As Cool As It Gets!

During the holiday season my wife and I were shopping at a large, crowded, retail store when I noticed a couple headed in our direction.  The man waved me down and we settled in behind a Budweiser display in the middle of the aisle to talk. It wasn’t the most unusual place I’ve ever talked about Jesus, but it was unique. “You don’t know me,” he said, “because we’ve never been formally introduced.”   He was a big guy, a man’s man, with a contagious smile.  He told me his name, we shook hands, and his story began.

“My wife and I have been attending OFC for a few months and I’ve wanted to meet you.” He said, “We moved to the area in an attempt to start over.  I had an opportunity for a new job; it didn’t pay much, but it was a start. The people we rented a house from were awesome.  They took us in and helped us get settled. It wasn’t long before they invited us to church.  We refused at first, but they were persistent in a friendly sort of way, so eventually we gave in. Right from the start we felt at home.  A few weeks later with our new friends, we…ummm…” He paused and looked away at this point, “prayed the prayer.”

People were all around us, shopping and talking. Yet in a strange way we were very much alone.  After a moment or two, he began again.

“That made all the difference. “ He looked up with a smile and the trace of a tear on his cheek.  “We love OFC and can’t wait for Sunday to come.  I’ve never been part of a church before,” he said laughing. “I never dreamed I would be, but I am and I love it.”

I congratulated him on his decision to accept Christ and thanked him for the kind words about our church.  Suddenly he stepped forward, put his finger on my chest and said, “But guess what?” I leaned back, with absolutely no clue as to what was going to happen next. “There’s more to this story.  Our landlords, our friends, the people who invited us to church and prayed the prayer with us; they just recently helped us buy our own home.  It’s awesome.  We couldn’t have done it without them.  These people have been amazing to us! God has been so good! I just wanted to say thanks!’”

I thanked him back and we hugged the way a couple of Christian guys do standing behind a Budweiser display in the middle of a store at Christmas.  Then, he went in search of his wife and I went in search of mine.  When I found mine she said, “So what was that about?”  “That,” I said, “was about the church, and is just about as cool as it gets.”  I love the church!

Whatever You Call Me To God

Whatever you call me to God; help me to see it as my opportunity to change the world. At a recent leadership training session, I presented the following quote and asked for participants to guess from a list of multiple choice answers who they thought had said it.  Here’s the quote:

 “There are moments in our lives when we summon the courage to make choices that go against reason, against common sense, and the wise counsel of people we trust.  But we lean forward nonetheless because despite all risks and rational argument, we believe that the path we are choosing is the right and best thing to do. We refuse to be bystanders, even if we do not know exactly where our actions will lead.  This is the kind of passion that sparks romances, wins battles, and drives people to pursue dreams others wouldn’t dare.  Belief in ourselves and what is right, catapults us over hurdles and our lives unfold.  ‘Life is a sum of all your choices,’ wrote Albert Camus. Large or small, our actions forge our futures, hopefully inspiring others along the way.”

Here were the choices I gave them:

1. A military leader
2. A former President of the United States
3. A great athlete
4. The owner of a coffee company

No one selected the correct answer (d), the owner of a coffee company, but (d) was the right answer.  The quote is from Howard Shultz’s book, “Onward” and describes his feelings around making a decision to shut his company down for three hours during business hours so they could return to the basics on how to make great coffee.

Who talks about coffee that way?  Who uses words like courage, passion, romance and dreams when discussing coffee?  The founder and owner of Starbucks, that’s who.

You can tell a lot about how much an individual values something by the way they talk about it.  I remember a quote from “Pistol; The Life of Pete Maravich,” where a 7^th grade Pete is lying in bed listening to his father talk basketball at the kitchen table in the next room.  The boy closes his eyes; the father and friend keep talking, as the narrator states: “I remember drifting off to sleep night after night listening to my father talk about his two favorite things, basketball…and me.”

God please keep me from ever trivializing life. Forgive me for failing to recognize the courage, passion, romance, and dreams you have created me to know.  May I approach each day as a gift and your purpose for me as a sacred calling.  Whatever you call me to, help me to see it as my opportunity to change the world.  Amen.

"The Slow Pace of Pride"

As part of our commitment at OFC to be principle driven leaders, I have made a list of more than 75 principles that guide our actions and decisions.  Numbers 59 and 60 have to do with pride and humility. John Dickson, in his book “Humilitas,” studies the power of humility through history, both recent and ancient.  His discoveries are amazing.  One point he makes is about how a lack of humility impacts leadership and is entitled “The Slow Pace of Pride.”  The phrase alone is worth the price of the book. I’ve spent several days thinking about this sentence.

If the idea has to be mine, then what of the ideas I never come up with?  Pride slows creativity because it fears failure.  Pride inhibits teamwork because it continually compares and competes. Pride slows progress because it rehearses past victories and defends past defeats.  Pride stagnates thinking because it refuses fresh water from an outside source.  Pride poisons relationships because it pursues being first. Pride’s pouting pollutes passion. Pride misses new discoveries because it didn’t think there were any. After all, what’s to learn if you have it all figured out?

Pride kills a leader because it destroys trust. Pride focuses on blame instead of breakthroughs. Pride stumbles and falls because it is blind. Pride stays down when it falls because it refuses to admit it has fallen.  Remember the old commercial that used the phrase “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up?” Pride would never say that because pride stays on the floor and claims it hasn’t fallen, the world is just on its back.

Pride believes it can hear without listening. Pride believes it sees without actually looking. Pride is convinced it understands without considering.  Pride refuses coaching.  Pride is pitiful poor, blind, and naked…but doesn’t know it.  The gears of progress grind to a halt under the pressure of pride.

I have a friend who teaches struggling elementary students in a computer class. Living with a learning disability makes every day in the classroom a challenge.  They are a brave lot and she is a courageous teacher.  One day she announced they would not be able to work on the computers because the system was down.  She gave them handouts and proceeded to make the best of a bad situation.  About 30 minutes into a 45 minute class one of the students raised his hand.  When recognized, he said he wasn’t sure what was wrong with everyone else’s computers, but his wasn’t working because it wasn’t plugged in.  My friend looked down and discovered hers wasn’t either.  She canceled the call to I.T. and spent the rest of the hour with her class plugging in computers and laughing.

Dare I say, there are teachers, pastors, factory workers, cab drivers, as well as doctors, lawyers, and architects who would have explained to the student it was “more complicated than that” and he needed to get back to work on his handout.  Oh, the slow pace of pride.

The thing about pride is it's a human condition. Egos come with humanity; hence have a tendency to be fragile.  Yes, I said “ego.”  You have one.  Please don’t assume the arrogant position you don’t.  I bet I could call witnesses from your home and workplace that would testify otherwise.

While pride is a human condition, it is also a deadly sin which must be dealt with.  Don’t ignore this cold or it will turn into leadership pneumonia.  Recognize it when it hits you and get help.  Here are a few commitments I’ve made when I feel the “priffles” (pride + sniffles of self-pity) coming on:

Pounce on it.    Whether it’s a bruised ego or a boastful spirit; keep yourself on a short leash.

Repent of it.     Ask the one whose scars represent the price paid for your pride to forgive you.

Intentionally choose humility. If there is conflict, own some of it. (Oh yes you do!) Apologize without an asterisk. Give away credit without a comma.

Distinguish between confidence and pride.  Note that I did not say “self-confidence” and “pride.” The confidence that comes with humility does not reside in self...that’s another blog altogether.

Embrace the beatitudes. (Matthew 5:1-12)

Good luck and keep your eyes open for raised hands.  The pace of your progress will be directly related to your ability to recognize them.

Oops, I Forgot My ID!

Desmond Bishop forgot his ID. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d misplaced it; after all he is a grown man.  I’m sure over the years he’d left it behind a few times.  We all have. There’s no feeling quite like realizing the red lights in your rear view mirror are for you and you don’t have your wallet.  Or, waiting patiently in the check-out line until it’s your turn, and then patting empty pockets looking for your debit card which isn’t there. This is especially embarrassing if you’ve grunted a few times while the lady in front of you took extra time searching for her checkbook.

I remember one occasion in particular when I had to convince security at a huge banquet center that they should let me pass even though I didn’t have any ID. I made my case around the argument that they should let me in since I was the guy who just married the couple the very expensive reception was for, and if I wasn’t there to pray for the food, even security might not get to eat.  They let me in.

However, Desmond Bishop was not so lucky.  He didn’t get in, and consequently he missed out on a big deal.  Desmond Bishop is a linebacker for the Super Bowl champion Green Bay Packers and it was Green Bay day at the 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., the White House.  Standing in line, he realized he’d left his ID on the team bus.  He wondered if that would be a problem.  Surely, they would let him in, right?  He’s six foot two, two hundred thirty eight pound, world champion, NFL linebacker, Desmond Bishop.  Everyone knows who he is, right? Nope.  Not the secret service.  I guess they don’t watch a lot of football.  Turns out the only football they’re interested in… is handcuffed to a man’s wrist.  Fumble that one and they’ll shoot you.  But I digress.  Desmond Bishop had no ID and therefore Desmond Bishop was not going to get in.  And so he sat outside and tweeted on his iphone while his teammates partied with the President.  I’m sure he’ll live that down eventually, but it will take a while.

I was thinking about God and how hard it could be to get an audience with him.  How impossible it would be for sinful man to ever stand in his presence, much less ask for help.  And then it got personal.

I remembered...  I remembered how lost I was, how unworthy I was, and confused I was that first day many years ago when I decided to seek His presence.  For that matter, I remembered how lost, unworthy, and confused I was last Tuesday when I needed to hear His voice and sense his presence.  The truth is I was no more worthy last Tuesday, than I was that day more than 2 decades ago when I first sought God.

My problem really was not so much not having an ID as having one.  What should have kept me out was not the fact that I wasn’t known; but the fact I was known.  I knew who I was and knew I was unworthy.  Whoever said “it’s who you know that matters” was right.  I met Jesus and Jesus got me in.  When there was no chance of my purchasing a ticket; Jesus handed me one.  When security would never let me pass, Jesus led me all the way.

"Listening is not a multi-task"

As part of our commitment at OFC to be principle driven leaders, I have made a list of more than 75 principles that guide our actions and decisions.  “Listening is not a multi-task” is #15 on the list.  I don’t remember how long my wife and I had been married when I got my first lesson on listening, though I remember the moment.  We were sitting in the living room, watching television, her perusing a magazine and I a book.  She asked me a question and I responded affirmatively with a nod and a “uh-huh.”  What happened next has been hotly disputed within our family for years.  This is my version.  A pillow came from across the room hitting me, spilling the coffee I was drinking into my lap…where the cat was sleeping.  First there was a girlish scream (mine, I’m afraid.) Have you ever had a cat try to get out of your lap fast? (Don’t judge me.)

What came next was care for the cat, which was fine, and then the question: “Why did you do that?”  Her response was filled with laughter. “For the last few minutes I’ve been talking to the cat and you’ve been responding as if I was talking to you.  You weren’t listening to me. You were just pretending to listen.”  That’s my version and since this is my blog, it’s the only version you’re going to get.  What’s not in dispute is that I was only partially listening.  I heard a sound I recognized to be the voice of someone I loved.  I recognized the need to respond.  I responded, but I did so without hearing what was actually being said. 

Here’s the point: Effective listening is not a multi-task.  Even though I’m still learning how to listen, there are a few things I’ve picked up along the way.

1. The eyes of the listener need to be focused on the person speaking.   
2. The mouth of the listener needs to be closed.  I used to tell my kids when they interrupted me, “I can’t hear you, I’m talking.”  Humans don’t listen well with their mouth open. 
3. The mind of the listener needs to be centered on capturing what is being said, instead of constructing what’s going to be said in response. 
4. The first response after effective listening should be to verify what we’ve heard; not dispatch data as a cure. 

The truth is we won’t always listen the way we should. Sometimes casual conversation results in casual listening.  This isn't all bad; though leaders know that there is a time when listening is the mission of the moment.  Often success depends not on what is said, but on what is actually heard.

"Home"

“Home” (Webster’s Online Dictionary)  “A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.” 

 “Home” is one of the 4 core values at OFC.  Recently, I reflected on what the word “home” meant to me.  Here are a few thoughts:

Home:  A place of forever loves, family feuds, and a whole lot of prayer. Home for me was 809 Central, Tilton Illinois.  I grew up in the house my father began building when he married my Mother on Christmas Day, 1945.

The Butts family lived next door south of us.  They were a nice family, though their name, and what I thought was creative wit, got me at least one spanking a year.  The Liggets lived north of us.  He was a grumpy old guy who would not tolerate his fenced in yard to be intruded upon.  We lost a lot of whiffle balls over there.  The Francis family lived behind us, just across the alley.  This is where one of my best friends, Rick, lived.  I haven’t seen Rick for 30 years, but if he called, if he ever needed anything…I’d like to think I’d go running.

Across the street was McQuistion’s orchard where you could eat delicious green apples until your stomach ached or your bottom did.  Technically, we weren’t supposed to be over there.  Then just north of the orchard, in the little four room, brown block house, across the street from my own, lived big Ed Brown.

Ed was unique.  Ed lived his life in stages.  He went through a hippy stage, a motorcycle stage, and a western stage.  My favorite was the western stage.  While I was playing cowboy in the back yard; Big Ed was sitting in front of his house, leaning back in a chair, smoking a Clint Eastwood cigar and wearing a Clint Eastwood hat.  At his side, was his very real, very loaded six-gun, holstered, and available if needed.   One day, legend has it that Ed fired his six-gun for some reason, and the local police put an end to the western phase.  I never learned why he fired his weapon. No one disappeared from the neighborhood, including Ed; so I figured it was all good.

Ed died a few years later, much too young, from a heart attack.  I always thought it was more of a broken heart that took him out.  A cowboy shouldn’t be separated from his horse or his six-gun.  Ed was left with neither.

My dad arrived home from work every day at 5:30.  On most days, I was glad to see him, but there were a few days when I was not.  You know the kind. The days when at some point my Mother had said earlier in the day, having totally misjudged and unfairly evaluated something I had done… “Just wait till your father gets home.”  I usually greeted him in the driveway with a hug on those days, though it never worked.

I remember Christmas mornings, Easter Sundays, and countless Sunday dinners.  I remember shooting baskets on the small cement court in the back yard when life got confusing.  I remember the day I got my heart broken for the first time when a letter arrived at 809 Central, Tilton, Illinois 61833.  It was from my first girlfriend, a young lady I’d met at Band Camp at the U of I. I was only in the 8^th grade, but suffered a 12^th grade broken heart. She explained the distance, the fact that we never saw each other, and the fact that there was “so much life ahead of us” as reasons she had to break up.  Oh, the drama of it all. I shot a lot of baskets that day.

And there were other moments.  I remember squaring off with my older brother to declare my manhood on that little cement court in the back yard.  I remember the walk home after he’d chased me and my manhood several blocks away before I escaped with my life.  I remember hearing my parents pray in their bedroom which was directly below mine.

There were tears at home sometimes. I remember hearing my mother cry when my uncle died in a car wreck, and my family standing vigil at meals following funerals…my grandfathers, my grandmas. I remember crying myself to sleep the night my sister got married.  I have no idea why, but somehow I knew something had changed and would never be the same.  Pets are buried in the back yard at 809 Central, and if you could sift the dirt for tears, you’d find some there.

Life was different in many ways back then.  Dad worked and didn’t talk much. Dr. Dobson wasn’t around yet to tell him he had too.  Mom gave most of the speeches and Dad dispensed most of the discipline.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was…home.   A place of an occasional family feud, forever loves, and a whole lot of prayer.

(Genesis 2:24) “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.”

"Bitter Generosity"

Every once in a while God adjusts my attitude.  The attitude is self-pity; the adjustment is humility.  Sometimes the adjustment is my idea and He is gentle.  Other times He just slaps it out of me. The headline grabbed my attention.  “Men sue woman they saved from burning SUV.”  Two men, honored as heroes, looked back at their actions and felt slighted.  The article said they sought in excess of $25,000 for physical and emotional damages.  Okay.  I’m not an attorney; so I have no idea what legal recourse the men might have, but it does tarnish the whole “hero” thing, don’t you think?  I was feeling rather high and mighty about all this; then I began to reflect on my own attitude toward serving others.

There is no more miserable existence than to do the right thing for the wrong reason.  To serve others for self, will frustrate others and destroy self.  I suppose it comes with the territory in leadership and ministry.  You begin to look around and think about the sacrifices you’ve made, and how little the world seems to notice.  All of which are magnified when you push the sacrifices made indirectly by your family up in front, and pretend “it’s not about me.”

This isn’t to diminish the extraordinary sacrifices made by clergy, laity, and their families. In ministry, every day priorities are adjusted and comforts are laid down and I know this. So does Jesus.  Consequently, I believe Jesus wants us to experience every ounce of joy that service in His Name can bring.  This is why it matters how we do what we do.

The truth is on our worst day most of us have not been forced to “resist unto blood” as the Scripture states; so we should be grateful.  And most days I am.  But there are other days.  Days like the day I delivered groceries to a family, who had called the church for help, just as their big screen television was being delivered.  I’m pretty sure there won’t be any jewels in my crown for that one.  The best way to describe my attitude was bitter generosity.

And so, in order to actually enjoy ministry, I’ve decided I need to do more than just do what Jesus did. I need to ask God to help me to do it the way Jesus did it. The latter is tougher than the former.  For me, it’s what incarnational ministry is all about; serving with unconditional love and with a risky, dangerous, grace.

It’s one thing to wash feet.  It’s quite another not to whine about it.  It’s one thing to touch a leper.  It’s another not to go “ewwwwwww” when you do. It’s one thing to take a couple steps on water.  It’s definitely another not to broadcast the fact that you did, do a touchdown dance, and offer to sign autographs back in the boat.  It’s one thing to feed the multitudes. It’s another thing not to send them a bill when it’s over.

I have noticed leaders age differently.  Some grow bitter.  Some grow sweeter.  The difference, I believe, is the spirit with which they serve.  Christ gave us the example.  The Holy Spirit will empower us to live and love like Jesus, if we ask Him.  Let’s ask Him.

⁵ Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

⁶ Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, ⁷ but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. ⁸ And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! ⁹ Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, ¹⁰ that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, ¹¹ and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

(Philippians 2:5-11)

"Students, Not Critics"

Guiding Leadership Principles As part of our commitment at OFC to be principle driven leaders, I have made a list of more than 75 principles that guide our actions and decisions.  “Students, Not Critics,” is #73 on the list and is a principle handed down by Andy Stanley.  

I recently heard Andy Stanley recount how as a youth pastor it was frustrating to have older leadership look down their noses at him when he presented ministry initiatives.  Now that he is the “older leadership” he has not forgotten those moments and is committed to not repeating them.  His answer to the dilemma is to make sure he is a student of ministry and not a critic.  It’s a natural thing for leaders to enter any environment with a critical eye.  There are a variety of reasons it happens.  Here are a few:

1. It’s an occupational hazard.  We are so used to analyzing our own environments; we naturally analyze everyone else’s.  As a consequence, our own preferences often pollute our evaluations.
2.  It’s natural.  Natural defenses set in. It seems humans have a default mechanism of criticism. The reality is that whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, whatever work God has done in your heart, you are still human.  The sooner you recognize and remember that, the easier it gets to say “I’m sorry” and live in reality.
3. Ego. Here’s a hard truth you may as well accept.  You have one. An ego, I mean.  If you’re used to leading on the “cutting edge” there will be a natural resistance to change when you discover someone else is cutting the edge.  Ouch.
4. You just want to help.  Okay.  Let’s go with that one.  Do other leaders, yourself, and the people following a big favor, and learn how to lead with encouragement instead of criticism.

Of course there is a time and a place for evaluation.  Stanley was not speaking of a leadership review, but the knee jerk, default, cynical, arrogant, almost gleeful reactions that gut creativity and sabotage growth.

I’ve lived long enough to know I can learn something from everyone around me.  If history teaches us anything; it teaches if it weren’t for the mistakes made early on, big discoveries would never have occurred.  So, instead of criticizing, learn.

By the way, if you ever want to find the one spot in the house you missed when you painted, invite a few friends and relatives in to celebrate the makeover with you.  There’s always one in every family. I just don’t want it to be me.

Snapshots

I could tell by the way he waited patiently in line the elderly gentlemen had something to say.  The funeral had ended, the crowd was exiting, and the family was saying their final goodbyes to their loved one.  Finally, we shook hands and the man began to talk.  “When Micah was 10 years old, I was his school bus driver.   Micah always had something going on.  Life wasn’t easy, but he was a good kid.” He looked up and smiled at me.  “There’s a story I’ve wanted to tell for a while and I was hoping I could tell it to you.” 

We stepped to the side and he continued.  “I was driving the bus one day. It was full of kids and noise. Suddenly, I heard the sound of someone throwing up.  I looked in the mirror and this little girl had made a terrible mess…all over herself, all over the seat. The other kids all backed away and were just staring at her.  She began to cry.  The kids began to laugh and hold their noses.  I couldn’t stop, so I did the best I could to quiet them and comfort her.  The bus grew silent except for an occasional giggle or whisper, and the sound of her tears.  And then I felt a tug on my sleeve.  It was Micah.  ‘Mister, he said, if you’ll give me a paper towel, I’ll help her clean up a little.’  I reached down and handed him the roll of paper towels from the sleeve on the door.  Micah took the towels and walked back down the aisle.”

The man shifted his weight from one leg to the other and looked me in the eye as he continued.  “What happened next, I will never forget.  I only got to see it in snapshots, flashes, as I looked up into the rear view mirror, but I remember it like it was yesterday.  Micah went back, got down on his knees and began to clean up the mess.  Every few moments he would bring the dirty towels up and put them in the trash basket by the door, and then go back and start over again.  Finally, when the mess was cleaned up the best he could, he wiped her face and said something to her.  I don’t know what he said, but she smiled.”

By the time he finished, tears were streaming down my new friends cheeks.  We hugged each other the awkward way strangers do when they realize they’ve just experienced something special together.  I thanked him and promised to tell the story.  Amazing, isn’t it, how one act of kindness endures for 22 years? How snapshots of grace keep their brilliance over time.

A couple of thoughts:

First, my friend Micah was a lot like Jesus that day.  When the rest of the world backs away; Jesus steps in.  When the rest of the world is frozen and doesn’t know what to do; Jesus knows exactly what to do.  When the rest of the world holds their noses; Jesus holds our head.  When the rest of the world whispers and laughs; Jesus speaks peace to our soul.  When everyone around us recoils from the mess we’ve made; Jesus comes to clean it up.  When we find ourselves exposed, sick, humiliated, and alone; Jesus covers us with grace.

Secondly, the mental snapshots you and I create today will last.  Whether they are pictures people see of us whispering and holding our noses recoiling from someone who’s hurt, or kneeling down and serving them, the memory will last.  You can criticize or comfort, but know the pictures will last.  Someone is always watching in a rear view mirror.  What do you want them to see?

Guiding Leadership Principle: Leaders define reality and offer hope.

As part of our commitment at OFC to be principle driven leaders, I have made a list of more than 75 principles that guide our actions and decisions.  “Leaders define reality and offer hope” is #10 on the list. 

My mentor, Dr. Crawford Howe, says the role of a leader in a difficult situation is to “define reality and offer hope.”  It’s the “and” part that gets lost in practice sometimes.

I have known some leaders who were wonderful definers of reality. They could tell you just how bad things were with amazing attention to detail.  Whether it was the national debt or the wages of sin, their approach was almost gleeful.  Assigning blame regularly followed their definition of reality.  By the time these leaders finish preaching on hell; it’s almost as if they’re glad sinners will eventually get theirs, churches will eventually fail, and all things American will collapse.  For these leaders though, the story ends there, with blame and bewilderment as to how someone could be so stupid for so long.  They make a career out of criticism, but lack the courage to respond to the call of duty.

Then there are leaders at the other end of the “and” spectrum.  They ignore reality and blissfully talk of better days.  There is no discussion as to the necessary short term chaos in the interest of long term constructive movement; just rainbows and lollipops, and forgiveness without repentance.  They want everyone to love them, no one to hurt, and consequently everyone perishes.

The truth is whether you are trying to turn a life, a church, a business, or a nation around, there has to be a realistic analysis of where we are, how we got here (assigning blame, however, unless you’re running for office, is almost inconsequential), and the potential for a new day that lies ahead.

And…there is always potential for a new day.  It’s one of the things I love about the Gospel.  Jesus is full of hope.  So, as a leader don’t allow yourself to do one without the other.  Of course, define reality, but also offer hope.

“Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not quarrel or cry out; no one will hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. In his name the nations will put their hope.” (Matthew 12:18-21)