5 leadership truths I’ve learned from my children
1. Don’t root your identity in what people think
2. Have fun
That’s the number of pieces in the Lego set my son and I are building. It’s called the Death Star, and it’s even more epic than I anticipated. He saved his money for a long time to get it, and it hasn’t disappointed. Every single day, Rex asks if we can build a little more of it. So naturally, I’ve used it as the hook to “finish your homework then we can build a little.”
I love the time spent with my son, using our minds and our hands together. It’s good for his development, and for mine. It’s good for our relationship. And I’ve found that we can have meaningful discussions about the most important things in life while we’re working together…even more so than if we were to sit down and have a face-to-face talk. Boys seem to respond better talking side-by-side.
But enough about that.
Did you know that you can learn a little about leadership development* from Legos? (actually, you can learn a bit about leadership from almost every aspect of life if you look for it)
No person has ever built themselves either. There are no truly self-made men/women. We are all a product of the communities where we live: our city, our church, the 5 people closest to us, our small group, our hobbies, our experiences, etc.
If you want to grow in your leadership, surround yourself with people who lead like you want to lead.
Development happens in the doing, not simply in the “learning.” It’s as you lead that you learn to lead. Books, seminars, and Ted talks can only take you so far. I’ve heard it said that “community” is both a goal and the means of achieving the goal, of the Church. The same is true of leadership development.
Leadership development is both the goal and the means of achieving it.
Knowing what you’re developing towards is important, otherwise you’re just spinning your wheels. But when you have a destination in mind, it gives you the freedom to know what to say yes to…and what to turn down. It points you in the direction you need to go. We are all lumps of clay in the hand of the potter, who makes of us something beautiful and useful, giving our daily grind purpose and meaning.
Without a destination, you’ll hit it every time.
Leadership development is not simply a series of formulas you follow. You can’t check all of the boxes and magically be developed. The development happens as you improvise throughout life. That’s called wisdom.
Leadership is a purpose-driven art.
Our development will be fraught with mistakes. And there’s a tool we need day after day after day: grace. Grace for others. And grace for ourselves. Grace that we’re not perfect, nor will we ever be. (there’s also a proactive tool to help us make fewer mistakes: constantly learning)
Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. – Paul, 2 Corinthians 12:8-9
Leadership development isn’t a “thing” you put on your to-do list. It’s a process that changes throughout life, in different seasons, ups and down, highs and lows. Different seasons expose different weaknesses that invite more development.
Have the end in mind, but remember that the best leaders are always in development.
*another word for “leadership development” is discipleship. Because we’re called as followers of Jesus to be disciples, constantly learning and growing in the way we know, love, follow, and lead others to do the same.
I have a 2 year old daughter. She’s equal parts spunk and sass. She’s a spitfire, and I am crazy about her. Even at her young age, she’s got a mind of her own. She knows what she wants, and will stop at nothing to get it.
But she does this thing. Every time we get in the car, after I buckle her into her carseat and start the car, she takes her shoes off. Every. Single. Time.
If you know anything about putting shoes on kids, you know that this isn’t the easiest task in the world. Kids tend to be a bit squirmy. And if you know anything about the way little kids take their shoes off, you know that they don’t just place them neatly beside each other. They place/launch them into two totally different places.
So when she takes her shoes off in the car, they’re not placed on the edge of her car seat. One is under the passenger’s seat, and the other has somehow been lodged under the floor mat of the trunk. Don’t ask me how that happens.
It’s so frustrating, because every time we get out of the car, I have to go on a hunt for her shoes, then deal with her little feet that want to go any direction except towards the front of her shoes.
But I realized something just the other day that motivates her taking her shoes off.
She has no clue how far we are going.
Confession: I take my shoes off on long trips when I’m driving. It’s more comfortable that way. I can relax a little more when my shoes are off than when they’re on. The difference between me and my daughter, though, is that I know how long the trip is going to take. I don’t take my shoes off if I’m driving 5 minutes to the grocery store.
My daughter does. And that’s because she doesn’t know if the trip we’re on is across the country or across the street. If it were a trip across the country, then of course taking her shoes off would be appropriate. All she thinks is, “One time, we took this long trip, and I took my shoes off and it was great, so…”
The same thing can be true with our spiritual lives, too. We hit difficult seasons in life. Everybody does. We hit a tough road at work, at home, with our friends, or with our families. We hit tough financial times, strained marriages, and sicknesses. Pain, frustrations, and chaos seem to hit all at the same time. I know, because I’ve been there.
In these moments, it’s easy to give up on God. Easy to “take our shoes off” because it’ more comfortable, and easy, to give up than to persevere.
We give up too soon. We quit too early. Because we don’t know when the end, the payoff, is coming.
One of my favorite verses in Scripture is Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.
What a hope-filled verse. This is an easy one to quote to someone that’s living in the middle of a confusing, painful life situation.
But most people forget the verse before:
For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.
70 years!! The promise for the hope God has would come after 70 years of living in exile. But hope was coming.
Our question for God is, “Is this a 7 minute situation? Or a 70 year situation?” And do you know what God answers with?
“I got this.”
Maybe your “shoes” aren’t a painful time of “suffering” you’re walking through, but they’re a dream you’ve yet to see realized. You desperately want ______, and God hasn’t granted it yet. If we knew the answer to when our suffering would be over, there would take no faith. We wouldn’t need to trust God, because we’d know with certainty when we’d get what we were wanting.
So I tell my daughter now, “Leave those shoes on. We’ve got some walking to do here in just a sec. I’ll tell you when you can take them off.”
Maybe in our car rides through life, God’s telling us the same thing. He’s got a plan, and a timing, but we’ve got to trust. He knows what He’s doing, so we need to leave our shoes on. Relief is coming, but it’s coming through an avenue we couldn’t have imagined. (Ephesians 3:19-21)
Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. – Deuteronomy 31:5-6
Relief is coming sooner than you think! It may not be exactly when you want, but it’s better than you could dream of.
What is it that you desperately want, but God hasn’t given you?
I tell my kids things all of the time. Over and over. And over and over. If there’s one thing I can say is always true about parenting, it’s that I repeat myself constantly.
If there’s one thing I can say is always true about parenting, it’s that I repeat myself constantly.
It never, ever sticks the first time.
Being from the South, in our family we value manners. We teach our kids to say, “Yes, m’am” and “No, sir” as a way of respecting adults. I’m constantly reminding them to speak with respect. I say it so often that in a meeting just the other day, I instinctively began telling a coworker, “Did you mean to say, “Yes, sir” there?”
As I’ve said these words to my kids so many times, I’ve also found that they work for my own heart. In so many situations, I’ve seen that I need to follow the advice I give to my children. These are some of the principles that my wife and I work to drive home with our kids that translate incredibly well to adults, too.
Oh, how this would change the tone of a disagreement.
“Love is patient and kind…” – Paul, 1 Corinthians 13:4
The Bible talks about this one.
“Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” – Paul, 2 Corinthians 9:6-7
All ideas are not good ideas. If anyone has told you that, they were lying. Adulthood gives us more freedom…which isn’t always a good thing. Tons of options are within your capability of going after…but don’t just chase something because you can. Maturity exercises restraint.
“All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify.” – Paul, 1 Corinthians 10:23
Teamwork makes the dream work. And if you want to endear yourself to someone, help them out with a mess they created.
“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” – Paul, Philippians 2:4
I know that some of the coaching I’ve given out to my peers isn’t believed because they think it’s true. But hopefully they trust what I’m saying because it’s coming from a heart of love.
This needs to be verbalized more often. It creates safety and security. Unconditional love is love that doesn’t require the other person meet a certain condition to be “worthy” of love. In other words, I don’t stop loving you because you messed up…my love for you isn’t conditional.
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” – Jesus, John 13:34
” Do everything without complaining and arguing…” – Paul, Philippians 2:14
If we’d learn how to work well with others, our organizations would be a lot better off.
Take that one to the bank.
“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” – Solomon, Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
Anything you say to your kids that translates to adults, too?
When I was in graduate school, I worked an hourly job as a barista. I loved it, for so many different reasons. The people, the atmosphere, the camaraderie, and the unlimited supply of coffee. I cannot overstate the beauty of that last truth.
A few years later, as I was finishing up school, I took a role on staff at a church. Instead of hourly, I was salaried. No more punching a clock. No more *required* lunch breaks. No more worrying about hitting my *full time* hour mark. A consistent paycheck was a thing of beauty. I wasn’t paid by the hour anymore. Now I was paid regardless of hours. I was paid the same whether I worked 40 hours or 80 hours. I was now being evaluated not based on the time I put in, but by the work I put out. My “grade” was built on the projects I completed. The leaders I recruited. The deadlines I hit. The goals I surpassed.
Being a “doer” by nature, I loved this. I loved tackling new initiatives, writing new curriculums, and building a team to help accomplish it all.
And now I had the flexibility to work from anywhere I chose: the office, a coffee shop, outside, or even my own house. It was amazing.
Until it wasn’t.
Work continued to creep in to family time. What felt like great momentum and progress began to take over my life. I found myself checking emails at any, and all, hours of the night. On my days “off,” I was cranking through writing projects, meeting with leaders, and planning events. And everywhere I turned, I was met with a, “Wow, you’re doing such a great job!”
Encouragement for a job well done is like crack for a “doer’s” soul. It feeds pride, and affirms all of the extra hours devoted, no matter what they cost in the moment.
“Great job!” doesn’t take into consideration the sacrifice that others had to make. It doesn’t factor in the ripple effect that the extra hours during family dinner had. Or the toll that it took when you scheduled a “working lunch” instead of capitalizing on time with your family. “Great job!” feeds the visible, outward-facing side of a completed project. The place where pride loves to hang out.
What I found was that every time I sent an email during family time, I was telling them that work was more important.* I was putting in all kinds of overtime for my job, and slighting the ones I loved the most.
Being in a salaried role, you may not be tracking your hours. But your family is. [Tweet that]
I was tired of putting my family second to my job. Even though my “job” is my calling from God, my priorities were out of whack. My family is my primary calling.
God has placed your family under your care. And if you abdicate your role, you are spurning a gift God has given you. A beautiful, precious, and at times fragile gift. One that’s not easily gained, but in a moment can be lost.
Children are a gift from God. A reward. (Psalm 127:3) And a spouse? “Fathers can give their sons an inheritance of houses and wealth, but only the LORD can give an understanding wife.” (Proverbs 19:14)
My family is my primary calling. And so is yours. It doesn’t matter if you’re a full-time vocational minister or not. If God’s blessed you with a family, that’s your first calling. And it’s your job to guard your time with them, and treat it as the gift it is intended to be in your life.
Here are 5 ways I intentionally guard my time.
1. No more emails buzzing my phone.
When I feel my phone buzz, like Pavlov’s dog I have to check. Until I do, I twitch. So I turned off the buzz, and do you know what happened? I stopped twitching.
2. Calendar my Sabbath.
I actually block off time on my calendar for my day off every week. But even this hasn’t always worked. I’d block off the time, but still find a way to squeeze in an hour or two here and there. So in addition to calendaring my day off, I had to actually honor that.
Those are two different, but equally important, tasks.
3. Capture ideas, but don’t act on them.
If you’re like me, inspiration never strikes at the perfect moment. I don’t have the grand idea when I have my computer open. I have it when I’m almost asleep at night. Or when I’m in the middle of a meeting. Or…on my day off.
So I started working out this thing with my wife, where I’d tell her exactly what I’m doing: I’m jotting down an idea so I won’t forget it.
Because if I don’t capture that idea, I’ll be haunted by it, not able to think about anything else until I record it.
Quick. Easy. Done. Back to my family.
4. Take pictures, but don’t post them.
This was a big one. Because I’d take my phone out of my pocket to capture a moment, then when I went to post it to Instagram I’d get sucked in to the web of social media. Then I’d remember that email I had to send. Then I’d text a co-worker. By the time I’d blinked, an hour had passed.
So now I just use my camera app, take the picture, then post later.
It’s an easy step, and one that keeps me engaged with my family.
5. Get up early.
When I need to get extra work done, just like you do, I get up extra early. If a sacrifice has to be made, I’m going to be the one to make it, not my family. I’ll work when it’s inconvenient for me. My wife and kids aren’t naturally up at 4 am.
6. Be present.
When I’m with my family, I work hard to be with my family. It sounds simple, but removing distractions so that I can live life in the moment with those I love communicates loads of value.
I’m still not perfect at this. It’s a work in progress. But I’m continuing to take steps in the right direction. Oftentimes, it’s 2 steps forward, then 1 step backwards. But I’m moving in the right direction.
At least, I think I am. You’re probably better off asking my wife, though.
*There are times when emails and phone calls need to be taken on a day off. I get it. Emergencies happen. I’m talking more about patterns of behavior here, not one-offs.
I’m not a pastor’s kid, but I’m raising two of them. And I’m scared to death.
My prayer for my kids is often, “Lord, help them to not, because of me and the church where I serve, hate your bride.” It’s easy when daddy spends his work day, and many evenings, serving a local body of believers, for kids to grow bitter. Instead of seeing life transformation and community-building, grace-infusing work being done, they see a “job” that takes daddy away from home. They see a group of people that expects more out of them than they can give. They have unfair expectations thrust on them that they didn’t choose, but were chosen for them.
That’s why I’m pumped about Barnabas Piper’s new book, The Pastor’s Kid (releases July 2014). Because I don’t want my two children to grow up despising the church.
Check out this trailer.
I had a little time off for the holidays. Oh, how nice it was. I mean, I love my job. I absolutely love it.
But being with my family for an extended amount of time? That’s hard to beat.
I built countless Lego sets with my son. TV binged with my wife. Changed…oh so many…poopy diapers. Took scooter rides around the neighborhood. Slept in. Stayed up late. Put together toys for Christmas morning. Read through, and colored through, the Advent. Worshipped with my family. And at the end of the day, I rested. I Sabbathed. And I needed it as much as the rest of my family.
I need to let you in on a little secret, though.
Tending to our home, and our 2 kids, was no small feat.
Yes, my wife was there. The whole time. But I tried to take a load off of her plate as much as I could. I changed every dirty diaper. Tended to every tear. Made peanut butter sandwiches. Disciplined the whines. Hugged the “injuries.” Cleaned the kitchen. Vacuumed the rug. Made the bed. And did whatever it took to give my wife a little break.
And through this, my respect level for my wife has gone through the roof.
The day-to-day operations of raising children, keeping the house straight, making meals, and keeping your sanity is more difficult than you could imagine, especially if you’ve never done it before. Or if you imagined it was a fairly easy job.
As soon as one kid is fed, the other needs help. Then the other is crying. Then you’re having someone over for dinner, so the house needs to be straightened up. And dinner needs to be started. And…oh wait, dirty diaper again.
If you’ve ever
said thought that stay-at-home moms have it easier than working dads, I’m calling you out. Right here, right now.
Moms have the most difficult, rewarding, exhausting, frustrating, chaotic, never-finished, messy, no-book-can-tell-you-what-to-do, thankless, joy-inducing, tear-stained, God-ordained, grace-filled job in the world.
A mom’s thankless work is never done. [Tweet that]
To think otherwise is to think too little of the work that moms do. To think otherwise is to downplay a task you either
1. Have never done.
2. Are terrible at.
To be an excellent mom takes your heart, mind, and body. It takes Jesus working in you and through you to sustain you. And to keep you from losing it each and every moment of the day, which is a very real and present option. I felt myself teetering on the brink of going crazy many times.
Motherhood is a calling. In my opinion, it’s one of the most difficult.
Thank you, Laura Reed. I love you even more.
To my mom, for putting up with my brother and me…you’ve got crowns upon crowns in heaven coming your way.
To all moms: don’t give up on your children. They need your grace, love, correction, hope, hugs, and cookies, because sometimes only a freshly-baked batch of cookies will do the trick. [Tweet that] I know this first hand.
An excellent wife, who can find? For her worth is far above jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life … Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she smiles at the future. She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and bless her; her husband also, and he praises her, saying: ‘Many daughters have done nobly, but you excel them all.’ Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised. – Proverbs 31:10-12; 25-30
I’m not a new dad. I guess I’m what you’d call a “new again” dad. It’s been 5 years since I had a newborn at the house, and in that time I forgot a thing or two.
There are a few things that I learned the first time around that I naturally, intuitively, do this time. Things that I think would’ve made life a lot easier the first time. Things that I had to learn the hard way on round one.
Now that round two’s here, things are a little more smooth-sailing.
Because here’s the honest truth: in the first few month’s of a baby’s life, dads aren’t essential. We don’t produce milk, which is essential for life. And that could cause us to disengage, and leave everything up to mom.
But there’s a better way. A way to be fully engaged, fully present, and fully helpful during this first season.
1. Learn how to change a diaper.
Come on, fellas. Plug your nose. Resist your gag reflex. And dive in. It’s not that difficult, and in the process, there’s a good bit of bonding that takes place. Talk to your baby, and look at this as another moment you can steal with them.
2. Learn to be full of grace.
Moms are operating on a lack of sleep. They’re emotionally frazzled. They’re giving of themselves in a more physical, spiritual, and emotional way than they ever have. As a dad, be full of grace. Overflowing with it. She’ll love you for it.
3. Learn to do your honey-do list. Now.
You’re living in a fog of little-to-no sleep. Of life being out of the normal flow. And you feel like life couldn’t get any more chaotic. But hear me when I say this: life doesn’t get less busy or less complicated. Plow through your check-list of chores now. Don’t put it off.
4. Learn how to make a great cup of coffee.
Use a chemex. Or a French Press. Or a v60 Hario. Just learn to make a good cup of coffee. It’s essential.
5. Learn how to curb your tongue.
You can start a fire more quickly with your tongue than you can with a match. When emotions are high, sleep is low, and our physical bodies are out of their normal rhythm, our words are even more powerful.
Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. – James 3:3-6
6. Learn how to capture tiny moments.
Like going on a lunch date when your mother-in-law is in town. Or going to a movie in-between feedings. Or letting your spouse leave the house for a while as you watch the baby.
7. Learn how to do the dishes.
Performing menial-seeming tasks like washing the dishes, washing the clothes, and vacuuming the floor are huge helps to a mom that’s giving of herself to feed, nurture, and grow another human being.
8. Learn how to function on very little sleep.
…because you’re not going to get much. My secret? See #4, above.
9. Learn how to be on full-alert in a moment’s notice.
Even when you’re relaxed, even when you’d rather sit on the couch, even when you’d rather finish reading that page, even when you’d rather keep your eyes closed because you’re (not half-, but fully) asleep…hop up. Put your self-serving needs aside. And change that diaper. Put that pacifier in. Rock your baby. Talk to him/her. Clean the spit-up. Burp them. Do whatever it takes. In a split-second.
10. Learn how to talk with a baby that won’t talk back to you.
This one’s tough. And to be honest, it feels kinda weird. But I’ve found that a baby will listen no matter what you say. So talk about your day at work. Talk about what’s frustrating you. Talk about what you love. Talk about football. Baseball. Or your favorite band. Sing a song to them. They just want to hear your voice.
11. Learn to be at your wife’s beckon call.
She is growing a human being. With her body! Your problems are minor right now. Your convenience doesn’t matter. Your frustrations are miniscule. Your headaches are bushleague. Suck it up and love your wife with all you’ve got. Pour your heart and soul into serving her. And even after your child grows up…don’t stop this one.
To sum it up, at the end of the day, learn how to apply this verse in the context of your family:
Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. – Paul, Philippians 2:4
My wife and I just had a little girl. It’s been nearly 5 years since we’ve had an infant in the house. And in that 5 years, I forgot a lot about what it was like to have a baby in your life.
I didn’t forget the sleepless nights. Or the crying for food. Or the dirty diapers. Or the sweet, teeny-tiny hands.
But I did forget a lot.
If it’s been a while since you’ve had an infant in the house, I bet you’ve forgotten some things, too.
1. Bottles and such. Everywhere.
Everywhere I turn, there’s a bottle. Or a pacifier. Or some other kind of baby swag. It’s like a baby store exploded all over the house.
2. Germ aversion
Everywhere we go now, I’m on the lookout for germs. Every time I touch something other than my own hands, I’m reaching for the Purell to sanitize that junk right off of my hands. Can’t have germs getting on an infant. I’m working now to find a Purell body spray for everybody that comes to visit our house.
3. That car seat is heavy!
I forgot that lugging that car seat around gets heavy! Just a quick trip to the store leaves you with a sore arm. And a massive bicep.
4. Sweet baby squeaks
Oh how I love these little sounds. They’re not quite “coos” yet…they’re just random squeaks and grunts. While they sleep, these happen a ton. And they melt your heart.
5. Leaving the house is an ordeal.
To leave the house, you’ve got to take enough supplies to take care of an army. From diaper bags to pack-n-plays to extra wipes and sleepers. And be sure to not forget the bottles. (see above)
6. When you put them in a spot, they stay.
Kinda forgot about this benefit. 5 year olds don’t really stay in one spot. But infants sure do!
At no other time in my life am I able to jump out of bed at the slightest sound of a grunt, and be on full-alert in less than 2 seconds. Never. Before my wife finishes, “Honey, can you check…” I’m out of the bed, from the middle of a deep sleep, huddled over the crib. Heart racing. Shallow breaths. Ready to check out my little girl, then run a marathon.
8. So. Many. Diapers.
We go through 8-10/day. And our doctor calls that “good.” And the more poopy they are, the better. I think.
9. What day is it?
I honestly have no idea what day it is anymore. I’m barely confident what month we’re in. I can judge that based on the fact that I know what month my baby was born. And I’m fully confident that it’s 2011. Right?
10. My heart? Melted. Instantly.
As difficult as the first few months of a newborn’s life can be,
melts my heart. And I’m wrapped tightly around her little finger once again. Every single day.
How long has it been since you’ve had a newborn at home? Anything here you’d forgotten?
I love to run. That’s no secret. I’m among the <.03% of people that actually looks forward to long runs in oppressingly hot, humid weather. I look forward to my feet pounding the pavement, the the breeze (or lack thereof) whipping through the low spots, and the feeling at the end that, though I’m lying on the ground in a pool of my own sweat, I’ve done something significant. Though, in ultimate irony, I arrive at the same place I started.
My son’s developing this love as well. When he sees me getting ready for a run, he gets ready, too. He ties his shoes on extra tightly. Gets his bottle of water squared away. And queues up the songs he wants to hear as we run.
It’s simultaneously cute and manly.
He runs in ~.5 mile stretches. He’ll run ahead of me for a bit, taunting me as he looks back. Or he’ll run right beside me, talking about how much he loves being outside.
Then .5 mile hits, and he gets bored.
So he starts feigning exhaustion. Breathing hard. Retching his shoulders. Slowing down his words as if to catch his breath.
“I think…*big inhale, big exhale*…I want to ride in the stroller a while. I’m…*big inhale, big exhale*…getting…*pause for dramatic effect*…a little tired.”
So I strap him in the stroller as we trudge out a few more miles as he jabbers on about monsters, soccer practice, and one of his new-found friends at church.
He wasn’t tired at all! He wasn’t gassed. Wasn’t sore. Wasn’t out of energy.
He just wanted to quit for a while, and he knew what it looked like when daddy was tired. So he did that.
We give up because we get bored. We want something new. Different. Shiny. And what we’ve been doing…well, we’re going to feign exhaustion so we can jump back in the jogging stroller.
And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. – Paul, Galatians 6:9-10
You see what God’s called you to do. You’ve see it more clearly than you ever have.
Your “personal best” is way, way better than your perceived “best.” What you can do, who you can become, and the potential that you can accomplish is massively bigger than the expectations culture places on you. Or what your boss thinks you can do. Or who your spouse thinks you can become.
Because you serve a God that’s bigger than others’ expectations.
You have caught a vision for who God wants you to be. You’ve seen where that idea could lead. You’ve realized who it could impact.
But it’s not shiny anymore. It’s actually kind of boring, and the new smell has worn off. It used to give us energy, but now it feels more like a job.
Don’t. Quit. Now.
You’ll reap nothing if you quit now. They’ll reap nothing if you quit now.
Obedience is found in doing the right thing, even when it doesn’t feel right. Even when it feels boring, mundane, and work-like.
It’s time to keep running.