay in the chairs of our “Christian position" or generational understanding, we become benign. It lessens the enrichment of faith in our own lives and its expression into the lives of others.

Our chairs can turn us into rulers and rule-followers.

I think Jesus spoke of people who sat in certain chairs of the church—those who had a deep knowledge and behavioral understanding of the scriptures of the day—calling them a bunch of snakes. I wouldn’t want to be called a snake by anyone. Especially Jesus.

Bob Goff said something cool in his book Everybody Always where he wrote “We’re told by someone what God wants us to do and not do. … After long enough, what looks like faith isn’t really faith anymore. It’s just compliance.” I wonder if Jesus thinks we are like snakes too when we are compliantly seated in the chairs of our faith.

So let’s recognize the chairs we sit in and the responsibility that is required when we put our butts in them. But let’s also realize that our butts can fall asleep in them if we stay there too long.

Thoughts and Prayers

In today's divisive political and cultural climate the words "thoughts and prayers" are more and more under the microscope. And rightly so.

When looking at the "Christian intent" of these words, there is a lot to consider. Taken apart the word "prayer" is quite in alignment with the Christian faith. A belief that we are able to communicate with a creating God who interacts and intervenes in the world we live in. And the word "thoughts" are well...thoughts—things we think about.

Moses, Abraham, and many others had ongoing verbal back and forth with God. Trying to understand his intent, and asking for intervention in their's and other's circumstances. And Jesus prayed too. So in practice, if you believe so, prayer is a thing. And within the documented spaces of the bible, it is real. It takes the form of petition, praise, conversation and probably so much more.

But as people of the Christian faith—followers of Jesus—the actual use of these words have taken on a cautionary existence. Let's explore this a bit.

Christianity and Thoughts and Prayers: As outlined a bit above this is a part of the faith. While a practice, it is moreover a part of a relationship. It is an ongoing conversation with God. A pretty immense thing in that regard. A way of dialoguing with an omnipresent God who created us and everything around us. A God who loves us and wants that relationship with each of us. So we should talk with him.

Public Display and Thoughts and Prayers: This often overused statement while in many respects can be noble—in most others, not so much. It has been reduced to a status update. It has become a non-empathetic or ignorant way of passing along a position of compassion, then going on to the next thing. Or worse, it has become a lie frankly. A way of posturing to YOUR people or tribe. To show that YOU are aligned with THEM. So they will agree with and promote YOU. And the world is on to it.

Jesus and Thoughts and Prayers: This is where the rubber really meets the road. Particularly for people who want to follow the teachings of Jesus. While Jesus walked the earth he prayed (and I'm sure thought too). Mostly in private. To my knowledge (and I'm no theologian) the few times he prayed publicly were to show us how we should and shouldn't pray. And then sometimes to express thanks to God for something. Mostly his prayers were private. Not on public display, and most certainly without the intent to let everyone know that he was doing it. But in addition to those prayers, he acted. He served, healed, loved, fed, encouraged, sought justice, and disrupted the status quo—particularly within the church.

So if you call yourself a Christian, be discretionary with the use of the words. We need to know our audience. If it is a dear loved one or like-minded person who knows you and your heart's intention—and if you believe they will benefit in knowing that you are thinking and praying about them or for a particular situation—then please do so. But if that's not the case, go ahead and do it, but keep it to yourself. Like Jesus did.

And if you call yourself a Christian, perhaps you know in the book of James where the author writes "faith without works is dead". Yes, dead. As a doornail. Inactive, unbreathing, without life.

But gosh how much our world needs our deeds. How people need our love and our interactions. Our participation in conversation. Our service and support. Our selflessness. Start small if you wish, but start honestly. We've got to challenge our own status quo, in order to impact the status quo of others for good.

If you think I'm off base, please pray for me, but don't tell me about it.

The Problem in the Pews

Social media is littered with armchair advocates and antagonists. We are anchored in our knowledge and world view, but are influenced by news (real and fake), our ignorance, our allegiance, etc. We sit and survey and wait for something to instigate a reaction. We chime in with our own views accordingly (as I am doing here). The truth is that there is a lot of saying and not a lot of doing. And the “doing” can be parsed and sporadic. Or reactionary, or convenient. The same can be said of our churches.

The church* pew has become a bit of a stadium seat at a spectator sport. Or better yet, a shopping cart for us to put items into for our family’s consumption. We sit in our seats, listen to music, lift our hands (maybe), say a prayer, and hear a three-step sermon on how to be a better Christian. Then we go about our week. Taking the niceness we heard and perhaps were challenged by, and filling our carts with things about us.

And then there are the church leaders. Carrying the massive expectations put upon them to deliver for each of us every week. If they are off a bit, we whisper it to our pew neighbor. We consume and debate from our seats. Perhaps we are moved to reach out a hand to those in need. Maybe once or twice. Thank you, church leaders, for the nudge.

It says in the Bible that Jesus tells a story about a father with two sons and a vineyard “…he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ And he answered, ‘I will not,’ but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” He and his disciples agreed that it was the first son. Even though his expression wasn’t right, his heart and activity were. He even says that tax collectors and prostitutes will be in heaven instead of other religious sorts.

What do our activities say about our faith? What story does it tell others? Are we consuming our faith? Are we solely focused on our family? Are we going to church or being the church?

I’m asking myself this as I type…

*When I am discussing “church” or “faith” in this post, I am speaking generally from my past experience at an Episcopal church in the northeast, my current experience in metro-Atlanta white church pews, from a decent amount of insight and research on the Christian faith, as well as much healthy debate and conversations with people of various faith backgrounds and influences. To be clear, there are many wonderful people, churches, and organizations who are living out their faith in remarkable ways—with open doors and minds, listening ears, and extended hands.

An Ignorant Statement

Our social culture today is quick to point someone out as being ignorant. Often it is accompanied by words like “racist,” or “close-minded.” When someone tells you or anyone else that they are ignorant, it is usually said with venom. I think ignorance needs a bit of grace today. Because in reality, ignorance means having a lack of knowledge or being unaware. It is the space between one thing and another.

Now I’m not saying ignorance is not a contributing factor to racism or other social ills, but it may not be the unforgivable offense that people impose it to be. Most likely, it just needs to be made known, particularly by someone familiar. Otherwise, calling someone ignorant might be ignorant itself. Familiarity and relationship pack more punch when it comes to ignorance.

When the ignorant are made self-aware, that’s when things should get interesting. When someone we trust (particularly with a different life experience than us) opens up the conversation, that is when action needs to be taken, by “the ignorant one.” If we are made aware (graciously or not) we need to try to understand why. Ignorance is not a chair to sit in. It is a chair to stand up from and take steps towards a communal table. It is time to act. It is time to listen and learn.

So, don’t merely tell me that I am ignorant because if I am, I don’t know it. I am better off having someone help me, not tell me. I need some navigational assistance. I need someone to show me a different destination and to help me map my way.

If we see ignorance, bring it to light. But do it with grace. Ignorance needs a doorway, not a wall. A bridge, not a brick.

Float Your Boat

“You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it.” - Paulo Coelho

I saw this quote in a tweet from Banksy, but on further review it looks like it may have originated with Paulo Coelho. Nevertheless, it has been in my head and heart a lot lately. Particularly when it comes to the current state of the Christian faith, and everything wrapped up in what that is or is perceived to be.

You see, culture is like a raging river, moving and shifting through time. A river that in the past, many evangelicals have fought a war against—the culture war. Well, in many respects, that war is over. And culture didn’t lose.

You can no longer dig in your heals and fight a war against this river. Telling this river what is right and what is wrong. In a lot of respects*, your war strategy was laden with words over actions. With instruction over empathy. With finger-pointing over a mirror. With ignorance over understanding.

But it’s a new day. People are screaming for action over words. Empathy over instruction. Looking in the mirror—and looking again—before pointing a finger. We’ve got to increase our inputs to increase our understanding. Our children are demanding it. Our world is in need of it.

It says somewhere in the good book that, as followers of Jesus we are to be “in the world and not of it.” So don't stand against the river because you will surely drown. Choose the boat you will board to traverse the rapids. But be careful of what you pull into the boat with you. Don’t burden its buoyancy with ignorance and inactivity. Be aware of the river. Learn what others are doing to navigate the waters. Perhaps link up to boats that may not be exactly like yours and ride the rapids together.

* I know there are so many who’ve done good and continue to do good integrating, serving, and loving others within culture, but for this blog entry’s purposes I am talking in regard to what a lot of people in the world feel or experience.

Why Me?

In his classic Ted Talk on leadership and brand perspective, Simon Sinek shares that "people don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it." As someone who's lead teams and developed or promoted brands for two decades, I've learned to hold this perspective as a truth. And the most successful brands are those that have learned to uncover within themselves what the "why" is. And this "why" can't be fabricated or wished. It has to be honest. Surely this concept is not new, but its truth is timeless.

Sinek also has looked at leadership and determined that there are those in a position of leadership (and some in this position solely lead from rank and power), and there are "those who lead" (and these are the folks that have a clear "why" and inspire action from others).

So brands use their underlying makeup and truth to lead with their "why". And "those who lead" use their underlying makeup and truth to lead from their "why"—to lead with a purpose.

Uncovering your "why" may not be easy. It requires a lot of self-inspection, discovery, and some closet-cleaning. And often times, failures. But the outcome of uncovering your "why" is living and leading from a true sense of purpose.

So if you believe you're a leader, perhaps its worth a look at the folks following you. And ask yourself, "why are they following me?". Is it because of your position and power? Or your because of an inspiring "why"?

Church and State

I am not a historian. I am not a theologian. I am not a scholar.

The SCOTUS recently handed down a verdict legalizing gay marriage from sea to shining sea. The social media has been ablaze with both celebratory colorful flags, and equally scathing concern for where our beloved nation is headed.

For more than two centuries (again, I am no historian), our government has been looked to to uphold the laws of our land. Laws that historically and fairly recently have held all unequal (even though some documents that we've used to help craft our country say differently). And up until the last few decades, many in the church were big fans of our government and the job they were doing. And since the church was pretty much in agreement with the job our government was doing, they got lazy. So they voted and went about their Sunday's and got fat and happy.

There were a few decades where some folks realized the government (and in turn the church) weren't quite doing things very well, and at their own peril, began to hold up signs, sing songs, and walk across bridges. And these folks really started to bring about change in the government and its laws. And some of the church people were mad, said some things, then voted, and went on about their Sunday's getting fat and happy.

So it seems this SCOTUS verdict is another one of those things that has made church people mad. And now the church is once again saying a lot of things. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

You see, the church has slowly given their role to the government. And the government has been doing their darndest to do good work where the church has fallen short. Clothing the naked. Looking after the sick. Comforting the prisoners (Matt 25:36). Caring for the husbandless and fatherless (James 1:27).

Jesus never asked us to vote and go about our Sundays and get fat and happy. Jesus' asked us to be the church. To walk around and help people. To recognize our own inadequacies before others'. To show them and tell them about Him.

The separating of church from state needs to occur. It needs to happen to us. Jesus' church is people not pews. Jesus' church is engaged, active, aiding. And its high time we responded accordingly—clothing the naked—looking after the sick—comforting the prisoners—caring for the husbandless and fatherless.

I am not a historian. I am not a theologian. I am not a scholar. I am a sinner. I am mistake-prone. I am redeemed. I am ready. I AM CHURCH.

PLEASE NOTE: 1) Clearly many have done some amazing work as followers of Jesus, but this is a generalized commentary. 2) By no means do I want to trivialize the massive movement(s) to right a lot of wrongs in our nation. One that has been (and continues to be) filled with violence and blood. 3) This is written from my limited perspective as a white man whose pretty much attended a white church. Who has a limited understanding of American history, and some Bible knowledge.

Get Up and Go

I've worked places where I've had a position of leadership. Not the head honcho, but definitely had a seat at the table. When at the table you are privy to things. You hear a vision, and you have a relevant voice. When at the table, you also receive the benefits of the table. Whatever that looks like.

And the folks at the table have a perspective that's different from those who aren't. A table-sitter might assume that vision is shared, and things are known, when in reality that's not the case. Simply because one may be aware of something doesn't mean everyone is.

I can recall during a season of table-sitting, that I really lived a bit blind to thinking that there was a mutual understanding of things among everyone—when in fact there was not. It's just that I was in the know, so I figured everyone else was too. I was wrong.

You see, position can breed ignorance.

So here we are on July 26, 2015, about a week removed from the heinous killing in the AME Church in Charleston. On the heals of the McKinney Pool Party. On the heals of a lot of race-infused events. Media is ablaze about it. Status Updates are exploding with commentary. And here I am. A white guy. Trying to make sense of this.

I've watched Fox, CNN, and the local news. I've listened to NPR. I've viewed a bunch of online coverage. I've read a bunch of commentary. And talked to a lot of folks.

And I realize I've got a seat at the table. And that my seat has given me my perspective. And my perspective has caused me to live a bit blind to thinking that there was a mutual understanding of things among everyone—when in fact there was not. It's just that I was in the know (my know), so I figured everyone else was too. I was wrong.

You see, position can breed ignorance.

So what does someone with a seat at the table do about this? Step away from the table.

The other day, there was a woman I heard interviewed. She was speaking about how we can positively impact race relations. She said things like, we shouldn't be lazy about this. We should call it out when we hear it (and not ignore it). We should put ourselves in places that cause thought, discussion, and change—those uncomfortably risky places.

Now the Bible-believing churches are commanded to love and serve. To build a kingdom that is not of this world. To go to Nineveh. However, lots of us who call ourselves Christians simply sit around the tables of our faith. We're comfortable in our chairs. And from these chairs, we establish truths and points of view, we post and hashtag, and we cast our ballots—we do what we do.

You see, position can breed ignorance. Step away from the table, Christian.

"I will show you my faith by my works." - James 18

A Weak Link?

I was in a group discussion around the benefits of LinkedIn and the unabashed and seemingly unqualified connections some people develop. While the proponents of this in the discussion had valid points that seem to back up this theory, I for one can't quite get my arms around it—around the fact that I am connecting with people that I don't know, via some folks that I only kinda know....maybe—all under the umbrella of experience, expertise, and qualification.

Perhaps this will lead to my professional demise. 

Now, I am not good with names (just ask my wife), but am with faces and personalities. And some technological things seem off-putting. So maybe that's why this tactic of connecting seems unauthentic to me. I need to be connected with people, not profiles. Maybe this profile connecting will turn into people connection, but I've not seen much fruit from that tree as of yet—although I admit I am (perhaps hypocritically) trying to water it.

Many of us have become disenfranchised with social media, yet continue to play along. And now, I do it in a professional sense. I've probably even emailed or messaged a few who are reading this with the impetus for connecting being a business possibility. But what I'm finding is that you can't change a tiger's stripes, and if I am a relational being (which I am), I require relationship, and not simply transaction.  

Networking is weird, and seems one-sided. I have been to events that encourage an "others first" methodology, wherein you see how you can help someone before you help yourself. They mean it. And I get that. And I try to do that. But the social/online piece seems counter intuitive to the legitimacy of this practice.

Simon Sinek said "Companies don't do business with companies. People do business with people." This I understand and embrace. If we are able to be "people" online and not simply profiles—if we actually post with authenticity, right intention, and real point of view, and not simply to be "seen"—maybe online humanity stands a chance.

Makes me want to update my LinkedIn profile a bit.

Soul Proprietorship

As a former creative team member, who sat among other agency creatives, I am finding being a "creative-at-large" an interesting transition. I am learning the blessings and curses of sole proprietorship. And solo creativity.

Being alone (with the acceptation of my cat that has a propensity to affectionately bite me) in the office is different. I find it a great way to focus on the task at hand without interruption. But find that it needs to be counterbalanced with a nomadic work-style—drinking a lot of coffee, in a lot of different places, with a lot of different people.

A proprietorship is loosely defined as "a business that has no separate existence from its owner." So, this sole proprietorship has my business with no separate existence from me. I am my business. And therefore, I'm discovering that it requires feeding my soul to remain sole. I must feed my soul with family, friends, inspiration, and Faith. And with a fed soul, I go well about my days.

So thanks to all of you who serve up some good eats.

"When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart's delight, for I bear your name, LORD" - Jeremiah 15:16

See You Later, Later

I recently had someone share the Mark Twain quote "There has been much tragedy in my life; at least half of it actually happened."

I mean, that's how we do things a lot. We worry about what's ahead. Then we fear. Then we focus on the fear. Then we have to manage that fear. I wrote about a month ago (Change Management) about living in the day—the moment. Those 12 step programs have it right. We are to take one day at a time. The tragedy within a futuristic tragedy is not only the fact that we short-come the day itself, and our impact within it, but our focus is off. And it is now on some ghost we choose to chase.

A former colleague stated "The minute you focus on the competition, you've already lost." Perhaps some famous coach uttered those words, but I don't recall. Essentially this means, you're not at your best—better yet, WE'RE not at our best—because your focus is not on the task at hand. You are not paying attention to right now. You're head may be in the game, per se, but it's not on the play we're currently trying to complete.

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself." - Matt 6:34

Fantastic February

I'd like to thank everyone who's helped make a fantastic February (yes, I realize we're already into March a bit, but as you can see, I've been busy)

Me Too

Know thyself. As someone who's spent a decent amount of time walking around on this planet, I find myself learning more and more about myself. I believe I've got a pretty good idea about a lot of it. Over that last few years, heck, few months, who I am is coming further to bear.  I've had the privilege of walking through this self-discovery with a handful of people. Those people have been able to not only help me identify myself, my fears, and my gifts, but have also celebrated its application. 

Marcus Buckingham, when speaking about strengths, shared something along the lines of us not always having to play to our strengths, but rather, we need to live where we feel strong. I love this. The idea of playing to strengths, while it sounds good, there is almost a cost benefit component that is off-putting. But living where and doing what makes me feel strong is invigorating—it brings life!

I touched on this sort of thinking not too long ago with the blog post Unassigned. In it, I discussed the need to live out who we are, not what people say we should be. That said, I am wondering how much of me is too much. As I've been about this Goodwill Tour and have been...well...marketing me, I've been involved in a couple of conversations wherein we discussed a line that could be crossed between living into totally who I was created to be and losing the "created" piece of it. You see, I believe I was created by God to be Rick. This gives me position. Position under God. A position and humility that is core to who I am. A position that allows me to truly know who I am, and to live into it.

So as I am touring and marketing myself, there is a fine line that could be crossed that would remove me from that position—that core position. And oddly, I'd lose myself in the process. And I know I have a propensity to cross that line.

Ben Franklin said "Observe all men; thy self most." I pray I stay alert to that line. And if I don't, I am fortunate to have a wonderful bride who can spot too much me from quite a distance.

What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self? - Luke 9:25

Grey Scale

I was watching a Ted Talk by photographer and artist iO Tillet Wright that she calls 50 Shades of Gay in which she shares how she's chronicled photos of varied people with varying degrees of sexual preference. She explains that there are many grey areas and degrees of sexual preference. Some totally prefer same sex. Some totally prefer opposite. And there are many in between.

It got me thinking about that type of "grey scale" that we apply to our relationships. Take for example your friends. We could probably apply some sliding scale to them from best and most intimate, to good for 15-to-20 minutes of interaction. Still friends, but of various grey tints. And there is most likely slim margin in between some. I'd imagine there are tipping points that move a friend from one space along the line to another.

To shift these relationships along the scale we must identify moments. Moments of sharing, vulnerability, and transparency. Moments that might be occurrence or event-related. And moments of spontaneous response.

Are we tuned in enough to recognize moments within a relationship to adjust the scale? And will we boldly invest in it? Often times emotional involvement and time investment are sticky things. Things that we don't allow to happen because, frankly, they may take to much away from "me".

Life impact is often given and received when we choose to refocus from "me" to "we". Regardless of the "shade" of the other.

"Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act." - Proverbs 3:27

Goodwill Tour

So I am in the beginning (I think beginning) stages of what I've billed as the "Rick Fossum Goodwill Tour". Or what other's might call networking. While there is clearly motive to find work and someone who will pay me for doing it, I've had an additional, and perhaps greater intention—to establish, build, or rebuild relationship. So far so good.

What is interesting is that there have been different points of "last time we'd spoken" with a bunch of people. Some as old as 15 years or more. This has given me the opportunity to share a storyline of multiple lengths dependent upon where and when some folks were last involved in "the book". This has been rewarding. As a communicator and storyteller by nature, I enjoy sharing the updates and in some cases final chapters to the book.

As I am about this new adventure, I am learning more about relationship. It requires time, trust, love, and action. I believe God created us to be in relationship—with Him and with others. In relationship there is risk. In relationship there is reward. In relationship we come alive.

I'm grateful for those of you who've thus far been a "tour stop", and am looking forward to future dates at different venues.

Change Management

Things have changed. I've spent the last decade or so working for a marketing agency in metro Atlanta. Recent business realities have purposed me into a new space. The space of the creative who doesn't have a day job. In certain circles, the freelancer. In others, the unemployed. This is new space for me. My professional career has shifted. It has changed.

The company I was with has been walking through immense change over the last few years. During so, there'd been lots of conversation around "change management". This essentially is discussion around how are we going to handle this change organizationally. How will this impact our people. How can we intercept fear, and replace it with understanding and a call to charge the hill. And over the years, I've been a part of "managing" through change. But what I am realizing THIS DAY is that change is not something that is managed. It is something that you do.

I've had the privilege to talk to some amazing people over the last few weeks as I've driven all over Atlanta and caught up with some folks. A lot of whom have asked me "What would you like to do now?". I am uncovering my answer day-by-day, and am realizing that I don't know "what I would like to do now", but that I want to simply "do now."

There's uncharted territory ahead, and I don't know what the future holds, but I am confident in Who holds my future. This is a confidence I believe I have had, but it feels a little different now. And my task is to not live beyond now. If I am living outside this moment, I am not living in it.

There's a lot to do now.

Unassigned

A while ago I was having breakfast with a friend of mine. A good portion of our conversation circled around as he put it (to paraphrase) "so many people feel that we are given these cultural and social assignments that we must live into." And thats a shame.

Some of these "assignments" may be the Businessman who's reputation must be impeccable, to be seen as a beacon in society and keep him elevated above regular people. Or the Suburban Wife/Mom who's got to make sure her kids are seen as doing oh-so-well in school, and excelling at sports to one-up the Joneses. Or the the Urban Youth who feels he's got to wear the saggy pants, and carry a standoffish attitude to be accepted by his peers. Or the Coffeshop Hipster who's got to make sure he knows enough about craft cocktails and microfinancing in Africa to appear socially relevant.

So this has had me thinking about the role of the individual. Not really a role, but moreover our individual meaning here on earth. We let so many outside influencers tell us who and what we should be. When we are simply called to be ourself.

I believe God created us each uniquely. Put us on this planet as a unique human being. And that when we are so influenced by a perceived "assignment", we steer away from ourselves, and miss our mark. Moreover, our Maker's mark (not the bourbon). And that's a big miss.

In the The Brady Bunch Movie (or perhaps its sequel), Marsha gave her husband Wally a bit of encouragement. Wally was apologizing to the Brady family for lying about a job loss* in order to keep the family unaware. So Wally said he was sorry, to which Marsha replied, "Don't be sorry, just be Wally."

Yes, corny encouragement from Marsha, but dead on. Don't lie about YOU because you think others will think differently or poorly of you, or because you feel you've got to fulfill some "assignment".

I won't fulfill any "assignment". I will fulfill "me".




* I believe this was the reason for his apology. And if not, just go with it as it really works for what I'm trying to get across.