image via Naima Williams

At night, the last thing my wife and I do with our son is pray for, and with, him. One thing we always do is ask him who he’d like to pray for, because we want to get him in the habit of praying for people that he knows and loves. And he’s gotten pretty good at remembering people.

It’s a cool thing to be able to tell our friends and family, “Hey, Rex prayed for you by name last night.”

But lately, I think he’s picked up on the fact that the more names he suggests, the longer that “bedtime” is prolonged.

The more names he suggests, the longer mom and dad stay in my room.

The more names he suggest, the longer the light stays on.

He’s even begun naming, and praying for, things like his Mac Truck, the light (which he immediately reminds us that “Daddy” and “Poppy” fixed), his “Chloe” (a stuffed animal dog he likes to sleep with), his trains, and our family car. He’s prayed for fireworks, monkeys (jury’s still out on why he wants to pray for monkeys…), and lightning bugs. He’s prayed for his hat(s), his sucker, and himself. He’ll pray for my truck, “work,” and church.

And after a couple of these “extras,” I always say, “Ok, Rex, that’s enough. It’s time to go to sleep.” And I kiss him on the forehead, turn off the light, and close his door.

Faith like a child

But I wonder…is this really a ploy by my son to become more manipulative? Or is it a great example of the faith of a child?  Faith that says, “God’s provided these people in our lives…hasn’t He also provided these ‘things’ for our enjoyment and benefit?”

It’s reminded me to slow down. Because I don’t pray for the things he’s praying for. When was the last time I thanked God for my truck? Or for the lights in our home? Or for the beauty and wonder of lightning bugs?

When did I thank him for the simple joys of fireworks and…ahem…monkeys?

Have I ever thanked God for fun things like toys?

Or suckers?

I’ve got a lot of growing up to do. Never thought I’d learn that lesson from my 2 year old.

Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” – Luke 18:17

 

If you want accountability in your life, you’ve got to take responsibility.

image by Cassandra Security

Nobody will do that for you.  Others can pour into you, teach you, model for you, and share resources with you.  But if you want accountability, you’ve got to take that responsibility on yourself.  I’ve asked people to help me with certain aspects of my spiritual life.  Sometimes it’s “worked.”  Many times, it hasn’t.  But I’ve learned some principles along the way that have helped ensure success.

8 principles in seeking spiritual accountability

1. Ask for it.

If you don’t ask, nobody will respond.  You need these deep relationships that help you with your personal spiritual growth.

2. Help define what it needs to look like.

Don’t just assume that if you ask someone, they’ll instantly know what accountability needs to look like for you.  You have to help set the paramaters.  How often?  What will you talk about?  What questions should they ask you?

3. Be vulnerable and share your story.

Otherwise, how can someone else help?  If they don’t know who you are, where you’ve been, and the weak spots in your life, they’ll have no idea how to help you grow.

4. Take a risk.

You’ll never know if the person on the other end, that you’re asking to step into that relationship with you, is 100% trustworthy.  This is  a step of faith, not a step of pre-knowledge.

5. Remember that accountability is a two-way street.

This isn’t a cure-all solution.  You’ve got to be doing the difficult task of working on yourself and your own shortcomings.  Having someone “hold you accountable” doesn’t assure you’re accountable.  You’ve got to continue to actively pursue that relationship, and be open and honest with where you are at all along the way.

6. Give the other person the room to say, “No.”

This is a big responsibility that you’re asking someone to.  Give them the freedom to say that this is not the right season for them.  Forced accountability rarely works.  Both parties have to be willing to step in and do the hard work.

7. You have to continue to drive the relationship.

Don’t expect that you can ask once, share your story, and the other person will then magically follow up with you exactly when you need it.  You’re the one asking for accountability.  You need to be the one driving this relationship.

8. Ask for grace.

Since accountability isn’t a cure-all, there’s a good chance you’ll mess up again.  In a big way.  And this is where many “accountability partners” fall apart.  If you’ve messed up, you think, “I can’t possibly be honest about this with him now.”  And he’ll think, “I guess I’ve failed at holding him accountable.”  What needs to happen is what happened in the beginning: grace.  Set out from the beginning this idea that if failure happens, grace is the knee-jerk response.

You need someone to spur you on. (Hebrews 10:24) You’re too weak on your own to fight sin, insecurities, and the battles that rage against you doing what God’s calling you to do.  You need someone who’s got your back.  You need someone who is going to encourage you on the good days and the bad.  You need a warrior who won’t give up on you, who knows where you’re headed, and is willing to walk through the dark and the light to help you get there.

So encourage each other and build each other up – 1 Thessalonians 5:11

Do you have someone who’s intentionally encouraging you and helping hold you accountable?

Have you seen this kind of relationship misused?  Where one (or both) parties expected too much?

 

If you’re in the business of leading people, you must also be in the business of building relationships.

If you’re not, you can forget about having any significant level of influence.

Yesterday, I had a cup of coffee from a Chemex.  You know how long it took between the time I ordered it and the time I took my first sip?

Nearly 12 minutes.

Was I frustrated?

Not a bit.

It was a perfect cup of coffee.  Perfect.  It was clean, smooth, and a bit chocolatey.  Its roasty-ness wasn’t overwhelming, but its flavors deep and rich.

With the Chemex, you don’t just hit a button and watch the magic happen.  You have to stand beside it the whole time it’s brewing, continuing to add more water at just the right time.  Then wait for the percolation to happen.  Then add more water (with a very specific type of kettle) to the areas that are dry, starting with the center and moving out towards the edge.  Until finally, after all of the water has percolated through and the brewing process is complete, you get a decanter full of perfection.  The cup of coffee that comes from the Chemex is truly a work of art.

And relationships are no different.

We’d like to think that relationships are microwavable.  Quick, easy, and cheap.  But they’re far from it.

Truths about Significant Relationships

Relationships take time, effort, and expense.

They take constant care and attention.  Don’t walk away, or you’ll miss that key opportunity, that key moment that the next step forward is contingent upon.

Each relationship is different.

Building relationships is not a one-size-fits-all model.  Just as each Chemex cup takes a slightly different amount of time to brew, depending on the grind of the coffee, the speed at which you pour the water, and the temperature of the water, so each relationship takes a different amount of effort, time, and care.

You can’t have significant relationships with a vast number of people.

There’s just too much expense involved.  It’s not possible to give of yourself enough to have deep, significant relationships with significant numbers of people.

Relational investments take cultivation to grow.

Don’t expect to hit a button, wave your magic wand, and voila!  Cultivating important relationships is hard work.  You’ll have to let other things slide.  Other commitments, responsibilities, emails, phone calls, and things less important.

It is worth the wait.

If you’ll give a relationship the time and effort it needs, you’ll be surprised the mutual benefits that will follow.

If you lose sight of the end goal, you’ll get frustrated.

You’ll get burned, feel like it’s too big an investment, and feel the tension to just move on.  Like this is a hopeless cause that’s benefiting nobody.  Offering grace, mercy, love, and hope isn’t something you do because you are looking for immediate results.

“Love is patient…Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.” (1 Corinthians 13:4, 7)

 

Doing something is much more important than doing nothing. *

I just don’t want to be the new guy that comes in with all kinds of ideas and shakes things up right off the bat.

Be that guy!

If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?  In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. – James 2:16-17

 

My son is a running, jumping ball of courage right now.

• He rides his 4-wheeler down our front steps.
• He jumped down 3 stairs the other day…measuring at least his height.  He hit the floor, tumbled a little, and kept on running and laughing.
• Yesterday, he rode down our driveway (a fairly steep hill) as fast as he could on his little plastic truck…which was definitely not intended to be ridden as fast or as hard as he was riding it.
• He’s not afraid (usually) of talking with a complete stranger.
• He jumped off of his bed.  It’s taller than he is.

He just has this courageous spirit in him.  And I fight my hardest to not discipline that out of him.

Because seeing my son do courageous things thrills my heart, and I know it’s a expression of his God-given spirit of adventure.  And it would be easy for me to discipline that out of him in the name of safety and order.  I could demand that he not run amuck, that he play it safe, that he walk (err…jump) a more careful path.

But I am convinced that that’s not best for him in the long run.  That’s simply what’s good for me and my sanity in the short-run.

I want to encourage my son to continue to take risks.  Stand up to challenges.  Do things nobody else is doing.  Blaze his own path.  Follow his dream.  And live out the calling God’s placed on his life.  I want to teach my son to live dangerously. It’s much easier to rein that courage in, and point it towards Christ, than to re-program a man to live dangerously. I want to encourage him to be courageous now, and reward those small feats.

Have you ever been encouraged to live dangerously?

Disagree with the idea that boys (and men) living dangerously is a good thing?  Feel free to push back!  Click HERE to jump in the comments!

 

This is a guest post by Greg Bowman (on Twitter & Facebook) lives in Elgin, Illinois, where he is on staff with West Ridge Community Church as the Pastor of Spiritual Formation. He is co-author of Coaching Life-Changing Small Group Leaders and co-founder of the Communitas Network.  This is a series of posts where small group experts share how group life has impacted them personally.  The entire series can be found HERE.

For more than 30 years I’ve been a fan, student, proponent, leader and practitioner of group life. Dozens of significant mile markers stand out in my journey, but none more than the first time I felt genuine love and the invitation to be vulnerable and open in community.

I was the group’s pastor, and our group life ministry was in its infancy. We were in the honeymoon phase where everything was wonderful. We couldn’t even spell the word conflict in our groups.

In the church a series of events had led to the dismissal of a much loved staff member. The rumor mill was working overtime and people were hurting. An emergency leadership meeting forced a hard call–I needed to miss our life group on Monday night in order to attend.

Unfortunately, yet predictably, the church-wide pain spilled into the group that night. The lesson topic for the night was set aside and the group spent the evening questioning the wisdom of the church’s. At least that was my take on what happened when my wife filled me in later.

I spent the following week preparing to rescue the group from the conflict at the next meeting. I had it a great discussion scripted out. But it didn’t quite go as I planned.

After the usual coffee and snacks we gathered in the living room. I opened brilliantly. “So I am aware of the discussion last week, and I’m glad for the openness and honesty we feel as a group. I’m just wondering how is everyone doing this week?” There. It’s out in the open.

What happened next is what blew me away. From across the room one of the group members looked me in the eye and said, “We’ve all been in conversation with each other this week, Greg. We’re all fine. We support the leadership and we understand the decision. But knowing what you have been through, our question is, how are you?”

I was completely caught off guard. It was a level of maturity and care beyond what I was expecting from the group. Instantly I broke. To be honest, in the three months of conflict I had been through no one had cared enough to ask me that question. And so we processed my pain as a group. And then they put me in the center, laid hands on me and prayed.

That moment marked me. I realized that I could no longer simply teach community, or lead community in the local church. From a leadership perspective that’s inauthentic. From a personal perspective it’s not how I want to do the rest of my life. I want and need to do my life connected deeply to people who are authentic with their struggles and successes and who are open to share life in the context of community.

What experiences have marked you deeply in community? Helped form your core values?

 

I remember the day my son started walking.

He had been pulling up and cruising for a few weeks prior, so we knew he was just about ready to start letting go and walking on his own.  My wife and I were sitting across from each other in the middle of the living room floor, and I stood Rex up in between us.  He could barely get his balance.  In fact, he was so wobbly he fell down before he even got started.  So I stood him back up.

Then it happened.

He took a small step, then started to fall forward.  Just before he reached the point of no return (where he would fall flat on his face), he stuck his other foot out in front of himself.  His momentum carried him forward, and he forgot to put his other foot out in front, so he fell face first into my wife, who, along with me, clapped and cheered for our son.  He had started to walk!

So we stood him up again, and he tried once more.  Then he fell.  And smiled.

So we stood him up again, and he tried once more.  Then he fell.  And smiled.

So we stood him up again, and he tried once more.  Then he fell.  And smiled.

Then he got tired, so we quit for the day.

Notice this: he wasn’t so hard on himself that he wouldn’t try again.

Part of the hindrance to our spiritual growth is that we’re too hard on ourselves.  We beat ourselves up over and over again, when we’ve got a Father who, while we’re still a long way off, is filled with compassion for us, and is running towards us so He can throw His arms around us and kiss us. (Luke 15:20-21)

We, like the Prodigal Son, still beat ourselves up.  We respond, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” (Luke 15:20)

To which our Father says, “Let’s celebrate!” (Luke 15:23)

I’m not saying that we should act like we’re perfect, and can do nothing wrong.  But I am saying that we should not be so paralyzed in our sin that we don’t take another step forwards, towards our Father who’s running our way.  We could live in the reality that we’re sinners who are “no longer worthy to be called your son.”  But wallowing in our guilt and shame doesn’t help us move towards God.

Maybe we should start reminding ourselves that our Father is cranking up the music, getting His dancing on, and grilling up a feast for us.  Because He loves us that much.

Do you ever find that you’re too hard on yourself?

Is it time to give yourself a break, and celebrate even a small step in the right direction?

Do you know someone who needs to be reminded of this truth?

 

Running, for me, is an epic battle, both emotionally and physically, every time.

Here’s how a typical run goes:

1. I’m pumped to run.
2. .5 mile in, I hate it.
3. 1 mile in, I feel like I might be able to do this.
4. 1.5 miles in, I hate it.
5. 2 miles in, I start to hit my stride.
6. 2.5 miles in, I start to hit the wall.
7. 3 miles in, I really start cruising.
8. 3.5 miles in, I feel like I might die.
9. 4 miles in, I die.
10. 4.5 miles in, still dead.
11. Last .5 mile, I get a little more energy.
12. I’m thrilled to be finished, and can’t wait to do it again.

Am I the only one that has these ups and downs…all in the same run?

See, if I’d quit any along the way, I would’ve kicked myself, because I wouldn’t have experienced that sweet taste of completion.  Because there’s something awesome to be had at the end…the feeling that I did it, I completed what I set out to do, I’ve gotten a good workout in, and I feel tired and energized all at the same time.

We have the tendency, when things get tough, to tucker out.  Give in.  When a relationship is emotionally draining, we’ll give up on it…rather than pushing on through.  When a project reaches that it’s-not-cool-anymore stage, it’s easier to quit than persevere.  When life gets tough, and doing what God’s called you to do seems more than you can bear, it’s much easier to say, “God’s just closing that door” than to say, “God’s called me to it even though it’s unbearably difficult.”

It’s time to finish strong.

What project do you need to give a bit of endurance to?

What idea to you need to keep pressing in on?

What relationship do you need to pursue?

What “closed door” do you need to knock down?

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.  Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.  No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize. -1 Corinthians 9:24-27

 

(Rex on his 4-wheeler, 2-20-2011)

On Sunday, my son ran up and down the halls of our church building (a high school, in fact) yelling, “Pee pee!!  Pee pee!!”

Obviously, we’re in the middle (well, that’s probably a stretch.  We’re probably closer to the beginning of this stage) of potty training.

I could’ve gotten frustrated.  Embarrassed.  Angry.  Or indifferent.  But I was none of that.

I chose to laugh.  Why?

Because it’s funny!  My 2 year old son is telling the whole world that he just peed in the toilet, not his pants.

Was it embarrassing?  Yep.

Was it frustrating, especially because he also peed in his diaper?  Yep.

But in that moment, I chose not to focus on the growth that still needed to happen.  I chose to celebrate with my son.

And we’d do well to remind ourselves that our Father rejoices over even a small step of faith.  Good fathers don’t punish their children when they pee in their diaper, even though they’re learning not to.  I don’t scold my son, even though I’ve told him countless times that he’s supposed to pee in the toilet.

Because I have the future in mind. I know that, at some point, the battle with this will be over.  We’ll work through this.  This is just a step in his journey towards maturity.  He’ll mature out of this, and in the meantime, I’m going to celebrate small steps in the right direction.

And I can’t help but think that God has the future in mind with us, too.  He has the bigger picture of our growth and maturity in mind at all times.  And yes, at times, we need discipline.  But He celebrates small steps in the right direction because He can see what we cannot.  And while we’re sitting in our own guilt and shame, God’s seeing the future, and is ready to offer us grace if we’ll just step towards Him.

But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. (Luke 15:32)

Do you need to remind yourself that a step in the right direction is worth celebrating?

Do you need to remind someone else of that?

 

George Washington was a courageous man.

I knew this to be true…you can’t go through the United States public school system without studying about our country’s first President.  But I’ve recently been reminded of his heroism while reading 1776 by George McCullough.

In September of 1775, Boston was under siege by British troops.  Washington was the commander of the American military forces (which were a mishmash of untrained and largely unorganized farmers and other Yankees), and he was ready to make a bold move to recapture Boston, ending the siege.  However, there were two problems.

1. The British forces were powerful and abundant.

2. An attack on Boston, to remove the siege, could mean the destruction of the city.

But Washington wasn’t one to sit around and wait for something to happen.  So he began petitioning Congress to move troops, and begin attacking the British at Boston, because he knew how strategic and valuable the city would continue to be for the future success of the Revolutionary War.

In a letter to the governor of Rhode Island, Washington said this:

No danger is to be considered when put in competition with the magnitude of the cause.

Washington was facing lots of dangers.  Loss of significant lives.  Loss of his power and authority.  Loss of his reputation.  Loss of the city of Boston.  Loss of supplies.  Loss of time.  Loss of effort.  Loss of the colonies to the British.  But he was willing to not consider those dangers when he compared them to the magnitude of the cause…winning independence.

We could learn something from this, even today.  Because far too often, when we count the cost, we show by our actions that we believe the task is too dangerous for us.  We show fear when we don’t

• Share our faith
• Press in to know our own heart
• Have a tough conversation with a friend
• Take on that new project
• Stop and build a relationship with someone new
• Press in to know the heart of our children
• Give financially until it hurts
• Serve expecting nothing back
• Do what God’s clearly calling us to do
• Step out of our comfort zone

When we put the above in competition with the magnitude of the cause…they pale in comparison.  They are still dangerous…highly dangerous.  You could get burned, misunderstood, shamed, abandoned, discouraged, and broke.  But, like Washington said, these dangers aren’t to be considered when we compare them with the magnitude of the cause.  What is the cause that has such magnitude?

• The health of our family.
• The health of our heart. (living a life worthy of our call, Ephesians 4:1-2)
• Serving our King faithfully.

There’s nothing else greater.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. – 1 Timothy 1:7

Have you ever felt yourself crippled by fear?

What was it that got you going again?