It is not good…for Joe to post alone!
Hello to all who so graciously read some of my posts. My heart is warmed when I hear from friends and colleagues that they have read something I’ve written here. I’m also hearing second hand that people have read the posts on this site. It’s fabulous! Thank you!
But I’m finding that I don’t work all that well in a vacuum. I’ve probably had at least fifteen different people tell me they had read some of the posts here and another dozen who have said they know of others who mentioned they also had.
And yet the number of comments readers have posted after reading a blog post (not counting the few friends who cheered us on in the first week after I got the site up) is hovering around…oh…one! Only one person has posted a comment to anything I’ve written.
I need you. I need your feedback. Answer one of the questions I post. Tell me what you liked about what I’ve written, or how God has spoken to you through the experiences I describe. Even if you think what I say is misguided or irrelevant! I need some feedback to stay connected. I also would like to make new connections.
So, please use the little box at the bottom of the posts to let me know you’re out there. Thanks!
Pastor Joe
Letting Go of What Once Was
When I left my church staff position in March of this year, I left behind my “Dream Team.” This was the group of people I know God had brought around me in order to accomplish His purposes, in me, in each of them, and for the Kingdom. What we had was special. We had developed what I believe was a really unique balance of personal care and professional respect for one another.
Now since we all worked in care ministry together, I was sure that, although the transition time would be hard, we would all get through it relatively unscathed. And even though we were no longer a ministry team, we would easily maintain the same relationships we had enjoyed for years…one-to-one relationships as well as for the group as a whole.
For the first month or two, that was the case. We called, emailed, met for coffee and lunch, planned some group gatherings, just like we always had. For the next couple of months the interaction seemed to slow a bit. I was tempted to think that things had changed, but I knew that couldn’t be the case for the Dream Team.
And then in the last month, some conflict arose. Out of nowhere I found myself in an argument with one of the former team members I was closest to. We were at odds over an incident involving the church where that person is still part of the staff, and where I am not. This person with whom I had once seen eye-to-eye with on so many things, who had faced trouble arm-in-arm with me was now on the other side of the fence from me and we were arguing over who was supposed to trim the overhanging branches.
I’m normally the first one to welcome a conflict, to want to get to the bottom of a disconnect, especially if I’m involved in it. But this time it was different. This person…these people (there was a subset of the team present during our disagreement), were suddenly unable to connect with me. I couldn’t be brought back to center. I left feeling hurt and angry. (And I felt certain my former colleague on the other side of the fence was leaving the same way.)
For the next week I thought of the incident constantly. What was going on? What happened to these relationships that I held so dear? What happened to the Dream Team? Within the second week following the disagreement I was able to get together with that person, at the prompting of another former Dream Team member, and we talked through what had happened. We parted friends and made plans to meet for coffee as soon as we could. But I knew something had changed.
The following week I had a one-to-one meeting with another member of the Dream Team. I shared the basic details of my reconciliation meeting, then I processed the whole thing with this person. I expressed remaining confusion over what had happened, both during that disagreement and since. I just didn’t get it.
But, the person I was meeting with had no trouble hitting the nail on the head. “We were all trying to hang on to something special we had, but it’s over and we can’t get it back.” I wanted to argue, to counter, to prove the person wrong. But I couldn’t find an ounce of energy or a single word to do that. The words rang true. I hated to admit it, but they did.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks trying to understand how I could have missed it…how I could have thought that the special chemistry, the unique relationships the team had, with one another and as a whole could be preserved. We all knew God had brought us together to do His work. I knew it more than anyone and as their leader, I reminded them of that fact at least every week for years.
I’ve known for a long time that sometimes a thing has to die before a new beginning can be seen. I’ve experienced it, I’ve shared it, I’ve taught it. But sometimes life catches us by surprise. In this case, I was too close to the loss of what had been so special to see it objectively. I’ll always love these people as much as I could love any family member. And I’ll give thanks for the rest of my life that God gave me the privilege of working with them. And now that I’m beginning to accept that the Dream Team as we knew it has to die, I can be on the lookout for the new beginnings God has in store for each of us, not according to our plans, but according to His.
Are there things that you’re holding on to that you know you should let go? Things you’re breathing life into that perhaps you should let die? What are they?
Carrying Grief Too Long
At a wedding I officiated recently I was reminded of how lengthy the grieving process can be. When I met with the couple prior to the wedding to discuss the specifics of the ceremony, the bride asked me if I would make sure to mention her sister, who had passed away nearly ten years ago. Another sister, who had been very young at the time of the loss was taking the deceased sister’s place as Maid of Honor. But the bride asked me to acknowledge the sister who had passed as the “Maid of Honor in Spirit.” I believe that honoring the significant people we have lost at special occasions like weddings is a wonderful way to pay tribute to them and to keep their memory alive, so I was happy to fulfill the request.
In the opening prayer at the ceremony, I gave God thanks for the life of the sister who died, and for the spirit of love that surrounded her memory on that special day and always. As is often the case when praying for a lost loved one, I could feel the weight of the words on the congregation. But it felt very appropriate given what I was praying for and once the prayer was concluded, the wedding proceeded in joyous fashion.
After the ceremony, while I was waiting to have my picture taken, I ventured across the patio on which the wedding had been held in order to talk with the bride’s parents. The girl’s father shook my hand and thanked me for officiating, and for every word I said, especially for the acknowledgment of his late daughter. He then said that the bride had not given him or anyone else a heads-up that she had asked me to mention her sister in the ceremony. I realized what a shock it must have been to hear me pray for her unexpectedly. I apologized and said that if I had realized the bride had not told them about her request, I would have certainly made an effort to clue-them-in myself before the ceremony.
At that point the man gestured to his youngest daughter, who had been the stand-in Maid of Honor. I believe she was around ten years old. She had her face in her hands and she was crying. Her mother was sitting next to her with her arm around the girl’s shoulder. I apologized again to the dad for shocking the family by bringing up their loss without warning. He said, “It’s O.K. The feelings had to come out some time anyway.” I know he was referring mostly to his young daughter’s feelings of loss for the sister she had barely known. But there was also something in his expression that told me he was speaking not just for her, but for the whole family. In other words, my strong sense was that grief was just below the surface for them much of the time. At that point he traded places with his wife, with whom I then had a similar conversation. Finally, I offered my sympathies to the little girl before taking my place with the newlyweds for picture time.
On my drive home I thought a great deal about the dad’s comment. It seemed likely that after suffering the tragic death of a child, and a sister, this family had probably gone the way of so many people – they had never fully grieved their loss. Of course, a loved one who passes away will never, nor should ever be forgotten by the people they leave behind. And even if the person is in the oft-referenced “better place,” meaning heaven, it is a simple fact that they will never again walk the earth with the people who loved them, never celebrate another birthday or Christmas, never attend another wedding. There will always be an empty spot in the hearts of those who were closest to the deceased. But, nine years is a long time for tears of loss to be lurking just below the surface of the survivors’ emotions.
The experience brought to mind one of my seminary classes which focused on ministering to those who had been touched by loss. At some point in the class our professor had each of us share something in our lives which we were actively grieving. I shouldn’t have been surprised (and yet I was) that each and every one of the fifteen or so class members was in a grieving process over something significant. Many were dealing with deaths, some with a divorce or other broken relationship, some with a loss due to a serious health issue they or someone they knew was facing, and so on. But every single one of us, the professor included was grieving something.
What makes it so hard to let go of our losses? At most every funeral I conduct I encourage the family members to allow themselves and one another to grieve, “no matter how long it takes.” By that I mean they should be sad, as sad as they need to be, for as long as that sadness may last; that they should not rush their grief, nor tell others they have grieved long enough and should be “over it”. I want to make sure they know that no one can decide for them what “long enough” looks like.
At the same time, I do believe that grieving is a process, which in part means that it moves along a continuum. My partner in ministry Allen Eaton says asks people, “How do you rate your grief, if a 1 means you’re totally fine and 10 means you’re so sad you can’t get out of bed.” The idea that follows is that day-by day, a healthy grieving process moves incrementally from a higher number to a lower one. If a person is stuck at a grief level of 7 for a year, they’re probably not moving through a healthy process and may be stuck.
Thinking of grief as a burden we must carry, my mind goes to Matthew 11. Jesus tells us to exchange burdens with Him, to let him teach us how to live life, to take on his light load and give him the heavy load we carry (11:28-30). He felt everything we feel, including grief. He can teach us how to grieve.
There are few burdens greater than the one we carry when we lose a person we love. Even if we’re confident in the deepest part of our being that we’ll be reunited with them in heaven, they still won’t be with us in this life again. If we give our yoke of grief to Jesus daily, He will help us move from a 10 to a 1 on the continuum. And He will do that in His time, in the time of the Father, which is perfect.
What losses have you suffered? Where are you on the grief continuum for each? Is there something that keeps you from turning that burden over to Jesus? What is holding you back?
Who are Your Mentors?
This past weekend my wife and I went to see Julie & Julia, the new movie about a woman who decides to spend a year blogging through Julia Child’s book, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. As a quick aside, the movie is delightful. Meryl Streep plays Julia Child and Amy Adams plays Julie Powell, the aforementioned blogger.
In an attempt to focus energy on something she loves (cooking), Julie decides to cook her way through every recipe in Julia Child’s first book over the course of one year, while at the same time writing a daily blog about the ups and downs of the endeavor. During that year Julie learns an enormous amount about cooking, about Julia Child, and about herself. She spends so much time with Julia via her books and videos that she establishes what to her is a significant relationship with the famous cook. For Julie, it is a relationship with a woman she has never met, but who nonetheless influences her life in a very deep way.
As I reflected on the movie I was reminded of some of the people I would call mentors in my own life. I’ve always been aware that God put people in my life who would direct and guide me in a special way, who would listen and offer feedback, who would share themselves with me. I also know that God has put others in my life to accomplish pretty much the same things, even though I never knew those people personally. And I can honestly say that those people have had nearly as much impact on me as those I’ve actually done life with for a time.
In my early years in business in the ’80s I discovered Dale Carnegie’s books and training courses. This man, who passed away in 1955, did more than anyone else with the exception of my wife in shaving off some of my very rough edges. Sales gurus like Brian Tracy and Tom Hopkins taught me that it was o.k. to bring a sales presentation to a close and actually ask for an order without being pushy or unprofessional.
Zig Ziglar was another author and speaker who showed me a vision of life that I desperately needed. I was never really wired to be a “sales guy”, but that was my profession for a number of years and Zig Ziglar helped me adjust my attitude in ways that no boss ever could. And even though I never met Zig, nor even saw him speak in person, he influenced more than just my work life. He also spoke into my spiritual life at a time when I was very far from God.
I was traveling somewhere in the U.S. and my long-distance mentor was speaking in Chicago. Since I could not attend, my wife Cheryl went to see him in my place. Afterward Zig was signing autographs and Cheryl approached him with my copy of his best known book, See You at the Top. She didn’t say anything about my spiritual condition, rather she simply told him that he had been a big influence on her husband’s life and that I was out in the field putting his teaching into practice. Without further conversation, he took the book from her and wrote, “Joe, I’ll see you at the top! Zig.” And for no rational reason I have ever been able to figure, underneath his signature Zig Ziglar wrote, “Eph 2:8-9.” Cheryl stepped aside and watched him sign more books for people, but she didn’t see him write that verse for anyone else. Apparently God wanted to use Zig to clue me in to the fact that there was only one way I could be saved.
But the most significant flesh-and-blood mentor God has put in my life is someone I have seen speak in person many, many times and whose taped messages I’ve listened to endlessly for nearly twenty years. In addition, I have actually met him and shaken his hand. In fact, I worked on his church staff for nearly seven years.
One particular summer, going back maybe nine years, I was a volunteer leader at this man’s church and I was working through a leadership study with two other leaders. One was a volunteer like me and the other a staff member. Approximately halfway through the study we came to the chapter on mentors. The key question for that lesson was, “Who has been the most significant mentor in your life?” All three of us had the same answer: “The most significant mentor in my life has been Bill Hybels.”
Even though I no longer work on Bill’s staff at Willow Creek, even though I only interacted face-to-face with him a few times (the longest interaction lasting maybe five minutes), I can still honestly say that no individual has been more of a mentor in my life. A series of his messages helped me reconcile my head and my heart, which brought me across the line of faith in 1991. His teaching on leadership helped me greatly to co-lead the company Cheryl and I used to own. His concept of the “Kingdom Dream Team” gave me a vision for the power of like minded individuals working together for a common purpose, which was a huge part of the equipping I needed to build and lead both volunteer and staff teams at Willow. He taught me to be a coach of others, because of the way he coached me from the stage at Willow and through his message tapes. And most importantly, more than anyone else, Bill taught me what it meant to be a fully devoted follower of Jesus Christ.
Who are the mentors in your life? Are they people who you have actually “done life” with, or have they influenced you long distance? Either way, I encourage you to thank God for putting those people on earth, and for using them to help shape who you are and who you are becoming.
Care in a Time of Loss: Thank You Dale Carnegie
One of my top 5 Personality Themes (or Strengths, according to my favorite personality assessment tool, StrengthsFinder by Buckingham and Clifton) is Connectedness. The authors describe the Strength in this way: People strong in the Connectedness theme have faith in the links between all things. They believe there are few coincidences and that almost every event has a reason. I see connections – between one person and another, between people groups, between situations, between the present and the past.
This past weekend I had the honor of officiating a funeral service for a man I had never met. As is often the case, I believe God used me to provide a service that honored and celebrated the man’s life, helped his family and friends begin a healthy grieving process, linked his life with the legacy he left behind and made lovingly clear my belief that there is only one way to Heaven (Jesus Christ). By the end of the service, I’m confident that the family and friends of the man who had passed away felt their loved one was celebrated in a very personal way. But sometimes I wonder how I’m able to meet family members for a brief time, then shortly thereafter speak about a person I’ve never met in a way that makes those that loved them feel a fitting tribute has been paid.
As I pondered this the day after the funeral, I was reminded of something I learned 25 years ago when I first read Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People: Express sincere interest in others. Way back then I internalized this concept and it has helped me in all my years in business, in ministry and life in general. I think the key to the idea is the word sincere.
I realized when I was delivering the message about the deceased that I really meant what I was saying. Shortly before I came up to speak, I had learned as much as I could about the man’s life from his family. Then, when I stood before the funeral attendees, I simply recapped what I had been told. And I was able to deliver that recap with sincerity, because I sincerely believed what I was saying. I guess that’s another form of connectedness. Through the eyes of this man’s family, I was able to see into the lives of so many other families and individuals I’ve known. I was even able to see parallels with my own life.
Because of those connections, I was able to speak honestly and passionately. Even though I had never met the man who died, I knew him through the experiences of others. I understood the loss the family was feeling, because I’ve cared for others who have suffered great loss and because I’ve suffered loss myself. And of course, just as God brought people to care for me when I needed it, He used me to care for this family in their time of need.
I feel greatly blessed that I am able to see points of connection between people, circumstances, the past, present and future. And I’m so fortunate that God can use things I learned 25 years ago to bless people today! Thank you, Dale Carnegie. And thank you, God!
