New Book from Max Lucado Designed to Mobilize

The email from Thomas Nelson's Book Sneeze review program piqued my interest. You know, if [X] sneezes, [Y] catches a cold - if I give this book a positive review, you want to buy it. That's the idea behind Book Sneeze. It might mean more were I less voracious. (Hey, free book! Can I have it?) They give away copies with the proviso that each recipient not only posts a review on their own site, but also on a commercial bookstore site - and in this case they asked us to all publish on the same day. That explains why you'll see more than 100 reviews on Amazon; likely more by the time you read my review. It's quite a campaign. I wish more publishers who put out mission books made a similar investment in getting the word out. We'd see them in the hands of more people if we did.

This one caught my eye for a reason. It was made to mobilize Christians to seek God and make themselves available to serve in the world.

Outlive Your Life is part of a multi-faceted campaign and line of products designed to stir ordinary Christians to believe that how they live their lives makes a difference - that, like the man in the fable that serves as a preface, they can "live on" through their good deeds and what they invest in changing the world for those who come after.

In his usual and engaging way, Max Lucado weaves his tapestry by blending the statistics and opportunities with personal anecdotes and retelling stories from the scriptures - in this case, the early chapters of the book of Acts. If that ragtag band of apostles could turn the world upside down and send our ripples still strongly felt today, maybe we can too.

Max doesn't want to oversimplify the challenges, but claims we have all the resources we need. He invites everyday people to share good news, fight global poverty, stand up against discrimination and injustice, offer hospitality and compassion, work together, refuse to show off, cross barriers and persevere through obstacles. Each of the 16 short chapters starts with a well-chosen quotation from the scriptures and closes with a prayer of response. The book concludes with questions for discussion and ideas for action; probably all you would need to lead a small group through the book if you wanted to - not that it's hard to digest. There's also, as I mentioned, a whole line of related stuff you can get if you think it will help.

The author is also donating the royalties from all this to World Vision and like-minded faith-based compassion ministries.

You might not want to pay full price for a hardback I read in 90 minutes. I could certainly recommend some meatier, weightier tomes if you want them. If you're very intellectual, it might hurt your street cred to be seen reading the populist Max Lucado. But he writes for everyone, writes very well, and he cites his sources. The world - my world - is full of media designed with that same desire to mobilize but not executed with the commitment to balance, accuracy, and beauty that comes from working with a professional publishing house.

I'd like to see mobilizers pick this one up. It's a book you can give to anyone to help them understand the world better and know that their lives can make a difference.

A Source of Meaningless Affirmation

I had a coworker who must have heard that women like it if men notice their clothes. At seemingly random intervals he would ask, "Is that a new outfit?" Rarely could I answer his affirmation in the affirmative, alas. Not much of a fashionista, I guess. But he's a good man and I believe he meant well. I tried to accept his words in the spirit in which they were offered!

I've thought of those days when periodically scanning the spam filter of the Wordpress site we use for Missions Catalyst. Nearly all the comments that make it into that folder are designed to please. While some of the originating addresses suggest sites I would not want to put before my eyes, the comments themselves are seldom offensive and sometimes amusing.

Here's one piece of flattery to brighten your day:

Thanks for this unique fantastic piece of content; this is the kind of consideration that maintains me though out the day. I have forever already been looking close to for a web-site following I over heard about them from a close friend and was delighted when I was able to uncover it just after researching for a while. Being a passionate blogger, I’m happy to find out other folks taking effort and giving to your community. I just desired to review to display my appreciation in your submit as it is particularly encouraging, and lots of internet writers will not get the credit score they should have. I am positive I’ll be again and can send out some of my buddies.

Strangely, the source of this comment is an organization that maintains a website about treatments for Lyme disease. Apparently they're eager to get the word out. Or perhaps they have been infected with a virus that sends out such words on their behalf.

Others say things like:

Great info! I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don’t know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.

and...

Great site. A lot of useful information here. I’m sending it to some friends!

Do you suppose they have a random compliment generator - or do they say these things to all the blogs?

Labor Day Weekend - Roxborough State Park

Shared Suffering

The other day I heard a moving story on NPR. Maybe you caught it too. In it, one man spoke about his participation in a group called "The Compassionate Friends" which is composed of parents who have lost their children to death.

Yes, one of those groups "to which none of its members want to belong." But since they have not been able to avoid this excruciating situation, they find comfort and meaning in one another's company. A fellowship of shared suffering.

Most struggle with a strong sense of personal guilt. How had they failed to protect their children? Why couldn't they die in their place?

As with any catastrophic loss, the pain doesn't ever go away.

"Mitch Carmody of Minnesota, whose 9-year-old son, Kelly, died of cancer in 1987... said he felt burdened by the pressure to get over the death of his son for 10 years, until one day he looked at a photo of Kelly and fell to his knees and wept. 'Our child dies a second time,' Mitch said, 'when no one speaks their name.'"

Powerful stuff. Read or listen to the story on NPR: Now We Are Alone - Living on without Our Sons.

"I Was Born to...."

I'm part of a fairly large and boisterous small group that meets several times a month, and one of our traditions is to have a "dinner table chat prompt." Not that we'd likely fall into an awkward silence without one. But it helps us get to know each other a bit more deliberately. More importantly, it makes sure we hear from everyone.

S. offered this last week's chat prompt. These days he is enthralled with a book called Born to Run,  recommended to him by another member of our group. S. asked us how each of us would complete this sentence: "I was born to _______________."

Rather than focus on the things we have in common, the big picture stuff like "I was born to give God glory," we looked more at our areas of individual passion and unique contribution.

L. went first. "That's easy for me. I was born to teach!" "I can confirm that," said her husband, and so did another member whose daughter has L. as a teacher this year. When she's in the classroom is when L. feels most alive. We all know this about L. Go for it, L!

"I was born to learn," said B., who reads as much as I do and has an insatiable curiosity for exploring new things of all kinds.

"I was born to make things with my hands," said his wife. We were all sitting in her dining room, with a good view of quilts, cross-stitch projects, and other signs of her craftiness, not to mention much of the dinner we were enjoying.

"I was born to appreciate a good story," said another man. "Mine is like that too," said the woman across the table. "I was born to listen to and draw out people's stories. I'm always meeting new people and finding out their stories, and I love it. My husband and kids roll their eyes."

"I was born to 'father,'" said S. "I feel I'm at my best in that role."

We know each other well, so as each one shared the rest of us could nod and smile. We could say yes, I see that in you. Yet asking people to put these traits in their own words helped us understand one another better and affirm each other.

Wondering what I'd say when it was my turn, I realized that in some way I could relate to each item that had been shared. (Well, except that I'd never say I was born to be a dad!) How would I personalize these things, and what was at the core, for me? I'm a teacher, a learner, a story-lover, and listener. But would I just say "ditto" to one of these answers, or is it something else? Is "writing" what I'm born to do? I don't think so...

I think what I really feel "born" to do is to make connections. With any situation or body of information, I look for and try to express the patterns.  I love interviewing, brainstorming, strategy meetings. Any time I read or hear about something I think about how it relates to something else I've seen, heard about, or experienced. This gives me a somewhat cluttered mind, but it means I always have something to contribute. I'm always bringing up stories, ideas, or experiences and offering them to other people. I love to help people find what they need or meet the person they ought to talk to. I believe people are more alike than different; I enjoy finding common ground and helping others do the same. I like figuring out how things work and what makes people tick.

What a sad and less vibrant world this would be if we did not feel willing or welcome to use these talents and passions of ours, to do the things we love and care about the most, the things we have a hunch are the things we were "born" to do.

I just finished a novel in which the heroine's husband tells her, "Russell, this questioning of your abilities must stop. If you have something to contribute, speak up."  (Laurie King, The Language of Bees, p. 353).

My twin sister Megan - who would probably say she was born to make art - wrote about this dynamic on her blog recently, too.

Does this give you any ideas? Readers, how would you fill in the blank? "I was born to _________________."

Are you finding a way to use your talents, doing what you were born to do? If not, what's getting in the way? Do you find yourself doubting whether your contribution is of any use, or trying to please others by becoming someone other than who you were created to be?

Many things can interfere. Sometimes we don't know what we want or care about. Other times we don't have the freedom or other resources to pursue it. We can't always get what we'd want. Maybe we really need to lay it all down and do the things that go against the grain as a sacrifice and service to others. Yet, most of our core strengths can probably find some expression regardless of our situations. We can harness them in responding to the circumstances and opportunities we face.

"Somewhere in you is the you whom you were made to be. We need you to be you. We don’t need a second anybody. We need the first you."  (Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis)

Research Methods - Dusting off Unused Skills

The Russian Museum of Ethnography
has a fun collection of hats! 

One year in the mid-90s my big project was working on a book about the world's unreached people groups. There wasn't much on the Internet in those days; we used what we could find, but also went to the library and did a heck of a lot of networking.

Similarly, when we were getting ready to do an ethnographic research project we'd put great efforts into learning as much as we could about the cultures and ways of life of our host peoples. We'd round up all the books, videos, and articles we could find, and glean the best stuff to pass on to the research team members as part of their "pre-reading." Then, we'd go out and see how much of it was still true and how it had shaped who the people were today.

Doing that kind of work - and being a natural hunter-gatherer - made me the go-to person in our office for info about unreached peoples. I knew where to find stuff on the web, I had lots of stuff in my big file cabinet, and I had a pretty functional network of regional experts, networks, and strategy coordinators who were willing to help people who wanted to find out more. Some were students working on papers, maybe for a Perspectives class. Others were part of churches that had "adopted" a group about which they knew relatively little, or were planning a visit to learn and pray on-site.

These days nobody asks me. That's mostly because more and more people have learned the basic strategies they need to get this kind of information on their own. Even with our research teams I haven't had to do much digging on my own. In some cases I meant to but ran out of time. In others, someone else was handing me what I needed to know. I was discouraged from being "geeky" about it by putting much effort into digging up more; overachievers make everyone feel bad, you know. After all, the important stuff was what we would learn on the ground when we got there.

Now, expecting to do another ethnography project, I have the time and leisure to do more "pre-search" for myself. I pulled up a bunch of stuff from the Internet, know which box of my old files might hold the relevant treasures, and think I've persuaded the guy who asked me to help with the project to introduce me to some folks in-country. It's going to be fun!

Note: Yes, the next project will be in Russia, though I'd rather not share the specifics in a public post like this. Want to see more funky headgear from RME? start with this one and click through on the images to the right.

When Being a Mobilizer Means Saying Goodbye

Last weekend I traveled to another part of the state to say goodbye to some friends with whom my life has been intertwined for several years. A month from now both families are heading overseas. One will work at an orphanage in a rough and remote part of Africa. The other will pastor in the expat community of a large, cosmopolitan Asian city. Their situations couldn’t be more different. This was their last chance to be together before two of the grown children take off a few days from now to begin a language program in what will be their parents’ new home.

It was a privilege for S. and I to be with them. As I said, our lives are intertwined, and our presence made a good excuse for a party. We had dinner together and caught each other up on our news and struggles and hopes, then prayed for one another as we get ready to head our different directions. It was, what? the sixth or seventh such gathering I’ve had with various overlapping groups of international friends just this summer, not counting the one-on-ones.

Sometimes this aspect of my way of life seems so cool. I have a network of wonderful friends and colleagues all over the world! And while I may not see some of them for years at a time, many of them come through my town every time they are in the U.S. It may be easier to get together with people who just come through town occasionally. I've spent more "quality time" with J., who lives in SE Asia, than B., an equally dear friend who lives in downtown Denver. Though B. and I got together recently as well. It was great to get to know her children. I don't think I'd met the five year old!

On the other hand, with all these international friends, it can seem like just one goodbye after another. To see more and more people I care about scattered in more and more different directions can feel so fragmenting. At times my relational network seems painfully large. What is it about me that keeps giving away pieces of my heart to the people around me? Would it be any easier if I had a permanent companion or two instead of this relay-race of relationships? Or is such loss part-and-parcel of being a mission mobilizer? I don't think my tendency to keep reaching out is something I want to change about myself, but sometimes I count the cost.

Do I want to be the one going off and having adventures? Who would I go with? Going in one direction would mean not going another. Whose "tribe" would I choose to join? Staying where I am may actually be much better for being part of their lives than throwing my lot in with some group of them without the confidence that God had opened that particular door and nudged me through it. Quite possibly that day will come.

Meanwhile, I feel much more connected than some of my friends overseas who are barely keeping their heads above water. They’ve given up a lot, relationally, much more than I have. Many are living far from "home" and in places of social and emotional isolation. “One thing I know for sure,” wrote D. to the church sending them out, “is that if we didn’t sense God’s hand in all of this, we couldn’t bear to leave you just as summer turns to fall here in incredible western Colorado.”

Even with this odd pattern of making new friends all the time and sending them out, I’ve realized I’m not as lonely as I was. I think the sabbatical helped. Not only did I learn to be more comfortable being by myself, I also learned to appreciate some of my local relationships more and saw them grow stronger. What happened in 2007, when so many of the people I cared about left all at once, devastated me. Now, looking back, I realize I don’t feel so alone anymore.

That sure helps when it’s time to say goodbye. 

> See also a couple of related 2009 posts, Traveler and Reunion.