Waking Up With A Smile

After three Sunday morning sermons, my brain just about ceases to function on Sunday afternoons. The "traditional" Sunday afternoon nap (do you do that in other countries?) was taken yesterday out of raw necessity. It was like I passed out for a solid hour.

Awaking, I got out of bed and stumbled my way into the living room. Before I even sat down, Cathy's phone rang and in was our Boston daughter wanting to know if we could talk on the video cam.

The moment of the connection, we could hear our two-year-old granddaughter, M, explain to her mom (in very adult fashion), "If Sampa is taking a nap, I can just talk to Grammy."

My paternal grandparents lived less than 100 miles away when I was growing up. The most consistent way to communicate with them was via the U.S. Mail. Now we can visit grandchildren well over 1,000 miles away at the click of a button.

And, yesterday, seeing that beautiful little face sure gave me a smile as I shook the cobwebs from my brain.

Never mind that she mostly wanted Grammy!

"I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet..."

But am I a leader?

I will never forget that day. I sat on my bedroom floor full of questions and concerns. A few days earlier I had heard a world class leader speak about leadership. I was intimidated, fearful, and challenged.

At that point in my life, I had been a pastor for a number of years. But was I a leader? The question, I felt, was critical as I tried to make good choices for my future.

You see, small churches often have pastors who do a large variety of tasks. They are like chaplains, counselors, teachers, preachers, servants, intercessors, evangelists and administrators rolled into one. Many of them even turn out the lights and lock the doors after every church meeting. The vast majority of the churches in this country are still small enough that this model of the "general practitioner" pastor is the one many people think of every time they see a clergyperson. And what would we do without them?

Something happens, though, as a church starts to grow. They need to add other staff who pick up many of the specialized areas of work. They also have to recruit and train volunteers to a more acute serving focus. All of this requires some management skills, but -- ultimately -- the need of skilled leadership keeps increasing. That's the concern that drove me to my bedroom floor that day.

My position on the floor shouldn't be given some spiritual interpretation. I was on the floor because it was comfortable. I could sit, lay with a book in front of me and move around as needed. (Besides, I live in the desert and the floor is often cooler!)

"Am I a leader?" I asked (both myself and God). It was time to be brutally honest with the answers. An interesting verse in Romans says, "Leaders should lead." The context of the passage is that God gives gifts to the church and we should use the ones God gives us as individuals. Did I have that gift of leadership? Or was I deceiving myself and negatively impacting the work of our local church? Possibly, it was time to find another place to serve.

I am nearly two decades from that day. I remember assessing my life up until then. I recalled that, from childhood, I had often led in various settings. I led at church, at school and among friends. I realized that I had always been comfortable leading. In fact, I often wanted to lead as I watched others hesitate.

I really haven't ever been a puppet. Or a pauper, a pirate or a poet. But I came to the conclusion that God designed me to lead.

I've been working to get better at it ever since.

What did God design you to do?

Writing Takes More Than Fingers

I have been away from Dwell & Cultivate for a couple of days. It wasn't my original intention to do so, but ministry happens at the speed of life. And writing takes more than fingers.

Now, before any of you imagine me sitting at my Macbook attempting to type with my toes, that's not what I'm talking about. Good writing, the kind that pulls the reader to the printed word, contains some emotion. Joe Friday would say, "Just the facts, ma'am; just the facts." But, while I'm certain that Joe was concise with his Dragnet police reports, I question whether we would have read one of his novels (not that he wrote any!).

So, my lack of posts for the past few days has been purely because my emotional writing well was dry. Yes, they were those kinds of days.

But I plan to be back tomorrow. I am always honored that you take time to read.

Need A Little Help, Friends

I am doing some informal research on how easy or how difficult it is for people to "be themselves" in small groups. Could you describe yourself in that area?

If possible, I would love to hear your story about why it's "no problem" for you to open up in a group. Or why do you it terribly difficult to open up?

If, for the sake your your privacy, you would prefer to email me your story, please do so at the following address:

sam (at) stoneridgechurch (dot) com.

I will not use your information in any embarrassing way. I will not identify you if I tell a portion of your story (unless you give me permission in advance).

Thanks!

When Life Goes "Tilt"

One of my friends recently walked into his workplace and was told to go home. After years of faithful service in a management position, he was simply sent away. Another of my friends is in jail because she won't divulge information -- information she says she doesn't know. (I have known her a long time and I believe her.)

I heard last night of yet another young woman who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. She is the fourth within my circle (and the only one I don't know personally) diagnosed in the past six months. Still another friend has to be in court today -- defending himself for something he didn't do.

I could go on. I am amazed at the pain just in my little corner of the globe.

"3 He was despised and rejected—
a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.
He was despised, and we did not care.

4 Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;
it was our sorrows that weighed him down."

(Isaiah 53:3-4 New Living Translation)

The Vulnerable Little Mind

I had a conversation yesterday with a senior Border Patrol official. He told me about a speaker he recently heard. I can't begin to quote the statistics and resources the official gave me, so let me sum it up like this...

If you have small children, cut off their exposure to brutal violence in television, movies and video games. Otherwise, you are risking more than you can imagine.

I keep hearing appalling stories about parents who take their young children to R-rated, shockingly-violent movies. Please. Just don't.

The Literal (little) Mind

One of my good friends serves our country. At times his duty calls and he must go. Soon, "go" will mean a deployment and many months of separation from his family. He and his wife tried to explain that to their 4-year-old. You know, 4! That age when a little one is just understanding the meaning of "Daddy will be gone a long time."

"Why, daddy? I don't want you to go!"

"Because, son, it's my duty."

"What's duty, daddy?"

"Well, son, that means it's my job and I have to go."

"But (whimpering) daddy, I don't WANT you to go!"

"Son, if daddy doesn't go, I would have to go to jail."

Daddy told his son the truth, but there's one problem...

...a 4-year-old is now telling people that his daddy is going to jail.

And he will be gone a looooong time!