For Life

One of the most helpful bits of advice I received with regard to managing and motivating a workforce was how to form an appeal. The abridged version is this: people have different reasons for following a directive. Some will do it out of a sense of pride in the company or the team; some will comply because they respect you, the boss, and seek to please you; some will only follow if they perceive personal gain. If you, as a supervisor can take to time to find what motivates them, you can succeed in getting them to do as you ask. Pretty good advice if you think about it.

The other day, I came across a "souvenir" from my grandmother's grammar school. Just below the date it reads: Not for school but for life we learn. Motivation. In this case, it's not about simply getting passing grades or making it to the end of a semester or the next twelve years; it is for life --my life-- I choose to learn. I'll confess, that's not exactly how I viewed my tenure in elementary school or high school, for that matter. I lived from test to test or paper to paper; scholastically, what happened in between was of little consequence to me. I just wanted a passing grade; learning was not my motivation (I was a box-checker even then). 

But I have come to realize just how foolish an approach that was. So often I have rued the days I did not pay attention in Mr. Walton's Christian Perspectives class or Miss Williamson's World History class. Learning means something, and it means something to life --mine as well as the lives of those around me. Getting a grade, even holding a diploma in my hands is a hollow victory if I can't recite one useful piece of information or process and apply what I have learned.

Is learning something we should merely do for ourselves? Of course not, but in order to effectively convince anyone of anything, we have to first believe it, know it, and be committed to learning as much as we can about what it is and why we believe it. We need to learn in order to benefit others. In becoming who God has called us to be, in giving our best effort, in stretching and growing as human beings, we elevate the entire order. We inspire others to achieve, we lead others to know difficult things can be possible, we share our lessons with others in the hopes they will break our records and outdo our performance, and we construct a springboard with our lives from which others may launch to greater heights and far into the future.

And, with regard to souvenirs, most of us carry a camera with us wherever we go. We commemorate our lunches, for Pete's sake! Why? Hopefully, we do it to remind ourselves not that we ate, but what the journey to fullness looked like, tasted like. What good is knowing that we ate --our bellies should tell us as much; but it's the knowing what we ate and with whom that should be worth remembering. That's what makes life --the savoring, the experiencing, the odyssey.

We are individuals but we are not islands. Our actions matter. Our inaction matters. It is for life we learn --our life, the lives of those around us, and the perpetuity of humanity.

Thrive!

I was in my twenties when I was hired to work loading and unloading aircraft for UPS. It was physical; I was outdoors in all sorts of weather and my coworkers were by majority, middle-aged men. I loved it! When I accepted a supervisory position, it was less physical, still outdoors, and now I was leading said middle-aged men. I had to get tough fast. My bosses expected the work to get done according to specifications, safely, and in a timely fashion. My employees wanted to earn their checks with as little aggravation as possible and get on with their lives. I was trying not to get crushed between the two, sometimes warring, factions and I was miserable. I'd been promoted rather quickly, had no experience managing anything more than a small jewelry kiosk staffed with female employees who, like me, were in their twenties; I really knew very little about the company and its methods, and most of the equipment was foreign to me. I was struggling, and my manager at the time did little but put me on probation. Enter a valiant knight, a new manager, who took me off probation (What does that do for somebody who just isn't cut out for this? he scoffed) and assured me he would see me fired if I didn't do every last thing he said. Now that may not sound like your typical hero, but for me it was exactly what I needed. He watched my every move, called me out when I messed up, questioned my every decision (He was from Kentucky, so it always sounded like Why in the Sam Hill would you go and do something like that?!), and dropped these wonderful little nuggets of truth and wisdom all along my path, leaving it up to me to retrieve them. He held me accountable, communicated that change was not only necessary but possible, commended and encouraged me in his own ambiguous way (If you're reading, Tom, it was the twinkle in your eye that gave you away), and made me completely responsible for my own success or failure. He gave me a kick in the pants that was just unpleasant enough that I did whatever I could to avoid another one. And I thrived!

In reading John's account of the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11), we see a Jesus who is tender, compassionate, confrontational, just, slow to speak, wise, and the Jesus who holds those He saves accountable. This woman had, in ways, been railroaded: Levitical law required both the adulterer and the adulteress to be put to death (Where was he?); she was dragged, presumably, naked through the streets for the sole purpose of trapping Jesus in His interpretation of law. Jesus had compassion on her, would not allow her to be used any longer, but He didn't give her a pass either. Go, and sin no more, He said. He was holding her accountable: You are not condemned, you are free to live a new life, but you are now responsible for your decisions. We are not told what she made of her life after that moment. Jesus told her, Go. Go where? Back to her husband? Did she have a husband? What decisions did she make?

Jesus calls us to the same. Salvation is not a static condition. Eternal life is not something followers of Jesus are given "one day;" as followers of Jesus, we have eternal life from the moment we relinquish control of our temporal existence to the One who belongs on the throne of our hearts. Eternal life is as much about the nature of our lives than the length. We are made clean, new, free to live a different kind of life, but we are responsible for our decisions. We have the wisdom of Torah; we have the Holy Spirit who speaks to our spirit, guiding us and convicting us of sin; we have other saints to teach and encourage us --nuggets of truth and wisdom scattered along our path-- but it is our responsibility to retrieve and utilize them.

Looking back, I marvel at the way Tom's style and mine came together. Or maybe he was just that intuitive, he knew what it took to motivate all sorts of people. Whatever it was, he gained an employee he could rely on, and I learned things I appreciated and applied all throughout my career. Jesus has even more to offer. What sort of life is the Lord calling you to lead? Are you offended by some of His challenges? Or do you understand the depths of His love for you and His desire to see you become the best human you can be? Are you willing to be corrected and held accountable that you might be a part of something you never knew existed? Do you desire to thrive on the path of an eternal kind of life?

Life With My Shepherd

For the last few months, I have really been digging in to the 23rd Psalm. Just a little background: when my father passed, my half-brother was preparing to conduct the service; he asked for a specific portion of Scripture that, perhaps, to my father was meaningful, and my mother suggested Psalm 23. At the time, I bit back all my snarky, judgmental, and ungodly thoughts about her response. My mother's choice of Psalm 23 "fit the profile," so to speak, of a religious woman trying to appear as though she knew what she was talking about. And I was bitter about the religion and hypocrisy in which I was raised. Additionally, my father always told me his "life's verse" was Proverbs 3:5,6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths.

Psalm 23, or rather, my mother's choice of it, was another reminder of just how out of touch my parents were with one another.

BUT GOD... He is giving me another chance. And, just like God, He is using some of the same players and same mile markers to do it. (I think He does this so that those of us who tend to be a little slower at learning can recognize just how He is taking us down the same paths. Think of Peter, being restored in John 21, so many familiar reminders: a great catch of fish, Peter plunging into the sea and racing toward his Lord, the smell of the fire as Jesus cooked them breakfast --fish and bread, and the three times Jesus questioned Peter's devotion.) God has inserted my mother into my story in a BIG way. After living with us for eight years, she is now in a nursing facility; but just weeks before she left, I had begun reciting with her the 23rd Psalm. It brought me comfort and I pray, stirred something within her heart and her memory to do the same for her as we navigated this difficult path. That was precipitated by an interview I had heard, an interview with Jeremy and Monica Chambers (the son and daughter-in-love of my now in heaven half-brother who all those years ago conducted my father's homegoing). Additionally, I'd been sent a beautiful poem months before, another tasty little morsel along this trail of restoration. The poem was so lovely, I ordered the book, not realizing the impetus for the author's writing was Psalm 23. In The Book of Common Courage, K.J. Ramsey unpacks this psalm with her writings and meditations. If I could add another mile marker, the bringing to my attention the poetry of Leslie Bustard, a daughter of God also providentially relocated, recently stirred a long dormant love for poetry and the Psalms. And three years ago, when things got really dark for me, I resolved to work toward fitness --body, mind, and spirit-- including dealing with all of that anger and unresolved bitterness I had toward my parents. To know that God has brought me to Psalm 23 as part of that process might be considered ironic if it wasn't so typical of Him. 1 Corinthians 1:27-31 (NLT) says:

Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful. God chose things despised by the world, things counted as nothing at all, and used them to bring to nothing what the world considers important. As a result, no one can ever boast in the presence of God. God has united you with Christ Jesus. For our benefit God made him to be wisdom itself. Christ made us right with God; he made us pure and holy, and he freed us from sin. Therefore, as the Scriptures say, 'If you want to boast, boast only about the Lord.'

Ironic maybe; some of those "mysterious ways" in which people tend to claim God works perhaps. Definitely another mile marker on this journey of life with the Shepherd, my Shepherd, and yours also, if you will allow Him to lead you.

Setting Limits? Or Exceeding Them?

A "limited edition" possesses more worth than something produced quickly, economically, and for everyone to enjoy. A weight limit restricts usage to those who don't meet the standard. A speed limit tends to be regarded as the least you can do for those following you. A child growing up in his big brother's shadow can be discouraged by its limitations or propelled to greater heights. In short, limits can be confusing. They can be good for those within them, like not receiving a speeding ticket. They can also be good for those who exceed them, like a record-breaking run. Limits can --well, limit, or limits can challenge and inspire. They can keep you safe or keep you bound.

At the annunciation of Jesus' virgin birth, the angel told Mary, "For with God, nothing will be impossible." Nothing. No limits. Which means everything is possible. Frederick Buechner writes, "God is the master of the impossible, and He is a master of the impossible because in terms of what man thinks possible, He is in the end, a wild and impossible God." Not wild as in unruly or chaotic, but wild as in "exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask or imagine." (Eph. 3:20, 21) He is the God of virgin birth as well as the God of life from a corpse. He is the God of a blind man who became a seeing man and a woman who kept her past hidden so deeply she chose to draw water in the heat of the afternoon. God knew it anyway. He is the God of trees from nothing and fish from His word and days that keep on coming one right after the other unless He says otherwise. He is the God of a bagged lunch feeding thousands and a soaking wet altar bursting into flame. He is the God of walls big and thick enough to build a house on falling at the sound of trumpets and a sea that stands at attention as slaves make their way to freedom. He is the God of poisonous snakes whose bite doesn't kill and ravenously hungry lions that refuse to eat kosher. He is the God of beautiful flowers and bright green grass as well as terrifying-looking cheribum (not those chubby little darlings in the buff) with two pairs of wings and four faces. He is the God of kings and presidents and corporate executives and bank CEOs and short order cooks and people who acknowledge Him and people who don't. He is the God who heals hangnails and weeps over war-ravaged ghettos. He is God of the impossible, the God before whom mountains melt like wax and hardened criminals bow. He is the God who does not disregard limits but lovingly establishes them, for our protection and happiness and confirmation as the best image bearers we can be; and He will not be limited in any way but by His own true character. He is not only superior but exclusive; He is the first and the last; and in the hearts and minds of His children He deserves not just to be present but preeminent. He is the God who loves His children and has established laws for their protection and happiness. 

So, what about the limits in your life? Have you been told you will never be enough? Have you believed it? Have you been sent to prison, rendered infertile, raped, handed a slow death sentence, addicted, lost a spouse, scammed out of your retirement fund, beaten brutally by someone you trusted? Have you allowed yourself to be limited by those things? Has your disregard for boundaries left you filled with shame and regret --shame and regret that have become the barbed-wire fence around your life? Do you simply need a miracle in your current situation? Seek out the God of limits, the one who sets them and exceeds them for His glory and the good of His people.