Pilgrimage of the Heart - By Jeff Goins - Church, missions, and the kingdom of God

The Importance of Prayer in Decision-Making

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

One of my best friends is facing some major life decisions, and he feels stuck. He knows what he would like to do, but isn't sure if it's wise or not. He's struggling to know God's will in this situation, and it's really bothering him.

I told him to pray.

Duh. (Typical Christian answer, right?)

But here is where many of us do a disservice to prayer -- we formulate in our brains what we want to do, then run it by God to get his nonverbal consent. We don't pray with an open mind. We certainly don't persevere through deliberate fasting and crying out to God. Rather, at the first of whim of the Spirit's "leading" us to do what we originally planned, we go do it.

That's not biblical.

My friend was praying and didn't sense God saying anything. He was reading the Bible and found a few passages that seemed relevant, but they didn't give him specific answers. He was getting desperate.

"I'm just going to eventually have to make a decision," he told me on the phone the other day. "I mean, God gave me a brain, right?"

"Dude," I said. "I don't mean to poke holes in your theology, but where in the Bible does it say that?"

"Nowhere," he admitted. I agreed with him and apologized if it sounded like I was browbeating him. Look at Moses, Abraham, Paul, Jesus, Peter, and others. They all eagerly sought the Lord and heard a specific answer.

I told my friend that I knew it was tough, but I encouraged him to press in just a little more and see if God had something to say. I told him to pray... and to listen. I shared with him the basics of listening prayer, something that we practice pretty regularly at AIM (especially on mission trips). He texted me the next day, wanting to talk about some questions he had.

Oh crap, I thought. He's still not getting it...

But that wasn't the case. He was struggling, because God was speaking. The Lord was telling my friend to do some pretty radical, risky things. And it scared him.

I think it scares most of us, honestly. We'd rather have a religion. We'd rather have rules to follow and a code of conduct to which we can conform.

Instead, we're called to a relationship -- now that's a dangerous, messy, scary thing. And it's precisely what the Creator of the universe desires to have with us. He wants to commune with us. To have a conversation. A life together.

If you haven't heard God's voice (this can present itself in a myriad of ways, but never as a replacement of Scripture), I'd like you to reconsider your theology. Consider that it may not be because he's not speaking. Rather, it might be because you're scared to listen.

Why We Go On Mission Trips

Tue, 16 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

We go on mission trips to find ourselves -- that truest part of "us" that we wouldn't otherwise know or be able to tap into. We don't go on mission trips to save people, to help the "less-fortunate," or to feel good about ourselves.

We go, because we are the less-fortunate. We are the weak and broken vessels, needing to be filled with the glory of the divine. We go because we have to go in order to be complete.

And yet...

When we go as humble servants, the poor and needy are served, the hungry are fed, and those who are wandering are found.

But we have to go as pilgrims. We have to admit that we know nothing and ask God to move in and through us. We have to acknowledge our own spiritual poverty -- our utter inability to help anyone or do any good -- in order to be of any good.

Last week, I got to meet a group of pilgrims who approached their spring break mission trip with fear and trembling. They were open to the possibility that everything they know about God was incomplete; they were ready to have their worlds shaken.

And God used them -- precisely because of their humility, I believe.

This is the new generation of Jesus-followers -- radically-committed disciples who are devoted to being stretched and challenged and walking with Jesus, not just trudging behind him. They understand their identity and authority and are excited about gaining their inheritance in the kingdom.

One such radical is Amy, who wrote about the first day of last week's trip here. Another was Jeremy, who learned how to stop seeing homeless people as homeless people. "They're just people," he would say. Another is Sara, who shared: "The fact is, what Christ is doing in me is something so much bigger than me... We ARE the Kingdom. Wherever we step we are planting seeds..."

I've written about missions as pilgrimage before, but I really want to drive something home today: There is no other way to do a successful mission trip. If you do not go as a learner, then you are nothing more than a resource-hogging gringo doing little good.

Maybe we shouldn't just approach mission trips like this, but life as whole. Oh, that we would...

Photo courtesy of Steph Connors.

Saying Spiritual Goodbyes: "See You In Heaven"

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Last week, towards the end of our mission trip, I warned the group of awkward goodbyes and forcing closure. I told them that when a mission trip truly has its intended impact, you don't get total resolution. You don't get closure. You just go on with living your life.

I told them the story of when I met Garito in Taiwan.

It's common for people in Chinese-speaking countries to adopt English names, especially in Westernized countries like Taiwan. But Garito chose an Italian name, because he liked the way it sounded. I couldn't really blame him.

We met towards the beginning of the month that I spent in the country, exchanging names and stories at a coffee bar. He told me that he was a new Christian and asked me to pray for him.

I saw him maybe a handful of times that month, but I ran into him the last night I was in Dan Shui (a city outside of Taipei). To be honest, I was exhausted from all the goodbyes (I had actually said goodbye to one person three times, because I kept running into her). I expected that talking to Garito one last time would have the same result, so I prepared myself.

I started with some small talk. I told Garito that tonight was my last night. He looked surprised at that, but didn't stop what he was doing -- buying something from the market. As he was finished buying some food, he looked up at me and said, "Well, see you in heaven."

Then, he turned around and walked away. That was it. No awkward goodbyes. No "don't forget to write!" Nothing.

For Garito, today and eternity were so connected that a long, drawn-out goodbye wasn't necessary.

When the team left Nashville on Saturday, we didn't say goodbye; we said, "See you in heaven."

Why You Should Lead a Mission Trip at Home

Wed, 10 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

You should lead a mission trip in your own hometown. I'm serious.

I've been doing that this week, and it's rocking my world. Here's why you should consider being a missionary to your own city:

1) It helps you get connected with local ministries you otherwise wouldn't take the time to notice or get involved with. For instance, last night, I was introduced to People Loving Nashville, a group of random friends who all decided that they wanted to feed some people on the street once a week and have been doing just that for over a year.

2) It causes your heart to grow for your neighbor. Jesus told us to love our neighbor, which actually begins with that person next door that you rarely talk to. It's easy to have compassion for "those poor people" in Africa or Mexico that we feel sorry for. It's a bit more difficult to allow the compassion of Christ to consume you as you pray for someone you'd normally pass by.

3) Nobody knows your city better than you, and no one knows it like you do. That's why you're the ideal leader of a mission trip at home. I'm facilitating this trip full of college students from Virginia right now, and it's a blast introducing them to my city and guiding them through each day of ministry. I'm able to answer their questions and confidently lead them into new situations.

4) Because the Great Commission starts at home. (Do I really need to say anything more?) We learn how to become global citizens when we can embrace the importance of making a local impact in our communities for the sake of the kingdom. You could even say that someone who doesn't know how to be missional at home will be lost overseas. A local mission trip helps you learn how to first be faithful with small things. Leading this trip has gotten me excited about being more of a witness at home and has even reminded me of the blessing it is to live where I do.

Consider taking your next mission trip at home -- see how God uses a familiar place to teach you something new.

Photo appears courtesy of Steph Connors.

People Loving Nashville: This Week's Mission Trip

Tue, 9 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I'm leading a mission trip this week in my own town of Nashville. To be honest, it's a bit stressful. I'm having to manage my own life in addition to facilitating this group of 19 college students and leaders. But it's good. Great, in fact. As my body wears down, I have to keep reminding myself of that.

The goal, of course, as it is on any AIM trip, is simple: teach people to hear the voice of the Lord and respond in obedience. But we're doing that in the context of reaching out the homeless and urban poor... and we're learning a thing or two about how God sees people.

As this group reaches out to the "less fortunate", they're learning that these are just ordinary people, broken and beautiful just like them, each with their own unique story. One student actually said, "'Less-fortunate'? What does that even mean? I'm learning that these are just people."

Last night, we joined a local ministry in an outdoor feeding, where we talked, prayed, sang, and laughed with people... not "homeless" or "destitute". Just people. Some of us even made a few new friends.

My coworker Matt who's joining me this week and leading worship for the group shared the following on his blog:

It was composed of ragamuffins. Nobody had their junk together and all of them felt drawn together to just serve. Tattooed arms, gauged ears, and scruffy clothing was the style. Each breath they took in sucked in creativity and exhaled expression because these artists dreamed what God dreamed and painted it into a reality you could taste, touch and see. Under the cover of darkness, an army of Light was gathered. And all 22 of us joined them.

People Loving Nashville started out simple enough. A group of friends got together and decided that they wanted to feed the homeless people downtown. They started out making ten meals and handing them out to whoever would take them. Then they decided to make meals and get to know the people that they handed them to. Ten meals turned into twenty, turned into fifty, and now on some nights turns into three hundred or more.

We gathered around the old war memorial in downtown Nashville last night. The sight reminded me of my days in Church on the Street. I loved it and sighed a breath of relief. My spirit shattered as we made our way closer to the group of men eagerly awaiting their next warm meal, smiles in tote. I immediately felt at peace and made my way around getting to know some of their stories and dreams.

Mark moved from Connecticut eight years ago to live with his brother. After working several jobs, sickness won the battle for his life and he hasn't been able to get a job since. Now he's on the street looking for something, anything to provide for what he needs. His dream is to get into the music industry and become an R&B producer.

Mary Kay was a beam of radiance. She stood in line to get some new shoes. As she made her way to the front, she slipped on a pair. "Mary Kay! Those look so cute on your feet!" on of the girls told her. She immediately began modeling them. "Thank you! They sure do feel nice. I can even wear them in the rain!" She walked away a new woman.

Yancey had a speak problem and a slight drug addiction, but he taught me that B.I.B.L.E. stood for "basic instructions before leaving earth." He thought I was kidding when I told him that I had no idea what that stood for. He threw up his hands and laughed when he realized I was serious.

These three and the seventy or more others collectively have centuries worth of stories, worth of life lived. Their dignity last night was getting to share those. And we had to drag our group away so they would get sleep and be prepared for their day of ministry today.

I love that darkness is so easily defeated with a smile, a meal, and a classic conversation. I love that there's a tribe of revolutionaries - a remnant of sorts - gathering in Nashville to change the city through such a simple act of service. And I was honored to be a part.

Photo appears courtesy of Steph Connors.

The Wrecked Manifesto

Sat, 6 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

We started Wrecked three years ago.

With all of the stories, articles, and discussions that this website has elicited, I still felt like we had something more to say.

So, I wrote a manifesto. I hope that it provokes new discussions, ideas, and questions.

Here's an excerpt:

Something is missing. Something important. Something necessary to making a difference in the world. And most are afraid to find out what it is.

This is a manifesto about the discovery process of finding what's missing. It's not as glamorous as a get-rich-quick scheme or as mystical as New Age spirituality. It doesn't shine with the veneer of a car salesman's suit or catch your eye like a pretty girl.

No, it more likely grabs your attention like a week-old bag of garbage sitting in the corner or piques your interest like nails on a chalkboard. Yes, it's hard, but it can't be denied.

Read the manifesto here: Wrecked for the Ordinary - A manifesto for misftits

Got an idea to spread? Try writing a manifesto for ChangeThis or a similar organization. I write more about this here.

Short Term Missions as Pilgrimage

Thu, 4 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Mike Todd left a comment on Carl Medearis' blog post about writing Tea with Hezbollah with Ted Dekker, responding to the following passage:

The great tradition of taking a pilgrimage to learn and love a new people, has all but been lost in the Western world. All cultures and all religions have had this as an integral part of their lives. Ted and I were pilgrims.

We were learners. We actually listened far more than we spoke. I was seeing the Middle East as if for the first time, through his eyes and ears.

It changes everything when you place yourself in a posture of learning rather than teaching...

Mike's response was as follows:

[T]his idea of Pilgrimage articulates so well one of the reasons I travel. If we could realign the idea of "short term missions trips" around this notion of pilgrimage the world would be a better place.

If you're a reader of this blog, you know that I'm a fan of the concept of pilgrimage and love how it can tie in to short-term missions. I like this idea of using missions as more of a pilgrimage, but does this overlook the importance of proclaiming the Gospel?

What do you think?

Christian Pilgrimage: Homesick at Home

Tue, 2 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

My friend Marc Schifano just posted the following blog, after returning from a 10-day trip to Swaziland:

I have been wondering why I feel homesick, and I'm home. Jan and I have come to the conclusion that it is because I have tasted and seen that The Lord is good...

I am homesick. Homesick for the kingdom that Jesus spoke of. Homesick for the taste in my mouth that lingered there for ten days and still lingers there now.

Having an experience like Marc's wrecks you for life; you're never really able to go back to who you were before. And that's a good thing, but it's difficult, too. If you've been there before, you know what I'm talking about.

I've said it before, but the C.S. Lewis quote from Mere Christianity really nails this on the head. To paraphrase, Lewis says that if we finds ourselves longing for something and not being completely fulfilled in this world, then we must conclude that we were made for another world.

Think of some of some of your favorite stories (fictional and nonfictional): The Harry Potter series; Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts; The Star Wars Trilogy (that's right, only episodes 4-6); The story of the Mayflower; The Chronicles of Narnia; The Gospels.

What do they all have in common? They are all stories of people becoming heroes by leaving home. Becoming a hero is not something that you do; if story can teach us anything, it's that we're often forced into the roles we are called to play... and that includes the role of a hero. All of those stories include risk and danger. They require sacrifice. This is the cost of a truly great story.

Reading Marc's blog, I was reminded of this quote from the movie Gattaca, during the final scene of the film:

For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess I'm suddenly having a hard time leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving... maybe I'm going home.

This is the essence of becoming a pilgrim -- leaving home, and at the same time, finding it.

Great Art Points to Something Else

Mon, 1 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

The people who built the Statue of Liberty gave the world a gift. Everyone who comes to New York benefits from it, as do those who see the memorable icon in a movie or on a key chain.

There are few symbols in this world that are quite as powerful as that green lady. When people look at her, they don't see oxidized copper and a museum.

They see freedom.

They see new beginnings.

I'll bet that the ancient Jews felt a similar sense of significance when they saw the Second Temple of Jerusalem rebuilt after the exile. The rest of the city was still in shambles, but rebuilding the temple was their priority. The temple was more than just a place of worship and sacrifice; it was an icon of solidarity. It was hope.

A symbol can be a powerful thing.

A good symbol is powerful, precisely because it doesn't point to itself. It points to something else.

My colleague Jerry Goode has a quote scribbled on the whiteboard in his office that has always resonated with me: "Design should never say, 'Look at me.' It should always say, 'Look at this.'"

Great art always points to something else.

If a powerful symbol, like the Christian cross, becomes trendy, it loses its meaning. It was never intended to be art for art's sake. A symbol can not point to itself and not lose significance.

I love Claude Monet's painting (especially the Water Lilies series). When you see a Monet, you don't look at the paint. You look between the brushstrokes and beyond the oil paint and canvas. His style is intentionally exaggerated and obscured to give the viewer a particular emotional feeling. It does something to your soul, makes you feel like you're actually there for a moment -- not because of how it looks, but because of how it makes you feel.

The art isn't there just to look good. It's there to make an impression. (Hence why it's called Impressionism.)

So it is with your "art" -- the gift that you have to give the world. It's a symbol -- something you give to your friend or neighbor or even your spouse. If you're not careful, the gift can be focused towards yourself -- making you feel fulfilled or significant.

That was never the intention.

You Have a Gift to Give to the World

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Giving a gift to the world should be our most important mission in life. Call it what you like -- leaving a legacy, making an impact -- but we were put on this earth to do something. Something meaningful. Something that lasts.

Most of us appreciate the gifts that famous dead people have given to the world. But we fail to see the opportunity for gifts in our everyday life.

While the Mona Lisa was a gift to the world, so is your local library, or that bizarre sculpture in your town square.

So is that pizza joint on the corner that refuses to franchise its business, knowing they'd have to compromise quality and personal attention.

So is the sermon you heard in church this morning.

We often miss those gifts.

When I was in Spain during a semester abroad in college, I spent a day walking through the Cathedral of Seville. It's the third-largest church in the world, containing the alleged tomb of Christopher Columbus, the bell tower La Giralda, and all kinds of magnificent art. Visually, it's stunning.

My friend Martha, who was so taken aback by what she saw, said: "I wonder what kind of legacy I will leave this world." When she said it, it sounded kind of arrogant to me. Despite the fact that she seemed so convicted, I shrugged it off as pride.

It wasn't pride at all. I didn't get it.

It was about giving the world a gift. Not something that pointed to her own achievements, but to something else. Something bigger than that moment. Something that people could look at in a thousand years and still have it speak to them, still have it change them.

Believe it or not: You have a gift to give to the world.

No one else can give it. It may be your kindness or your ability to crunch numbers. It may be an entrepreneurial spirit or a love for grammar. It's your unique talent, the thing that makes you a genius. It may be obvious, or you may need someone to point it out to you, but regardless, it's yours and yours alone to give. It's your vocation, your inner voice, your calling.

You can shirk it or avoid it; you can pass the buck of responsibility and make the excuse that you simply don't have time. But we will miss out... and so will you.

The world is waiting to receive your gift. What will you do?

(Credit where credit's due: Lately, I've been thinking a lot about this idea of art in the form of a gift that changes people's lives, thanks to Seth Godin's new book Linchpin.)

Helping Other People Achieve Their Dreams

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

My wife recently launched her dream of starting a photography business. She had been talking about it for over a year, and when Christmas came, it was time to finally buy the camera she was wanting. She was scared and excited all at once, but things have really come together the past couple of months.

When we launched the website a few days ago, she and I both realized this was for real.

Everyone has a dream -- at least one. A passion. A calling. A desire.

So often we talk about realizing our dreams. This seems to be part of the core of what it means to be an American -- to descend from hardworking immigrants who busted their humps so that you and I could have more opportunities to make a life for ourselves.

That's all well and good, and that certainly speaks to those of us who have an entrepreneur buried deep in our psyches. But what about other people's dreams?

I'm convinced that our culture under-emphasizes the importance (and joy) of helping someone else realize their dream.

I know that this is true, because I've experienced it first-hand. There is nothing quite so fulfilling as working to see someone else's vision come true.

When you love someone, the things that they love you end up loving.

That's been the case with my wife, as well as friends and colleagues. I can't explain it exactly, but in some ways, this is more enjoyable than realizing your own dreams.

Maybe it has something to do with our longing for community and fellowship. When you realize a dream of your own, the only person benefiting from it may be you; however, when you help someone else pursue their passion, it is automatically about more than one person. It is something you share together.

We were made to dream, to shoot for the moon, but we fail to realize that the achievement of those aspirations should be a communal activity.

The implications of this idea are pretty astounding. If God gave us deep longings and called us to help others achieve dreams, then maybe the opposite is true, as well. Maybe others are called to help us achieve our dreams.

Maybe we actually get closer to our own dreams by helping people achieve theirs.

How Many Geniuses Do You Know?

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I know a few geniuses.

Krista Hines is a genius at graphic design. She can come up with astounding creative with as little direction as a couple of vague sentences.

Kim Daniels is a genius at editing video and has more than once pulled out an amazing final product when given very limited resources and a tight deadline.

Of course, there are other ways of being a genius that are just as valid. For instance:

Matt Snyder is a genius at coming up with new ideas, and Michael Hindes is a genius at leadership. My boss Seth is a genius at launching new ministries and businesses.

The origin of the word "genius" can be traced back to a Latin word meaning "a guiding spirit." The idea at the time was that there was some kind of supernatural force leading a person towards transcendent ability.

Eventually, the word came to mean "a person of extraordinary intellect and talent." But there's more to being a genius than just being smart. Geniuses go beyond being merely good students.

The illustration for "genius" on the Wikipedia entry is a photo of Albert Einstein. Most people agree that Einstein wasn't that great at math. He may have been better at it than the average person, but he wasn't the best at it. In fact, he had to ask for help from greater mathematicians in developing his own theory of relativity.

So, why is Einstein still considered a genius?

Maybe our modern understanding of a genius is wrong. Maybe the word means something more akin to the ancient definition of a guiding spirit. In other words, geniuses march to the beat of a different drummer. They're rule-breakers; they're weird.

That would explain why Einstein was able to intuitively come up with a theory that was beyond even his own calculations... and why he had such crazy hair. Talk about extraordinary... and weird.

Make no mistake here: I'm not saying that everyone is a genius in their own way. That would be nice, but untrue. Simone de Beauvoir said, "One is not born a genius, one becomes a genius." It takes work to be a genius -- to find that one thing that only you can do, to tap into that guiding spirit that inspires you to become who you were meant to be. It doesn't just happen to you. The idea of inherent genius was created to make ordinary people like you and me feel like we could never amount to anything. That's a lie.

You can be a genius.

A genius is someone on a different level -- someone who has focused on their unique ability to give the world a gift. They don't bother with anything but focusing on how to make that gift better.

Leave the math to the mathematicians.

What's Happening in Haiti is Spiritual

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I haven't posted much about Haiti lately, but it still is a big part of my daily life with all the plans AIM has to be down there for the next six months (and longer).

The youth ministry team we sent down there to capture stories returned last week with incredible stories. Stories about displaced people, surprising faith in those who lost everything, and becoming the answers to their prayers.

Friends keep asking me about Haiti. And I keep telling them the same answer: Haiti is experiencing revival.

We need to move beyond the mindset of "those poor Haitians..." and recognize what is happening here: Haiti is being reborn. The Lord is moving in the midst of what seemed like a hopeless situation. God's doing what only God can do -- bringing beauty from ashes and turning mourning into dancing. The country isn't being restored to what it was before; it's being rebuilt from the foundation up.

My coworker Clint gave this rousing assessment: "God's doing just fine without us... but we have an opportunity to join him."

We need to re-frame our understanding of the situation in Haiti; most Americans don't have a clue what the Lord is up to down there, myself included. It goes beyond relief plans and social justice.

Something spiritual is happening.

Hundreds of Christian pastors are rising up to see a new day in this country. Spiritual headship is being exchanged in a people that once would have had little to do with the Christian religion. Voodoo priests are shedding their animistic faith and coming to Christ in the droves.

Two weekends ago, the nation observed a time of corporate prayer and fasting. Secular news groups actually called this a "national day of mourning." According to our team who was on the ground when this was happening, people were doing anything but mourning. They were repenting. They were crying out to God, asking him to cleanse the land.

They were dancing in the streets, praising Jesus.

Tens of thousands of them... giving glory and honor to the one true God, their Creator and Redeemer. Below is a video recap of the event:

Something truly remarkable is happening in Haiti. It's time that we got over our small-minded temporal understanding of the situation and joined God in what he is doing there.

Are you game?

Photo courtesy of guru and all-around cool guy Adam McLane. See more Haiti photos on his Flickr site.

Urgency and Importance: Spiritually Speaking

Mon, 22 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

In his book First Things First, Stephen Covey made the distinction between urgency and importance. For effective people that want to make a difference, understanding this difference is essential.

Just because something is urgent does not mean that it is important. That is, something that demands our response or action now doesn't always deserve it.

In our culture, we are inundated with matters of the moment. Text messaging and emails don't help this. In fact, many of us would rather spend time on what's urgent than on what's important. We use urgency to avoid importance, work that actually matters.

Responding to what's urgent makes us feel important. It gives us a short-term feeling of significance. Urgent tasks only take a few moments to respond to usually, but the irony, of course, is that we may spend our whole day accomplishing urgent tasks and never getting to what is important.

Urgent is easier than important. And there's a reason for that. Urgent doesn't matter. It's a drug. It feels good today and gives you a hangover tomorrow, leaving you burnt-out and disillusioned with yourself.

I know this, because I am an expert at responding to urgency. I struggle with spending my whole day parked in front of the computer, sending and receiving email. It makes me feel significant. And it's a lie.

I'm struggling to master this, but in the midst of this struggle I'm learning something even more profound: While this is most definitely true of our work lives, it's also true of our spiritual lives.

It hardly ever seems urgent for me to pray or to read my Bible. I rarely feel like if I don't fast tomorrow, that my life will suddenly stop. Now, if you asked me what would happen if I couldn't connect to the internet, that would be a different matter. Most of the time, I don't even notice if I miss a day of prayer of Bible. It just sort of slips by, as my day gets hi-jacked by busyness.

Being busy isn't only the enemy a productive lifestyle; it's destructive to the soul. It lies to you, telling you that what you're doing (what's urgent) is what's important, and by the time that something like prayer is urgent, it's too late. You've already lost.

Matters of the heart and spirit often get passed up by deadlines and projects driven by Type A personalities. The things that matter don't always feel like it, but I know that they do. In fact, precisely because they don't feel urgent, I know that they are important and deserve my attention.

And that's where you and I have to be really careful, so that we can recognize what is essential and what is just noise, consuming our days.

Do you struggle with urgency and importance? What's an example?

Idols Are Usually Good Things: More About Lent

Fri, 19 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Lent is upon us. So begins a season of giving things up, especially those that would distract us from growing closer to God. However, how many people will be giving up good things?

Most of the time when I hear people talk about Lent, they say they are giving up things that are either petty or just downright terrible (like my one friend in high school who gave up smoking pot for Lent).

Certainly, we should be giving up those things that are hazardous to our health, but that's not really what Lent is about. Lent is about making room for God. It's about fasting from the things in our lives that were at one time good and have now become idols.

And that brings me to an interesting discovery I'm making: idols are usually good things.

That's why we're attracted to them. That's why become so fixated with these things that ultimately turn into addictions and obsessions.

Tim Keller aptly describes this in his new book Counterfeit Gods:

We think that idols are bad things, but that is almost never the case. The greater the good, the more likely we are to expect that it can satisfy our deepest needs and hopes. Anything can serve as a counterfeit god, especially the very best things in life.

So, Lent isn't necessarily about idolatry, but it is about making space in your life, and what takes up more space than an idol? Nothing. American culture is full of these good things that are used as a means to an end. However, these good things become idols when the means becomes the end.

What is this "good thing" for me? To name one: technology. I use it all day every day for good and noble causes, but it has started to consume the rest of my life to the point that work and play grow blurry and I no longer know the difference. This has affected my relationships, my healthy, and my general dependence and faith in God.

Sometimes, an idol must be destroyed; other times, it must merely be controlled or put in a cage for awhile. It just needs to learn its proper place in our lives. Lent is a great time to do this -- to gain perspective and fast from those good things in our lives that have lost their goodness.

What's your "good thing" that has begun to take over your life?

What's your idol?

Linchpin: "Art Changes Someone" (Seth Godin)

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Art changes someone. It has to. Otherwise, it's not art.

Yesterday, I posted a blog that asked the question, "Are you an artist?" I was using Seth Godin's definition of art in his new book Linchpin.

By "art", he doesn't mean oil canvas paintings or avant-garde films with foreign subtitles; although, those things can be art, too.

For Godin, art is simply something created that changes someone else.

(Side note: I'm not good at posting all-encompassing book reviews. It takes me a few posts to really share my thoughts. If I'm honest, I'm processing them as I'm writing. I did this with Tribes, too.)

Here are a few quotes from Linchpin about art:

Art is a personal gift that changes the recipient. The medium doesn't matter. The intent does. Art is a personal act of courage, something on human does that creates change in another...

Art is not related to craft, except to the extent that the craft helps deliver the change...

Art is certainly not limited to painting or sculpture of songwriting. If there is no change, there is no art. If no one experiences it, there can be no change...

Art is original... Art is the product of emotional labor. If it's easy and risk free, it's unlikely that it's art.

Art that doesn't change someone is just "noise," as Godin would say. This prompts some interesting questions, I think. Here are a few:

Is Christian music art? Yes, but not all of it. It has to produce change. There is a reason why the term "starving artist" has become widely-used. It's true. An artist must be willing to starve before he will compromise his art. I have friends wanting to get into the music business who need to learn this. Art is first and foremost a gift. Before you want to sell 1000 copies of your CD, give away 100.

Is marketing art? Most of the time, it's not. My friend Jesse wrote on his Facebook profile about the controversial Focus on the Family commercial during the Super Bowl featuring Tim Tebow and his mom. His criticism was that commercials that don't engage and transform people are pointless. Ads that don't change lives can't be art. There's too much noise in our culture, and advertising usually doesn't help.

Are books art? They can be, but many are not, especially Christian nonfiction books. Books that are geared to appease the masses without challenging them are destined to fail in creating art that changes.

Is the Bible art? I probably wouldn't have thought much about this question, had I not recently seen The Book of Eli. However, now that I have, I would say that the Bible is only art when it isn't being used to subjugate other human beings. When it's not changing lives, the Bible is just another religious text (and we have enough of those).

Granted, art is a tricky subject. We've been indoctrinated to believe that it's in the eye of the beholder, and certainly that's true, but if the beholder isn't being changed, then it isn't art.

Consider the implications of this for what you do every day: Do you create art? Could you? I like this quote from an interview Hugh Macleod did with Godin:

The amazing thing is that in every job, every one, there are people who hate it and people who love it. There are clock watchers on Sand Hill Road. There are people bussing tables at a coffee shop who race to work each day. The job is irrelevant, pretty much. It's the decision.

Sounds a little bit like "doing everything as unto the Lord," no? Interesting...

What would have to change for you to create art every day?

Why aren't you getting started... now?

Cartoon appears courtesy of Hugh Macleod. You can buy the print here.

Are You An Artist?

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I'm reading Seth Godin's Linchpin right now. At first, it was hard to move through this book. I wanted it to be like Tribes, which was full of pithy bits of wisdom and was fairly easy to blaze through.

Linchpin isn't like that. It's more sophisticated and deserves time to be digested. I've tried to race through the book and failed. It wasn't intended to be read like that. It must be savored and appreciated.

The idea behind the book is that you need to become an indispensable member of your organization -- your company, your club, your church. It's not about doing ordinary work, but about becoming extraordinary. This kind of person is creative, innovative, and unique. They're irreplaceable.

Godin calls this person an "artist." He writes:

Art is a personal gift that changes the recipient.

An artist is an individual who creates art. The more people you change, the more you change them, the more effective your art is.

Art is not related to craft, except to the extent that the craft helps deliver the change. Technical skill might be a helpful component making art, but it's certainly not required. Art doesn't have to be decorative; it can be useful as long as the use causes change.

Art is certainly not limited to painting or sculpture or songwriting. If there is no change, there is no art. If no one experiences it, there can be no change.

While that may not be your definition of art, it's Godin's. And it's a thought-provoking one.

So, according to this definition, are you an artist?

Reflections on Ash Wednesday and T.S. Eliot Poem

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

For those of you unfamiliar the liturgical calendar, today's Ash Wednesday. Traditionally, it's a day of fasting that marks the beginning of Lent, the 40-day period of reflection before Easter.

Until my twenties, I didn't know much about this holy day (although my college fraternity "religiously" celebrated Mardi Gras every year). As I've grown older, I've realized how essential these times of intentional reflection are in a Christ-follower's life.

I don't know how I missed out on this for so long. It must have been because, as a Protestant, I arrogantly considered myself "above" anything that resembled tradition. In fact, simply due to their association with Catholicism and mainline Christianity, I steered clear of Lent and similar practices.

I was a fool.

Over the past few years, I've learned that life happens in seasons. It's important for us to grieve what has passed so that we can receive what is yet to come. Lent reminds us of past seasons -- that for every resurrection there is a death, and for every death a resurrection. We know that the latter is true, but we often forget the former.

Dying is a part of life.

We must go through times in which something in us must die in order for something new to be born. Lent helps us do that. We give up something -- not for the sake of the act itself, but for the sake of giving God space to move. Spending 40 days fasting and reflecting can bring a lot of perspective. One writer said it best when she explained that she celebrates Lent as a time of letting go and making room. She says that Lent is about "voluntary simplicity, making space." She writes:

People who equate Lenten sacrifice with a New Year's resolution are missing the richness of the possibility. We have before us a preparation for Life... and an invitation to die to the things that keep us dead in a little further way. We could make this out to be about chocolate. Or we could ask God what things are getting in our way. (Zihna Edwards)

According to an article from the ChristianPost, more evangelicals are now practicing Lent to prepare for Easter and give greater significance to the Resurrection. I find that to be very encouraging. The fact is that we Protestants are often times poor in tradition; we tend to think that tradition equates to traditionalism, but it doesn't have to.

If you've never celebrated Lent, I encourage you to consider starting today. Don't worry about first getting your heart in the right place; that's what this whole season is about -- preparation. Get started and God will meet you where you are.

Here's an excerpt of a poem by T.S. Eliot called "Ash Wednesday" (HT: Englewood Review of Books):

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice

Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something

Upon which to rejoice

Read the rest of the poem...

Life is Fragile

Tue, 16 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

If I'm learning anything from the recent tragedy in Haiti, it's this: Life is fragile.

It seems that we all learn this hard fact at some point in adulthood. Life can be brutal. The universe sometimes seems ruthless and impersonal. "Why do bad things happen to good people?" the popular question goes.

One day, you're living in a mansion, and the next, you have nothing.

On our way home from Indianapolis to Nashville yesterday, my wife and I ended up veering off the highway and into a ditch. It was snowing hard, we saw brake lights in front of us, and we avoided a collision by driving into a foot of snow... and getting stuck.

We were picked up by a police officer, who informed us that no cars on the highway were getting towed today. It was too dangerous. He dropped us off at a hotel a few miles down the road and gave us a number to call the next morning, once the roads were clear and a tow truck could come bail us out.

I know that this doesn't sound terrible, but this was hard for us. It was an interruption to our schedule. It was inconvenient. Ashley had to take off another day of work, we had to pay for a night's stay in a hotel, and we have to pay a tow truck to pull our car out of the snow.

But it caused us to slow down, to appreciate the fragility of life -- the little things that we take for granted (like safety). It's forced us to rest for a day. Ashley spent the afternoon napping, while I caught up on work and watched a movie. We probably shouldn't have been on the road, any way. The weather was questionable, but we were in a hurry to get home. I was lagging that morning, and we didn't get out the door until 11am.

Look again at the situation in Haiti -- not the hopeless situations you hear about on the news, but the stories of resilience and redemption. The Haitian church is experiencing revival. Our advance team that's currently on the ground has been sharing reports of thousands of people worshiping the Lord and crying out to God in unprecedented ways. My boss says he's never seen anything like it.

As humans, we tend to get addicted to comfort, even feel entitled to it. We forget that life is a gift, that nothing can be taken for granted. Haiti has had everything taken away from it, and it is now being reborn and rebuilt. I can't make sense of this. I don't want to. But it's beautiful.

Life is both fragile and terrifying. The fact that I am just one step away from destruction or tragedy is not a comforting thought, but it does prompt me to feel grateful.

After days like this, I'm less inclined to believe that bad things happening to us mean that we necessarily did something to warrant the punishment. Maybe we aren't being punished. Maybe we're being redeemed. Refined. Reborn.

Just like Haiti.

Where Your Treasure Is... There Your Heart Will Be

Mon, 15 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Valentine's Day has come and gone.

On Friday, I bit the bullet and ordered flowers to be delivered to Ashley's work place. Not just any flowers. Tulips. Her favorite. But not just any tulips. Purple tulips. Her absolute favorite.

I really wanted to bless my wife, but if I'm honest, I'll admit that I had to fight through the resistance of a thousand good reasons to not do anything special.

She already knows I love her, so why bother?

I'm pretty cheap and have a hard time justifying dropping a pretty penny on material things, even if it is for the love of my life. In past relationships, I justified this inaction by saying I was being "frugal" or that I was investing in more "thoughtful" gifts like hand-made cards and crafts. In fact, I started doing this with Ashley when we first started dating, but here's what I realized:

If I'm not spending my valuable resources on someone I love, that says something about the value I place on that relationship.

I spend money on all kinds of things that have nothing to do with the most important relationship in my life. Every time I have a chance to buy my wife flowers, chocolates, or take her out to a movie, I struggle with the internal resistance that tells me that it's not worth it.

Really? Not "worth it" to spend $5, $10, or $20, to let her know that I think she's special?

I heard an interesting sermon on Sunday about money and generosity. The basic premise, which many of us have heard before, was this: show someone your checkbook, receipts, and credit card statements, and you give them a pretty good idea of where your priorities are.

That's a convicting thought for those of us who are married, but it translates to any relationship, I believe. For some reason, it's easiest to neglect those whom we love the most. Save a few bucks on Christmas presents here, skip a couple of birthdays there, and before you know it, you've communicated to someone you care about that they don't matter.

My wife taught me this, actually, through her actions. Like me, she's a pretty frugal spender. Unlike me, she will go to great lengths to communicate to a loved one that they matter -- through a gift. It doesn't have to be expensive. Sometimes, it's $5, sometimes, $50. But she won't let silly things like money hold her back from blessing someone. She's great like that. She finds a way to tell someone that they're special, even if it means she has to sacrifice something.

The assumption, of course, is that you have some disposable resources to give. I'm not proposing that we go into debt to buy nice things for our friends and family. This also applies to our time and small gestures, as well. A $1 piece of chocolate or single rose can say a lot, as can a long-distance phone call to a friend or road trip across the state.

The thing that we need to not do, however, is over-spiritualize this. That's what I did. I thought that I could replace money with intangibles, and get out of spending money on presents. But the reality is that Jesus said, "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be." (Luke 12:34)

We may not like this idea, but money matters to God, and where we spend it matters to him, as well.

All I'm saying is this: If I have to financially skimp on something, it should a thing, not a relationship. And for some reason, I really struggle with that.

What about you? Where is your treasure, and what does that say about the relationships in your life?

The Book of Eli Made Me Want to Read My Bible

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I saw The Book of Eli last night.

It was incredible. If you haven't seen this movie, drop whatever you're doing, go buy some tickets, and see it. It's that good. The visual effects are stunning, the story line is rich in meaningful content, and the plot is full of twists and turns that are ultimately redemptive.

I first found out about The Book of Eli from Mark Oestreicher, who was able to see a special screening of it and ask some of the cast members and creators of the film questions.

The basic story is this: It's a post-apocalyptic world (think Mad Max in America), and one man Eli (Denzel Washington) has a sacred book that everyone wants due to its power to control people, because according to Carnegie (Gary Oldman), "It's worked before."

The book is, of course, the Bible, which we learn as the movie unfolds. The film is interesting, because it isn't so much about the Bible, as it is about how men use it -- for selfish, controlling reasons or for merciful, self-sacrificing reasons.

Here's Marko's take:

the themes the movie teases out are rich. both eli and carnegie are passionate about the bible, but for very different reasons. carnegie sees it as a weapon, a tool with which to control others, while eli sees it as the only option for redemption in his brutal world. there are a handful of surprises and turns that make the story rich, including one that found me choked up with tears.

Much in the spirit of 300, but without quite so much gore and "cartoonishness", the contrasts are high, and the colors are bleak in this futuristic setting. We know little about the current state of things, other than it has been 30 years since "The War" (which may have been actually fought over "The Book"), and few things are as they once were. The film provides some critical analysis of our culture, including everything from legalism to consumerism. As Eli explains to his foil Solara (Mila Kunis) that the world in which he was raised was full of people who "threw things away that people now kill each for" (my paraphrase).

Aside from a couple of poorly-quoted Bible verses (he sort of does a hodge-podge of translations when quoting Psalm 23) and one cheesy final scene that almost undoes the redemption of Kunis (she is branded in my mind as "That Seventies Show Girl"), The Book of Eli is impeccable. It may be one of my favorite movies of the decade.

I'm sure that there are countless parallels you could draw between this film's treatment of Scripture and real life, but the feeling that it evoked more than anything was gratitude. I mean, I have at least 10 Bibles at home (not an exaggeration), and sometimes go days without reading one of them. And I just saw a movie where people killed to get one... and protect one.

I think I have a better appreciation of what the scribes went through to ensure that we had an accurate version of God's Word; I think I "get" why Ezra was so emphatic about reading the Book of the Law to the Israelites who returned to the Holy City.

When I came back from seeing the movie, I stumbled across this Twitter post:

The Book of Eli makes me wanna read my Bible more.

Good call, Monica Watson. I couldn't agree more.

When Your Dream Comes True... Without You

Thu, 11 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Today is a realization of a small dream of mine: AIM is sending a blogging team into the mission field to tell stories. For a couple years now, I've dreamed of inviting a group of non-AIM bloggers to go out into the field to capture some of our best stories and use them to call the Church to action.

And today it's coming true... without me.

This morning, a group of eight bloggers, along with two AIM staff boarded a plane on their way to Haiti to report on what God through AIM's partnership with the Haitian church. They will be posting updates on Twitter, Facebook, and their respective blogs about how Haiti is recovering from the earthquake that struck almost exactly one month ago.

They will tell stories of pain and desperation, but also of strength and resilience, how poverty and death do not have the final say in God's economy. How life triumphs over even the darkest circumstances. How love, ultimately, wins.

It's kind of exciting to see a dream come true.

But here's the interesting thing about dreams: they're not about you. A real God-given dream isn't about your ego or your getting to participate in it. It's about the cause, the the fruit that results from all your work -- what you spent hours of blood, sweat, and tears to produce.

And I can honestly say that I don't mind not going; it's a privilege to merely be a part of this group, to have helped mobilize and prepare the team to serve in Haiti. I can't wait to hear to the stories that they'll find and share them with the world.

If you have a dream that God has given you, consider the possibility that he may not be calling you to play the lead role in it. And learn to actually be okay with it. I assure you -- a "behind-the-scenes" vantage point is still an awesome seat to watch the show.

In my experience, sometimes it's better than being in the limelight.

Here's the team that left for Haiti today (along with a link to their blogs to follow their stories):

Anne Jackson is a speaker and author.

Tim Schmoyer is a full time youth pastor for Alexandria Covenant Church.

Adam McLane is the "Digital Czar" for Youth Specialties.

Mark Oestreicher is a writer and former President of Youth Specialties, as well as a personal friend of Seth Barnes and former member of AIM's board of directors.

Seth Barnes is the Founder and Executive Director of Adventures in Missions.

Jeremy Zach started REYouthPastor.com and is a full time youth pastor for Church by the Sea.

Lars Rood is the Lead Youth Minister at Highland Park Presbyterian Church, as well as a speaker and a writer.

Ian Robertson is a full-time videographer.

Rhett Smith is a Family and Marriage Counselor, writer, and serves as part-time on staff with Highland Park Presbyterian Church.

Clint Bokelman is the Director for Short Term Missions for Adventures In Missions.

The team will travel first to Santo Domingo (they're arriving this evening), and then cross the border into Haiti, where they will head to the epicenter of the earthquake and meet local pastors with whom AIM is partnering. They will be returning on Feb. 17.

You can follow this team's updates on Facebook, via email, or on our Haiti blog.

Starting with the Man in the Mirror

Wed, 10 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I just watched This Is It, a documentary about Michael Jackson's last tour that he was never able to perform. My wife is a dancer, choreographer, and, naturally, an MJ fan. We both really enjoyed the film. All of the creative ideas expressed in the film would have definitely made an amazing live show.

What was interesting, however, was that no one felt that this was a shame. In the behind-the-scenes interviews, everyone just expressed gratitude for being able to be a part of the creative expression of Michael's ideas.

One thing in particular stood out to me as I watched this artist at work -- his desire to see the world change and the belief that it was possible.

One person testified, "Before it was trendy Michael cared about the environment." Certainly, like any celebrity, MJ had his issues, but I'm not really interested in getting into that now. There are a thousand celebrity sites and magazines that you can read, if you like.

What impressed me more than his passion was the humility and truth he represented in pursuing change. I had never really listened to the words before, but this is best expressed in the song "Man in the Mirror".

Here's an excerpt:

I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change

For those of you wanting to see change in the world, wanting to be a part of something revolutionary, this isn't bad advice: start with the man (or woman) in the mirror.

What do you want to see change -- in your life, at your job, in the world?

I don't know about you, but I'm compelled to start with the man in the mirror.

Focus on the Family Could Have Done Better

Tue, 9 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I don't want to be indelicate here, but I didn't really understand the point of the Tim Tebow Super Bowl ad on Sunday. I mean, I even watched the full story on the Focus on the Family website, but the whole thing just really confused me.

I wrote about the ad from a marketing perspective on my writing blog, but I wanted to pose the question on this blog:

When you have something powerful to share, what's the best way to say it?

For instance, Focus on the Family wanted to share the message of Jesus as it related to human dignity, aborted fetuses, and Tim Tebow's story. But they missed the boat. They awkwardly stumbled through their 30-second spot, using it as an excuse to drive people to their website, where they even more awkwardly shared a story in a way that only their niche could relate to.

Here's what I wrote in the aforementioned article:

Wouldn't it have been better to share a message that people already believed, something - anything - that they could relate to?
Wouldn't it have been better to talk less about preaching and more about the struggle Tim's mother faced as a confused woman? Wouldn't it have been great to spend 30 seconds sharing the struggles of being human?

I'm not saying that they shouldn't have talked about God or been up-front about their evangelical convictions. I just think that they missed an opportunity to share their message with the world in a more accessible way. Instead, they squandered it on a semi-humorous, confusing ad that was supposed to be "pro-life" but left most people wondering what all the fuss was about.

A couple people shared these thoughts:

I think Focus just dropped $3 million on an ad to tell people "we don't have a clue how to talk to the average American"
-Adam McLane

i nearly missed the ad entirely, the "pro-family" theme was so thinly veiled... I think a message of redemption and forgiveness would've been far radical in an even better way.

-Sara Choe

What do you think? How could Focus have done better?

Are There Movies In Heaven?

Mon, 8 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Twitter friend PastorElvis (not his real name, unfortunately) asked me the following question this morning:

I know God loves country music but does "he" allow tv and movies in heaven...one thing I would really really miss.

First of all, I contend with the idea that God Almighty loves country music. He is most definitely a hardcore Led Zeppelin fan.

Second, I thought that this was a provocative question, because it raised a deeper question: Why do we watch movies and TV shows?

My wife and I spent the weekend mostly "vegging out" to Redbox movies and reruns of The Office on Netflix. It was a nice, much-needed rest after a long week of work and emotional fatigue for the both of us.

I'll tell you why I watch movies: Because I want to feel like I am part of a bigger story.

Most books, movies, and stories captivate us with intriguing, dangerous plots or overwhelming scenes of beauty. We love these things, because we want to escape from the monotony of our reality and be caught up in something more. Something deeper. Something moving. Something adventurous.

We all desperately want out of the Matrix. My simple answer to PastorElvis was this:

I think that life in heaven will be so real we won't need movies.

Movies and compelling TV shows speak to that Voice inside of us that whispers, that taunts us an Ultimate Reality, something more than what we can see, touch, and taste. We are all longing for it. In this world, however, sometimes the closest we can get to that longing for fulfillment is getting lost in an action movie or romance novel.

Please, don't misunderstand me: I don't think that this is a bad thing. It tells us that we were made for something more.

C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." (See the whole quote here.)

No, friends, I don't think that there are movies in heaven.

I believe that heaven is a movie... one in which we all get to play a part.

Photo courtesy of: http://www.flickr.com/photos/keertmoed/ / CC BY-ND 2.0

Haiti Doesn't Need Your Pity

Sat, 6 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

They say that Haiti should be pitied.

They say that we should feel bad for all those "poor, starving people" over there.

They say that the destruction caused by this awful earthquake can never be redeemed, that Haiti will never be what it could have been.

They say that tens of thousands of children are now orphaned, the economy is in shambles, and some people may never recover.

But I've been hearing different reports...

They say that God has cursed Haiti and abandoned it.

They say that all our good intentions to help this nation may not actually work.

They said that we should feel sorry for this nation, that they need our condolences and handouts.

They say that hope in Haiti is fading.

But the Haitian church seems to be singing a different song...

The videos above are of real churches that we have encountered. The last one is of a group of Haitian pastors who believe that God wants them to father the nation of Haiti, to raise up the next generation, to restore the broken foundations and see life and hope spring forth.

I say that "they" are wrong.

Haiti doesn't need your pity.

Listening to the praise choruses of Haitians, I'm inclined to believe that the opposite is true.

Have mercy on us, O God.

A Million Miles In a Thousand Years: Donald Miller and Story

Fri, 5 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I read Donald Miller's newest book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years a couple of months ago. It's about time that I shared my thoughts, since I co-authored the book. (Kidding! But there's a funny story behind that.) I both loved and hated it.

I loved that Don challenged his readers to live a more interesting story.

I hated some of the flaws of the entertainment industry that were revealed. Okay, part of me kind of enjoyed this, but it also made me sad. The first part of the book is about how Don and a couple of screenwriters are trying to turn Blue Like Jazz into a movie and, in the process, learn that his life isn't that interesting. For me, it exposed how Hollywood hijacks our stories and forces us to digest their versions of them. They did this with Don's story, and I thought it was manipulative.

To redeem this, Don reflected on his own life and applied the basic concepts of story to live a more interesting story in the future. The result is this compelling book about exotic voyages to ancient ruins, adventurous cross-country bike rides, and a road trip to face the father who abandoned him. So, while Don found good in the situation, I didn't appreciate the pressure placed on him to change the events of his life to make a better movie.

I loved the writing. A Million Miles is full of the wit, humor, and intelligence that so befits the style that has become "Donald Miller." No one relates an anecdote like Miller, especially with hilarious, self-effacing remarks peppered throughout each story. If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you know that it took me a long time to get past the hype of Blue Like Jazz and finally read something by this author. When I did, however, I was pleasantly surprised. I can tell you straight from the mouth of a skeptic, if you haven't read any of Miller's work before, it's just as good as the hype.

I hated the editing hack job. Poor Don needs a new editor or proofreader. I didn't want to be "that guy" who kept notes and pointed out every typo on each page, but frankly, after I got past five, I stopped counting. I was really disappointed in some of the gross typographical errors (he misspelled Ernest Hemingway's last name, for crying out loud). I would've expected a better product from Thomas Nelson. Hopefully, the next printing will be an improvement (I'm sure that this book will go into a second printing).

All things considered, I loved this book, because of the excellent message: live a better story. I enjoyed it even more when my wife and I went to hear Don Miller speak with Susan Isaacs about his life, the power of story, and the true message of the Gospel (which is not, by the way, that Jesus will fix you). The experience really expounded upon some of the themes in the book and supplemented the material that he, in many ways, only touched the surface of in A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

My only concern for those who read this book is that they may take the idea of it to an extreme. While I like the idea of "living a better story," it may place unrealistic expectations on some people's lives. Moreover, it may offer an easy temptation to irresponsibly float from one great story to the next at the expense of commitment and integrity. I don't think that was Don's intent, but it's a possibility, nonetheless.

The truth is that we all want to live a great story. We all want to have something of which we'd be proud to tell our grandchildren. We want to be able to hear God say on Judgment Day, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." A Million Miles in a Thousand Years gives us the framework for how to do that.

I hope that you have read it or have a chance to hear Don speak (he's a talented public speaker). And I truly hope that you and I both hear the words of a proud Father when we pass from this life into the next.

In the mean time, let's share our stories and spur each another on towards love and good deeds.

You can buy A Million Miles in a Thousand Years for cheap here. Also, check out the review my friend Brooke did on it. Below is a video of Don from his speaking tour (when he was in Nashville, I think).

Social Justice Can Cost You Your Soul

Thu, 4 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

If you're not careful, this whole fad of caring for the poor and doing good works for the destitute can cost you your soul.

I know that sounds melodramatic, but it's true. In fact, I've seen it happen many times -- in my life and in the lives of my friends. Good works has become an obsession; the doing has replaced the being that is so necessary in the Christian life. We can be tempted to not act out of faith in what God will do, but instead out of fear that he won't do something. Instead of abiding in the vine, we try to make fruit spontaneously spring from desolate earth.

It doesn't work like that.

Be careful with this, friends. I mean it. Yes, helping the poor is Scriptural; feeding the hungry is what Jesus would have you do; combating AIDS is a noble battle. But these efforts in and of themselves can be counter-productive; they can cause us to rely upon on our own strength. If we're not careful, we can end up resenting God for not fixing a problem how we thought it should be fixed.

Here's an excerpt from an article I recently wrote about this subject:

In the do-gooder flick Pay It Forward, Trevor McKenney asks his teacher after receiving an unusual homework assignment, "Are you saying you'll flunk us if we don't change the world?" To which Eugene responds, "Well, no. But you might just scrape by with a C."

Many of us have been "scraping by with a C" for awhile now. Recently, there's been a surge of activity in the western hemisphere to connect people of faith with meaningful and intentional action in regard to issues of poverty and injustice. The fact that millions of people are no longer content with scraping by with a "C" is beautiful thing, but we need to be careful. In a world full of despair and great need, it's easy to lose yourself in the pursuit of justice. No one ever seems to talk much about this - how justice can consume you, keep you up at night, become an obsession, and even distract you from God.

By all means, seek social justice, live it out wherever you can, but let it be an extension of your relationship with Christ, not a replacement for it.

How has pursuing social justice at the neglect of other things cost you your soul?

Mission Trips for Your Teen or College Student

Wed, 3 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I have a meeting with a college pastor this afternoon to discuss an upcoming spring break mission trip for his group. From the sound of it, many of the students haven't had much missions experience. It got me thinking about how important it is for teenagers and college students to learn how to serve on a mission trip, to have their faith and worldview stretched to the absolute max.

This season can be a busy one for us at Adventures In Missions (AIM). People start thinking about what they're doing for the summer, and we tend to fill up a lot of our mission trips. As an organization, we've been doing everything we can (from new programs to discount pricing) to ensure that young people still have an opportunity to have a radical, life-changing experience in the mission field.

Short-term missions catches a lot of flak and criticism these days (some of which is due). But make no mistake: a mission trip doesn't only benefit those who are going on the trip. I used to be a skeptic of the whole STM fad, but that was before I started seeing people healed on these trips, before I started seeing churches planted in a week. I've seen so much long-term good come out of short-term experiences that I can't help but believe in the effectiveness of mission trips that are done well.

Every year, I hear stories from young people who have spent a week or a month or an entire summer in the mission field, and how that one trip changed the course of their life forever. Sending a high school or college student on a mission trip is an investment into their future; it's a way of saying, "That is what's important in life." Not only that, it's scriptural. If you really search the New Testament, you find that the precedent for missions isn't long-term, but more often than not, it is short-term (three years or less).

God can do a lot in a short amount of time. You just need to give him a little bit of room to work.

If you're a parent or youth leader, I urge you to consider making an investment a young person you're influencing by sending them on a mission trip. The return will be immeasurable. If you're still skeptical, I'll connect you with parents and youth leaders who will testify to the importance of missions in the discipleship of young people.

If you are that high school or college student, I challenge you to get in the game. Jesus didn't teach his disciples through textbooks and coffee meetings; he used real-world practical experiences to show them how to live. Quit procrastinating and making excuses. It's time. You know this. It's time to discover Christ amongst the "least of these." It's time to see the dignity in the eyes of the poor you once pitied. And it's time to understand how big God is compared to the box in which you have been placing him.

Step out. Be courageous. It's time.

For high school students and college-age young adults, I can't think of doing anything better with your summer (or spring break) than serving in a place that is outside of your comfort zone. It really will be an incredible experience to look back on years later; please don't put it off. You may never again have the opportunity.

If you need help getting started, contact me. Don't debate and question and then do nothing; find a way to go. Of course, I'd recommend our organization, but there are others, too, that would well be worth your time. If you don't know exactly what you're looking for and need an unbiased third party to help you in this decision-making process, I recommend the Right Now Campaign.

If you know AIM and want to go on a trip with us, check out our short-term mission trips for students and young adults.

Again, please go.

The world is waiting for you; it needs you, and you need it.

All Marketers Are... Liars? (or Tell Stories)

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I need to preface this post by saying that I have always hated the idea of marketing. I grew up in a house that didn't have a lot of money, so we rarely bought what was trendy (except for maybe that pair of red Air Jordans, which I'm still not sure how we afforded).

I grew up, basically ignoring advertisers. As an adult, I found ads to be disingenuous, as if companies were trying to trick people into buying their products. (To my credit, many were.)

So, when my job title had the word "marketing" attached to it, I cringed. However, over the past three years of serving with Adventures In Missions, I've learned that marketing can be more than tricking people. It can actually mean giving people what they want.

Moreover, I've learned that really great marketing involves an authentic story that people can relate to. I always did love stories.

Seth Godin helped me realize this -- ironically with a book that called marketers "liars."

All Marketers Are Liars is a book about the stories that people tell themselves and then believe. It's not really about lying, but rather about how authenticity is the best marketing tool of all.

Godin, in typical pundit fashion in this book, pokes fun at traditional advertisers' outdated methods of pushing their messages out to the masses. He argues that people have always communicated important ideas via stories, and they have always believed those stories.

People relate to stories. They are motivated and inspired by them, but only when they are given a story that is authentic and believable, a story that they can tell themselves over and over again and feel good about it. Depending on the person's worldview, they may receive certain stories differently. It is the marketer's responsibility to find out what this worldview is and speak to it in a relevant, believable way.

Of course, as Godin is divulging this information, he acknowledges that this can (and will) be abused, but he thinks that mostly it will help consumers better understand how they can be manipulated, so that they won't.

With the advent of social media and web-based communication, stories have once again become the best way to advertise -- perhaps, the only way to do so in a marketplace that is now over-saturated with traditional advertising.

In All Marketers Are Liars, Seth Godin asks what kinds of stories you're telling with your marketing and whether or not people are actually believing them. Recently re-released with a new cover (indicating that marketers aren't liars, but rather storytellers) and preface, this book is just as relevant today as when it first came out.

Needless to say, I no longer hate marketing. I kind of love marketing, actually. At least, I love the kind that is authentic, the kind of marketing that inspires change and mobilizes people to change the world.

If you've had a distaste for marketing as I have had most of my life, this book may actually be a refreshing read for you. I recommend it, among some of Godin's other books, such as Purple Cow, Tribes, and Linchpin. These are great practical books for anyone who is wanting to do new and exciting things in their workplace and in need of some inspiration to break the rules.

For more on All Marketers Are Liars, visit the Squidoo page I put together for the book.