Today I’m guest posting over on the Catalyst blog. They talk mostly about leadership. And the church. And personal development. It is one of my favorite resources. But when they asked me to share something I was stumped. I quickly realized I am more comfortable talking about all the things I don’t know, instead of the things I do. So I decided to write about a great piece of advice that I learned from my boss and resident leadership expert, Michael Hyatt.
I work for a leadership sage. Really, I do. Five days a week, I roll out of bed and stumble to work where I have the opportunity to learn about publishing, communication, and life from a man who has earned every bit of his extraordinary influence.
And so I hear a lot of nuggets.
I should do a better job of documenting the greatness, of soaking up every word he utters. Unfortunately, like anything that is bestowed in abundance, most days his words are digested and not properly savored.
But one day, several weeks ago, as he spoke to a group of Owen Graduate School of Management students, Michael Hyatt shared the best piece of advice I’ve ever heard, (click here to continue reading).
I am officially addicted to Angry Birds, or as I now like to call it “the great time suck.”
If you aren’t familiar with Angry Birds it’s a silly little game on the iPad and iPhone that is as addictive as it is dumb. Literally you sling birds out of a slingshot into different scenes and try to propel them or other props to kill snorting green pigs. (I told you it was dumb! But if you want to go download it, click here.)
IT IS NOT that I have a problem with playing all time. I still somehow manage to get up in the morning, go to work, and enjoy time with friends and family without even giving a second thought to killing those snarky little pigs.
IT IS that when I start playing I have a very difficult time quitting. I gently coax myself, “just one more level.” Then luck strikes (and it is all luck), I annihilate the green guys, pass the level, and have this overwhelming need to see if the next one is also attainable. You see how this can be a problem?
Addicted.
And my new “addiction” has me scratching my head. Why do I have such a hard time stopping? Who is the tempting little voice that lures me in every time? And what is up with this gaping hole in my self-discipline?
After a growth spurt (whether up or out), inevitably my clothes don’t fit in the same way. Sometimes they are too short, sometimes they are too tight, and sometimes they are just plain wonky.
Most of the time I am too stubborn to accept my current reality.
I naively stuff myself in, doing whatever it takes to seal the deal.
“They’ll stretch out. Surely, they’ll stretch out,” I whisper repeatedly in hopes of convincing myself. But inevitably as the day wears on, I realize that, they, in fact, WILL NOT stretch out.
And I feel foolish.
Foolish for not realizing that I have grown. Foolish for not realizing that my clothes have stayed the same size. Foolish for not realizing that it is time to say goodbye and move on.
Unfortunately, my issues go far beyond my bulging closet.
When I experience growth, whether it be physical, mental, or spiritual, I am reluctant to accept my new reality.
I continue to stuff myself into old behaviors and patterns. But just my gaping shirt, what used to be a perfect fit is quite snug, what used to be comfortable is now constraining.
And I feel foolish.
Foolish for not realizing that I have grown. Foolish for thinking I can still fit into old molds. Foolish for not realizing that it is time to say goodbye and move on.
Have you experienced what I now affectionately refer to as ”growing pains”?
“Yesterday I walked into Target and walked out under budget and ONLY with the things I needed. I deserve a hug, a cupcake, and a gold medal!”
She got dozens of responses congratulating her for this impressive feat. Because WE ALL KNOW it is practically impossible to walk out of Target with just the things on your shopping list.
There is always something else beckoning you as you walk down the aisles of this monstrous superstore, “Purchase me.” “You really do need me.” “I am such a great deal and you deserve something special.” “No one has to know that I am not what you came for.”
I fall every time. And as I watch the young checkout girl scan the bevy of unnecessary items that have accumulated in my basket, I cower in embarrassment and think, “this place has defeated me again.”
I walk out to my car and make a firm resolution not to put myself in this situation again. A grocery store or the dreaded Walmart will have to suffice until I can learn some semblance self-discipline. But a couple of weeks later I find myself back for another round. Or more accurately another beating.
Here’s what I want to know. What is the most ridiculous thing you have purchased at Target?
My answer is here (except I bought the oh-so-practical VHS version, watched it once because I HAD to see what happened to my favorite heroine, and now lies in a box somewhere collecting dust.
A couple of weeks ago I finished John Ortberg’s The Me I Want To Be. I LOVE this book. It got me thinking, brought clarity to the cloudiness, answered questions I didn’t know I was asking, and offered peace to replace some of my stirring. My copy is all marked-up with underlines and notes of promptings that need to be further explored. To force myself to do the hard work and dig into some of the dark corners of my soul, I’ve asked my extra-small group if we can read and discuss. I am so grateful that they agreed. This morning as I flipped back through the book, this passage stood out:
God has existed from eternity – but he has never had a relationship with you before. He wants to do a new thing with you. The problem many people face when it comes to spiritual growth is that they listen to someone they thing of as an expert – maybe the pastor of their church – talk about what he does, and think that is what they are supposed to do. When it doesn’t work for them – because they are a different person – they feel guilty and inadequate; they often give up.
God has a plan for the me he wants me to be. It will not look exactly like his plan for anyone else, which means it will take freedom and exploration for me to learn how God wants to grow in me. Spiritual growth is hand-crafted, not mass-produced. God does not do “one-size-fits-all.”
He goes on to say:
A spiritual discipline is simply an activity you engage in to be made more fully alive by the Spirit of Life.
So I’m curious, what do you that makes you feel most fully alive?
Here are a few of mine:
Going to hear a great singer-songwriter perform at an intimate setting
An impromptu afternoon drive with my windows down, music blaring
Sunday mornings at Cross Point (and the inevitable long lunch afterwards)
Spending time investing in (or being just plain silly with) my nieces and other favorite kids
I’ll go ahead and admit it. I am a huge Don Miller fan. I love EVERYTHING I’ve read that he has written. And I love EVERYTHING I’ve heard him say. His words simply resonate.
I readBlue Like Jazz when I was in my late twenties and pretty skeptical of the religious rigamarole. Don’s candor and sense of humor made me want to reexamine my religion, and more importantly my faith. A few years later I devoured A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Again, Don challenged my thinking and encouraged me to explore what it means to live a great story.
Always warm and engaging, Don feels like a kindred spirit, walking just a few steps ahead, talking me through the path he has taken, and subtly warning me of its pitfalls.
That is why I can’t wait to read the rerelease of Searching for God Knows What. (I know, I can’t believe I haven’t read it yet, either.)
I’m also jazzed because my buddy, and Thomas Nelson editor extraordinaire, Bryan Norman crafted this amazing game that I can play (and potentially win prizes) while I read. So for the next several weeks I’m going to read, play-along, and possibly blog about the journey.
Would you like to join me? Details about the game are below.
Twelve games played over eight weeks are built into the book Searching for God Knows What. Each game requires you to sleuth, decode, think, and find…well…God knows what. Be one of the first to decipher the clue and claim your reward: Incredible prizes exclusively for those who play the game. Plus, you’ll find new opportunities to connect with Don directly, meet other fans, and earn points with every action you take. It’s fun, easy, and addicting. So take just two minutes, and let’s start searching!
Starting the week of July 19, 2010—for eight weeks—you will receive clues.* Each clue will lead you to a game hidden in Searching for God Knows What. To play the game, here’s what you need to do:
Step One: Go to www.DonaldMillerFan.com and sign up for an account or use your Facebook account to sign in. Step Two: Take actions, create groups, and get new clues each week. Step Three: Decode the correct answers and enter them at www.SearchingForGodKnowsWhat.comto solve the puzzles and be eligible for prizes. Step Four: Win!
*If you’re joining the game late, no worries. All clues will be available at SearchingForGodKnowsWhat.com until the end of time so you can play whenever you want.
If you’d like to win a copy, leave a comment below sharing a few words about an author that has impacted your life.
Winners will be selected on Monday at 12 PM.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received one or more of the products or services mentioned above for free in the hope that I would mention it on my blog. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Update: Winners Selected and Notified on July 19th. Thanks everyone for your comments. I loved hearing what authors have impacted you.
A couple of months ago, I had the pleasure of attending the wedding of one of my best friends. Since I was in the wedding (and since there is no notable boy in my life), I went by myself. Not a big of a deal. I’ve done it dozens of times. Really, not a big deal.
Well, kind of a big deal.
Mostly because as I’ve gotten older, I have realized that anyone who is married, has been married, or once had a dream about getting married, sees a single 30-something at a wedding and thinks, “I need to bestow my wisdom on this poor individual.”
And without a date, I am utterly defenseless.
So they begin, bombarding me with advice on how to find a man, and keep him, like it is their divine calling.
Here are a just a few of the priceless nuggets of wisdom I’m talking about:
“Have you ever thought about internet dating? I would never have been bold enough to try it, but I hear it worked for ____ and _______. You should do it. It would be fun.” – Um, okay. Thanks. I’ll get right on it. I was just waiting for your stamp of approval.
“Don’t settle. Be choosy. You only get one chance to do it right.” – Great advice. But do they realize I’M 33 and single? Don’t think settling is MY issue. THEY were the ones who got married before passing “Go.”
“_______’s single.” or “_______’s recently divorced.” - Really? What am I supposed to do with this? I mean what am I supposed to do with this BESIDES file it away on that list of single men I keep in my journal
“I really wish I had someone to set you up with. I would never dare set you up with (enter spouse’s name here)’s friends. You are too good for them.” - Call me crazy, but I just don’t understand the math on this one. The skeptic in me thinks that as I listen, scan the room, and nod in agreement, the married dudes are saying the exact same thing to their single buddies.
So I’m curious…
Singles: What “helpful” advice have you gotten at the recent wedding?
Married folks: What “helpful” advice do you love to impart? OR what crazy things have people said to you about having babies, living happily ever after, etc.?
Author’s note: I write this in jest. Nine times out of ten, the advice is as endearing as it is frustrating. I actually take great comfort in knowing that people want to help me in my quest to fulfill all my dreams.
You dwell in the songs that we are singing
Rising to the heavens
Rising to Your heart, Your heart;
Our praises filling up the spaces
In between our frailty
And everything You are;
You are the keeper of my heart. And I’m restless, I’m restless till I rest in You, till I rest in You I am restless; I’m restless till I rest in You, till I rest in You, oh God. Speak now, for my soul is listening;
Say that You have saved me;
Whisper in the dark, the dark.
I know You’re more than my salvation;
Without You I am hopeless;
Tell me who You are;
You are the keeper of my heart
You are the keeper of my heart. Still my heart; hold me close; let me hear a still small voice. Let it grow; let it rise into a shout, into a cry.
Sunday night after spending an incredible day playing with family, eating a huge meal, and watching a fireworks spectacular, I came home and had my own little pity party. (I know, not how you thought that sentence was going to end?)
It has taken me a couple of days to understand where the seemingly random sadness and grief came from. And candidly I’m still not sure if I can put words to my feelings, but that is not going to stop me from trying. So here it goes:
Have you ever dreamed of a different life?
But it seemed that life was not within your grasp?
So you filled your days with compelling adventures? With amazing people, places, and pursuits?
And those people, places, and pursuits were fulfilling. (Really, they were.)
So fulfilling that oftentimes you convinced yourself that they were what you needed, even if not exactly what you wanted?
And over the course of time you buried your childhood fantasies?
But then one day you went to a far-away land where everyone seemed to be living out your perfect ending?
And your people, places, and pursuits suddenly seemed rather lackluster.
And you grieved those buried dreams?
Yeah, me too. Me too. Not fun.
Even fireworks can’t rescue a day like that.
But today I sit with some much-needed perspective…firmly in His grasp, appreciative of what I have, of what I’m learning, and of where I’m going.
