Finding a new "normal"

Give thanks, again.

I recognize that it could be viewed as a form of laziness, reposting a portion of last year’s Thanksgiving-themed blog. (Particularly since I’ve been a real slacker in my blog writing for the last half-year.) Indulge me, if you will, in allowing this one to be passed around in a few heads and hearts again. The message is no less important this year.

For the record, I am exceedingly grateful this year for the joys and milestones experienced in my life and in the lives of my immediate family members. I am grateful for many sincere, genuinely loving and lasting relationships in my life. I have some really awesome friends … and I wish we could spend more quality time together. I am grateful to God for the grace (unmerited favor) that gives me an opportunity to share the gospel (good news) of Jesus with people I may never have a chance to interact with otherwise. May you all have an abundantly joyous Thanksgiving as you seek to truly GIVE thanks.

[Bonus inclusion to make up for re-posting last year’s article: click for a video recording of “Thank You,” recorded live during worship in Butler Chapel on the lovely campus of Campbell Divinity School in 2013.]

From the 2013 blog post:

Thanksgiving Day, when I was growing up, was one of the more revered holidays. It wasn’t a religious holiday, but it was a holy day in many ways. Businesses were closed. We set aside that one day to gather with family – as extended as possible – for an afternoon and evening of feasting. Often, the party moved from one house to the next where we had an opportunity to see new, happy family faces at each stop. When I think of family gatherings, inevitably, I remember the Thanksgiving Days of my earlier years.

Now, Thanksgiving Day has been diminished to a sort of pre-game for the Superbowl of holiday shopping. It’s appalling, really, our lack of attention to the importance of acknowledging and demonstrating gratitude. Surely, we could all use a day to lay aside our cash and credit cards to assemble with friends and family, and to simply be grateful – individually and collectively – for what we have received and for the grace we have witnessed in our lives.

So, I’m making an appeal again this year – an appeal for our return to Thanksgiving. I’m making a plea for our turning away from culturally driven consumerism and turning toward God and those people with whom we are in relationship to say “thank you.” Maybe, just maybe, if we protect that one day of Thanksgiving, we can gradually learn to nurture gratitude as a way of life, instead of nurturing our insatiable desires for more of everything … that leads to satisfaction with nothing.”

I’ve noticed a few of my Facebook friends starting a daily post of thanks-giving as the holiday approaches. Even though a few folks are posting their daily journal in a public forum, I hope there are several more who have, perhaps, decided to take on the Give Thanks challenge in a more private way.

Will you be honoring Thanksgiving Day as a day to practice gratitude in your family? I hope you put as much (or more) effort into that plan as you put into planning which sales you might hit on Black Friday.

I really like the phrase “give thanks.” I like it because it emphasizes the truth that gratitude isn’t something meant to be felt and left there. It’s meant to be shared, to be given away.

Thank you for spending your time reading and thinking about gratitude with me. Now, let’s give thanks together – generously.

Opening the Door to Hope

Starting anything new has inherent hazards. Starting a new ministry has the same hazards as starting other new ventures with the added weight of operating in the realm of faith-over-feelings.

In listening to the stories that others have shared with me, both directly and indirectly, I have discerned that many of us hold a certain amount of hope after enduring painful or otherwise difficult life circumstances. For people of faith in Jesus, that hope is tied to a belief that “all things work together for good.” We take that to mean that great value and understanding can come from our experiences of suffering. Even more directly, we believe that we are transformed by the work of God the Spirit during these experiences of suffering. It is the process of transformation by the Spirit of God that brings us hope and that hope is the most important ingredient in the building of our faith.

After having one pilot session in Raleigh, NC – Opening the Door to Hope: Spotlight on Addiction – we are now looking for churches to host several more pilot sessions. During these sessions, ministers, lay leaders, members and guests will gather to discuss the concept of developing Hope Ambassadors through the training ministry of Opening the Door to Hope. These Hope Ambassadors will be at the forefront of congregational and non-traditional ministry settings, serving families that suffer under the effects of addiction, depression and other related illnesses in all various and destructive forms. (NOTE: These sessions are not meant to serve as rehab or therapy for addicts or for those who are suffering with depression. These sessions are for church leaders and family members who want to learn about these diseases and learn about ways to offer support, resources and encouragement to loved ones who suffer.) Proposed Spotlight topics include: Addiction, Depression and Grief Support.

At least, that’s the idea. That is my hope.

That is the dream that has developed over the course of 10+ years. At worst, those in attendance will garner tools to effectively activate hope in their own lives and in the lives of those in their spheres of influence. At best, Hope Ambassadors will begin to appear in congregations all over the world among people of faith in Jesus, offering the same hope and healing that Jesus offered during his earthly ministry, doing even greater things, even as He promised we would.

I know about the chaos and the stress that surrounds loved ones suffering with addiction or mental illnesses – those that have been diagnosed as well as those that have not. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love dearly and I know what it’s like to see God transform and heal someone you love dearly. I know what it’s like to be transformed from the inside-out! I, too, have hoped that my experience would bring good on a larger scale through the process of transformation.

In that context and from that perspective, I lift up the banner of hope.

If any group of people on earth should understand hope, it should be my fellow followers of Jesus. However, my experience shows that church members are generally ill-equipped to offer hope to hurting, desperate people. A lack of education, partnered with bad advice and a code of silence regarding stigmatized behaviors in the church has left many of its members in situations of prolonged suffering and marginalization.

Too many people and too many families are suffering for the church to continue on this path. This need is much broader than any denomination. In Jesus, we find all the hope any of us could ever need.

The church must be a place where hope is experienced and taught and nurtured.

And the church is not the building where we gather on Sundays to worship. The church is the people who do the gathering and the serving and the worshiping and the praying … and the hoping. Wherever those people go.

Romans 8:24 For in (or by) hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes (or awaits) for what is seen?

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

**If you are interested in the Hope Ambassador ministry project or would like to participate as a pilot group member, please leave a comment here with an email address whereby you can be contacted.

The 70% majority I never wanted to join

I can typically live my day-to-day life now without thinking about it. It happened in two different contexts over the course of ten years, but I’m nearly 25 years beyond the last of it now … Thanks to the recent media coverage of Ray Rice’s violent abuse of Janay Palmer caught on tape in a casino elevator, and all the commentary that followed, I have been clearly reminded.

Up to 7 out of 10 women around the world experience some form of physical or sexual abuse at some point in a lifetime according to the UN’s UNiTE campaign website. For 1 out of 4, it happens during pregnancy.

What’s strange is that, even though I am within that 70% of women, it isn’t something I know to be true about any of the women in my various circles of friends. That doesn’t make me question the statistic, though.

Women don’t talk about their experiences of abuse for lots of reasons. We can’t figure out why it happens – what makes him snap – and we conclude that he is right about it being our fault. Maybe I am too mouthy and I should have just kept quiet. Maybe I was wrong to question him that way about his drinking…

Maybe I …

After all, he’s such a great guy most of the time. No one would ever believe me if I told the truth about what really happens.

There is such an insane degree of inner conflict that goes along with abuse that it almost always requires intervention from someone outside the cycle in order to convince a victim to leave or an abuser to seek rehabilitation. Add to that the social barriers of the abuser being a powerful or well-loved leader in religious, business or political circles and you’re looking at a situation that is nearly impenetrable.

The most maddening realization is that the heart of the reason we as women don’t talk about violence against us is because we have been conditioned to believe it’s ok. We don’t really see abuse against women as a crime. We see it more as … boys being boys. Excessive behavior. When we buy the idea that abuse happens because we make a man angry or we shouldn’t have worn a certain shirt or pair of pants, we buy it because it restores a sense of power that is lost to us in the abuse. It’s easier to believe that I had the power to make that happen than it is to believe that I had no power to either cause it or to stop it. Even though it’s a ridiculous preference, it seems to be the one we often choose by default. At least, until we can conjure the power to walk away.

And, since the power to walk away can require Herculean effort all by itself and gives us the greater relief that we seek, we may never find the power or support from the police or the legal system to take the next step and file criminal charges against our abuser(s.) In stopping short here, we as women actually encourage the belief that abuse against us is not criminal behavior. Most of the time, however, this is another form of victimization, requiring an outside advocate in order to bring abuse to full closure.

Hundreds of millions of women around the world live in countries where domestic violence is not considered a crime. This isn’t one of those countries, but it remains an issue as long as women are discouraged and unsupported when it comes to bringing an abuser to justice.

For local victims and supporters, visit www.interactofwake.org, or call 919-828-7501.
24 HOUR CRISIS LINES
Domestic Violence 919-828-7740 | 866-291-0855 toll-free
Sexual Assault 919-828-3005 | 866-291-0853 toll-free
Solace Center 919-828-3067 | 866-291-0854 toll-free

Single mom speaks

I can’t speak for all single parents. There are some things, though, that I believe a majority of adults just don’t get when it comes to other adults who are raising children alone, and I believe I can share some things on behalf of all single parents – single moms and single dads – that will benefit us all.

1. If you want to talk with me, meet with me, or do something “fun” with me alone, then it pretty much needs to happen while my child is in school or daycare.

At the end of my work day, I am entering another phase of the day that in no way resembles free time. Everything that my child(ren) requires in the way of food, supplies, training and nurturing has to come from me, and all of that unfolds as soon as we connect after school and work.

2. If whatever you’re inviting me to come do is not a kid-friendly event, please don’t expect me to attend.

Dinner for two? Girls night out? It’s not that I don’t want to go. On the contrary, I’d LOVE to go! But, it isn’t as easy as that. If I don’t have a suitable sitter living with me in my house, then that means I have to take my child somewhere (typically miles out of the way if it’s a free/family situation) or else find someone old enough to drive to my house who is also willing to babysit for a menial wage. Beyond the logistics of this awesome night out, it’s going to cost me well above the amount most attendees will pay for food and drink. As fun as it might be, it may not be worth it in the big picture.

3. I crave adult conversation and companionship. I just can’t go to where you are most of the time.

All parents are thrust into a wonderfully frustrating and exhausting child-centric world the moment our sweet and needy mini-me (or mini-him) arrives on the planet. It is overwhelming in the best circumstances, but in a single-parent scenario, it can be crippling. We are constantly weighing our child’s needs – singularly dependent upon us – against our own. Factors will always include safety and finances. And sacrifice becomes our way of life.

4. Want to do a favor for a single-parent family? Offer to take the child to an event (ballgame, play, movie) with your family.

What we accomplish in the lives of our children is simultaneously our greatest achievement and our biggest regret. Often limited in funds and energy, we do our best but cannot ever carry out the seemingly small things that come more easily in two-parent families where both parents are engaged in child-rearing. Including my child in experiences I can’t provide due to my limitations is a blessing to everyone involved. Having raised children since 1989 and alone for all but eight of the 25 years in total, I can say that it has definitely been a rare occasion that someone would offer to do something like this with one of my children. But, when it did happen, it was a rare and wonderful gift.

5. Of all places, church should be a warm and welcoming place for single-parent families, but that isn’t always the case.

Having served as staff in churches for years, I can say that there are congregations who get it and there are congregations who just don’t. If your church isn’t sensitive to single-parent families, then your church probably isn’t sensitive to needs of families and children in general. Churches can do great harm to parents and children of single-parent households when they fail to honor, affirm and support them in their efforts toward mental, physical and spiritual formation of children. Not all children have two parents at home and God blesses single-parent families, too. (What most people describe as “traditional family” is really only about 200 years old – a product of industrialization. Get over yourself.)

Single parenting is old news, really. It’s so prevalent now, but that doesn’t mean it is a “good” thing. It’s a really difficult thing. Whether it was a choice or a consequence, it remains a fact. Be a good friend, be a good neighbor, be a good listener. A bit of care and support can go a very long way.

Changing gears

I drove a bus when I was 16 years old. That’s right – a school bus.

Mind you, I wasn’t the bus driver who picked kids up along a 10-mile route every morning and drove them home every afternoon. I was the kid who drove the French class over to the high school in the next county because our school no longer had a foreign language teacher. (And yes, we took French, not Spanish … I have no idea.)

Anyway, that’s one of several proofs that I learned very early to do things that most kids these days don’t have a chance to learn. I knew how to change gears manually right away as a new driver. And, by the way, if you’ve never been a gear-changer, you don’t know what you’re missing! (This really is off-topic, but I also learned how to parallel park – and do it well. My dad installed two poles in our yard and I practiced parallel parking between them with his Ford F-150. Like a champ. And I can still whip it in there in one smooth move.)

There’s a certain art to changing gears manually. You have to learn to catch all the cues your car gives that it’s time to change – the readings, the sounds, the feel … Then there’s the coordination of your hand and foot. Your right hand and both feet, really. In those moments, you are in sync with your machine. Automatic gears bypass all that visceral connection. Shame, isn’t it?

(Another off-topic comment: the only time I drove a manual car and wished desperately for an automatic was when, at the tender age of 21, I spent three weeks in England with my cousin during which time we rented a car for a Saturday night outing in London. Shifting with my left hand and operating both feet and a steering wheel from what I knew as the passenger side was a real challenge. I managed it, but wow …)

Sometimes, I think having learned to pick up sensory clues about the right time to change gears in driving may help us know how to tune in to the cues for timing changes in life. [Disclaimer: this has not always been evident. I have demonstrated rotten timing in my life. Burned out a few proverbial clutches, if you know what I mean.] But, if we really tune in, I think we can see, hear, and feel the signs that it’s time.

Three signs that you are changing gears at the wrong time:
1. You move ahead before finishing what you started
You immediately notice that the vehicle is not moving forward and may actually shut down. This means you may have thrown things into high gear way too soon. Go back into the lower gear and regroup. Spend some more time at each level. Be more thorough and less anxious.

2. You aren’t living up to your potential
Your engine is screaming and other drivers are shaking their heads as they drive past you. Please, go into the next gear. There are at least five of them, you know. You’re really missing out if you never open up past third gear. You don’t necessarily have to move fast to get somewhere. But don’t put yourself in a position to always be passed, either.

3. You sabotage the process
Hear that terrible sound of stripping gears? That’s you, forgetting to push in the clutch while you change gears. The clutch protects your transmission while the gears are changing – if you engage it. If you choose to change gears without it, then you’ll ruin your transmission. That means you won’t be able to move. Think of prayer as your clutch during those times when you sense it’s time to change gears.

Come on, let’s go for a ride! Bon voyage!

One on the right and the other on the left

I’m not entirely sure why, but I haven’t been thinking or acting like myself lately.

I could list a few things that have happened to make me less happy about my circumstances, but I generally am a plow-through-it type of girl. I recognize the value in change as well as the difficulty of transitioning. I get it. I had lunch with a friend who is a few years older so that I could explain to her what’s going on with me and we could bounce around possibilities together of why I feel so out of sorts.

Whether it’s raging hormones or exhaustion or general discontentment, I don’t know. I just know I feel caged and irritable.

And this is how I spent Lent this year. Totally not what I wanted to happen. I love the spiritual disciplines and theological reflection. I adore spending intimate time with God and pouring out my heart and touching the hope I find in God’s presence. But I have spent more time searching for a way out of my predicament than I have in seeking God.

As I have tried to enjoy a day off from my full-time job today preparing for tonight’s worship and attempting again to be intentional in my devotions, I can’t shake my feelings of irritation.

I have prayerfully projected images of my feelings into things like being in prison. In those prayers, my thoughts flow like movies. I sit in a cell, but Jesus reminds me that, long ago, the door was unlocked. I am free. But I haven’t left yet, because

I’m afraid.

I sit in this spot as if I’m locked up because, at least here things are predictable. I know what’s coming in, what has to go out, and when all those things have to happen.

Perhaps you know how this feels. Perhaps you’re in the next cell.

Today, my reading has been, predictably, Luke’s story of the crucifixion of Christ. In chapter 23, Luke relays the story of Jesus going to Calvary along with two criminals who were sentenced to be hung with him – one on the right and the other on the left. For those who know the story, we know one as the blaspheming criminal and the other as the penitent one.

As they were hanging there – the three of them – and soldiers and onlookers hurled insults and mocked Jesus, one of Jesus’ neighbors on the crosses yelled over to him, “If you are the Christ, save yourself, and us!”

And, sitting here in my little cell, a prisoner of another sort, I understand why he said that. Here we are, right beside Jesus Christ. He has proved himself. Everybody knows what Jesus can do. Why are we all still hanging here in this predicament? Why aren’t you saving yourself? If you refuse to save yourself, then does that mean you won’t do anything to save me either? The guy was miserable and there was Jesus, the one who could turn things around, right beside him.

When we are suffering, or otherwise struggling with something, we feel desperate for a Savior. We have our own pictures of what that salvation should look like. As it turns out, our ideas of salvation pale in comparison to the gospel of Jesus Christ. We want our Savior to get off the cross and come take us down off ours, too.

We don’t want our Savior to die right beside us.

In our human experience, death is the end. At least, it is the end of life as we know it. But our Savior knows better. Jesus knew the glory that was set before him, even while he endured suffering. He knew. Even when he was dying. It wasn’t too late. His death didn’t mark the end of living. It was the end of dying.

“Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom,” said the other criminal after he reprimanded the guy who just wanted to get off that blasted cross.

Yes, Lord. Remember me.

Mini-blog: how loving the “other” brings unity

I live in a very small, culturally diverse neighborhood. This has become true over the past 15 years. My recent frustration with late-evening yard parties blaring music that makes me question where I am, led me to some wrestling with the idea of diversity and its value in a Christian context.

Growing up back in my rural community, there was no real diversity. Most folks were some measure of kin. Even in our strictly black-or-white communities scattered across the county, many of us were kin. We went to the same schools, we all went to church regularly (many varieties, but 99% Christian churches), we knew the same people and repeated the same stories. We were, it would seem, the opposite of a culturally diverse community.

Coming from such homogeneity, one might be easily disturbed when diversity becomes one’s neighbor. Or shares a pew at church.

Speaking as someone who came from a homogeneous (but not necessarily unified) background, I can understand the difficulty in transitioning into a diverse landscape. Speaking as a girl who challenged homogeneity and created her own brand of diversity, I can also see the value of that transition.

The journey toward diversity is ideally a journey that culminates in true unity and not diversity for diversity’s sake.

Perhaps a homogeneous neighborhood or faith community gives a false sense of unity. Perhaps, until your surroundings become diverse, you aren’t challenged to find true unity with your neighbors. Or the person on the other side of the sanctuary. Perhaps true unity exists underneath a diverse exterior.

True unity requires that we give up our pride in “self” and bear up the dignity of the “other” with the same love we so easily give to those who merely remind us of ourselves.

Matthew 5:46-48 (NET)
46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Even the tax collectors do the same, don’t they? 47 And if you only greet your brothers, what more do you do? Even the Gentiles do the same, don’t they? 48 So then, be perfect, [brought to its end; finished; mature] as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Give It Up

It’s that time of year again – time to figure out what to give up for Lent. Of course, not everybody does that, but if you live and work around Christians of any variety, you’ll surely run across someone who is abstaining from something you might generally know him or her to enjoy.

If you ever find yourself interested but in need of help figuring out how to begin the practice of sacrificing something for Lent, then your answers are as close as your computer. Last year as the season of Lent approached, a CBS affiliate in Charlotte, NC published a list of the top ten most popular things Americans give up for Lent. You’ll probably find no surprises there. The list might be helpful or interesting to some. However, the list of things people typically give up doesn’t give good clues about why Christians make these intentional sacrifices for the 40 days before Easter.

And isn’t it more important to know why?

Growing up in rural North Carolina in what I would call a blended Baptist church – mostly Southern Baptist believers with a sprinkling of “charismatics” withholding tongues in public worship – we never talked about or practiced any form of Lenten sacrifice. We didn’t even acknowledge the season of Lent or the liturgical calendar outside of lighting Advent candles during the four Sundays before Christmas. As far as I was led to believe, Catholics worshiped Mary and weren’t even real Christians, so why on earth would we feign interest in following any Catholic practices?

After studying the history of the Church (before and after the Reformation), I find myself in a far more ecumenical place. And I’m so grateful for my fuller understanding of the Christian faith and tradition.

The tradition of fasting in the season of Lent started as early Christians prepared for their baptism, which occurred on Easter Sunday. During those days – not always 40, but always some number – before Easter, new believers fasted and prayed. Other believers joined them as a sign of unity in the Body of Christ. The practice is not mandated in Scripture, however, the tradition is strong and earliest Christian writers documented it. Though details of the practice have evolved across eras and lands and subsets of Christianity, the focus has remained: Lent is a season of prayer, confession, and remembering (or getting ready for) one’s baptism in preparation for the celebration of Easter – a time to acknowledge the mystery and the power of the death and resurrection of Christ and how it impacts our lives.

A large majority of Christians will give up things like Facebook, or soda, or chocolate this Lenten season. And you will likely hear or read some criticism of those supposedly shallow sacrifices. Lent isn’t meant to be a 40-day diet plan. However, if you find yourself addicted to certain foods or substances and feel that this is a great transition period in your faith journey toward a greater consciousness in making healthy, wholesome choices in your physical life as an outward manifestation of increased spiritual devotion, then I say go for it.

I began my Lenten fasting several years ago by giving up certain foods I became convinced were bad for my physical body. And, after Lent was over, it was clear that I had given up those things for life. Even though it involved giving up physical things, I count the practice as spiritual because my purpose was entirely toward being made whole in the fullest sense of the word – mind, body, and spirit – and because I believe God called me into it. It was and is an experience of participating with the universal Christian community and with God Almighty. In other words, the practice of fasting is transformative.

Wherever you find yourself in terms of spiritual growth, give yourself an opportunity to experience transformation through spiritual disciplines such as fasting.

Is something still holding you back? Give it up.

The helping profession: giving and receiving

As a woman who daily serves others in business and in ministry, and who has for many years, I know a lot of people whose mission it is to help others.

It is no secret that a large majority of those drawn to help others have experienced significant brokenness in his or her own life. (If that was a secret, “SPOILER ALERT!”) While our stories of calling into ministry or work as a helping professional are many and varied, it seems to me that, for the most part, the decision to help others helps us make sense of our own pain and brokenness.

Counseling classes in graduate school were like therapy, and by design. Class time and homework assignments were our opportunity to really work through some significant areas of damage and scarring in order to find growth and healing. Key memories – things that stand out from your early years, even if they seem ordinary and insignificant – were always interesting starting points for me to dig through my unique brand of screwiness.

I remember clearly my dad scolding me as a ‘tween when he learned I had gone to school without a coat, saying, “You have to take care of yourself!” with an emphasis on the “have to.”

As a young adult, I learned how true that statement can be. Even into my later adulthood, I reluctantly admitted that I am the only person who can or will take care of me. Please don’t misunderstand that statement: I love and am loved by many people, but, in my adult life, I have not been the recipient of much ordinary care-giving. I qualify that with “ordinary,” because I have been well cared-for and cared-about in many extraordinary circumstances. But certain key people I thought would (or should) take care of me have failed me in devastating ways. In spiritual terms, I have felt loved and cared for by God, manifested in both ordinary and supernatural ways. Somehow, though, I developed an “I don’t need you” persona in my everyday, natural life. I’m sure it developed as a defense mechanism, but it doesn’t serve me very well.

Photo from www.lorinbeller.com — Photo from http://www.lorinbeller.com

As someone who has pledged to care for and serve others, I must consistently address my embedded sense of having to take care of myself, which is sister to a sense of distrust. I have years and years of independence and single parenting behind me that scream louder than any of my subtle hints at needing anything from any other human. That loud, screaming, self-sufficient ego prevents me from the vulnerability needed to become a community insider. It doesn’t prevent me from leading in certain contexts, but it keeps me on the margins of intimacy within my community if I am not diligent to make myself vulnerable – not just to God, but to at least a few people in my circle.

Now, believe me, I’m not alone in this little secret habit of giving without receiving. In ministerial or helping profession leadership positions, it is not advisable to make yourself entirely vulnerable in a very broad sense to the community in which you serve, but it is highly encouraged to find an inner circle wherein you can “break it all down” and allow someone to care for you and help with your emotional and practical needs.

Speaking on behalf of my fellow helping professionals and ministers, I want to encourage you to show an extra bit of care this week to those people in your community assigned or ordained to take on any role of service. They may never ask for it in an entire lifetime, but when received, it is of enormous value and encouragement! Three cheers, hugs, (and a dozen roses?) for the helpers!

What we see vs. what is true

new-way-of-seeing-things I love Malcolm Gladwell. You might even call it a celebrity crush. One of my dearest friends turned me on to him a couple of years ago when he was a guest speaker at High Point University. In one listening session, I was hooked. After the broadcast of his interview with the University President, I purchased my first audio book of one of his many bestsellers, “Blink.”

[I’m sure avid readers have mixed feelings about audio books, but I’m a fan for this reason: you can experience a book narrated in the author’s own voice and with his or her own inflections and emphases.]

Since then, I’ve continued to read whatever I can that Gladwell has written. I was excited most recently to listen to his TED talk that came up via podcast as he promotes his new book, David and Goliath. He is a brilliant writer, but the thing I love the most is that he thinks and pursues questions from the perspective of a sociologist and a journalist.

I could go on and on about why he is my favorite writer, but I won’t. I will say that I have actually considered ways to possibly meet his sister-in-law, who is also a minister, so that I could meet him. I know – I’m on the verge of “creepy” there. I think a few talk sessions with MG might be all I need to move into the realm of writing I dream about … Reminds me of my 21-year-old self before I moved to MPLS to meet Prince. Oh, my.

Today, I stumbled upon an article by Gladwell in Relevant Magazine. I was immediately excited by the title, “How I Rediscovered Faith.” Please take a moment to check it out by clicking the embedded link in the title.

Gladwell, in his faith journey, recognizes something that I also learned back in 1995 when I committed to live a life of faith in Jesus as a young adult. He describes a life-changing experience that gave him insight into the strength of spirit in everyday people who maintain their faith in God. Like so many of his writings and interpretations, Gladwell brilliantly contrasts perspectives using very clear examples. His examples are usually historical, often provocative and, for me, always interesting.

As I recall my own life-altering experience that gave me a new perspective on how Christ followers are empowered to live in a way that honors the risen Jesus, his story example in the article challenges me. Hearing the stories of persecution of people of faith leads me to consider how the church today seems to see itself and our responsibilities to our neighbors. We get so caught up in the MOST TRIVIAL aspects of life as a church/club that we lose sight of things as they are … and the power we have been given to make a difference as the hands and feet of God on earth.

I haven’t gotten my copy of David and Goliath yet, but after reading this article, it’s in my online shopping cart.