Thank You

One of the most dreaded times of my childhood started a week after Christmas every single year. For the most part, the novelty of all my new goodies had worn off and that meant I had plenty of time available for a task I loathed: writing thank you cards.

It was never a long to-write list, but aunts, uncles, grandparents and family friends needed to receive something to show that I appreciated their generosity. The problem was not that I wasn’t grateful; I just never knew what to say. I would sit there with a thank you card that seemed the size of a billboard and all I had written after 15 minutes was “Dear Uncle Jim…”

That’s it. Sad, I know. At least I got his name right instead of having to scribble out “Uncte Tim” which probably wouldn’t go over well.

I always felt inadequate to say thanks to the extent that I appreciated them, but I particularly lived in fear that if I didn’t show enough gratitude then I wouldn’t get another present in 358 days. If I didn’t say thanks, they might even think that I didn’t really love them.

Now, I love writing thank you cards. I think they’re possibly the most underrated tool in my job. While I still struggle with what to say, I’ve discovered that the small effort of capturing in words why I’m thankful for someone or their contribution means much to the recipient.

It shows them that I noticed their presence, that their work was seen. It’s less about how eloquently I can praise them and more about the fact that I recognized their thoughtfulness, sacrifice or devotion.

So go to Target and spend $10 for a box of 50 thank you cards; then start looking for reasons to send them to people.

Cafe Truth

A friend of mine has been traveling through parts of the Midwest and told me about a small place she saw. It’s called Good Day Café and Bad Day Bar. We both chuckled about it but as that name rattled around in my head I decided that it was actually an interesting commentary on our nature.

When things are bad, we tend to want to drown our sorrows. That doesn’t just mean drinking; sometimes we drown them in ice cream or TV or food or the instant Netflix subscription. Regardless of the anesthetic, we tend to enact solitude and avoid our issues.

On the other hand, when things are good, we can’t wait to share them. I’ve found that the best sharing happens over a meal.

Recently, I had a few people over for dinner. I’ve discovered that when I have company over we invariable end up talking in the kitchen and attached dining room rather than sitting in the living room. There is an unavoidable attraction to the room with the table. This past dinner, I even put appetizers out in the living room to no avail; we were drawn to the dining room. There is something profound about a table and the act of sharing it with someone else that is linked to a deep part of us. So, the Good Day Café connects two important things: sharing of joy and the sharing of food.

The Midwest just might be on to something.

My Real Job Description

High School Ministries is all about embracing the unique season of life that a teenager lives in. They’re faced with having to try on adulthood; they’re becoming responsible for their own decisions, schedules and futures. They push for this development and can’t wait for the next steps. Teenagers always want to be on their own and see what comes next. But at the same time, they still long to be kids. They want to be carefree and play. This is the beautifully bizarre mix of a high school student’s world; they’re trapped between childhood and adulthood.

This sense of being “stuck” provides tremendous opportunity to connect with high school students. My ministry gets to step into this “stuck” world and help them develop mature, thoughtful, adult faith. I get to help them navigate the difficult questions that have no easy answers, and they get to do that in a place where they feel known and loved enough to admit that they don’t know what to think. At the same time, I get to help them play. They get space to remember that in some ways, they don’t need to be adults quite yet. Just as this space is safe for them to wrestle with faith, it is safe for them to be themselves and they are free to play. In this way, they build deep relationships with each other and with more seasoned people who feel responsible for our teenagers’ development.

As I reflect on the joys and difficulties of working with teenagers, I often think of the words Eddie Gibbs said at my church a few years ago. He said, “It is the responsibility of the spiritually mature to make sacrifices for the development of the immature.” I hesitate to put myself into the “mature” category or high school students into the “immature” one, but I know this: it has been a joy to sacrifice in order to have the opportunity to stand with them in their in-between world.

What These Numbers Tell You About Me

There’s a spot in iTunes that you can click that sorts your songs based on how many times you’ve listened to them. From time to time, I like to organize my music like this to see what my favorite songs are and which ones are creeping up the list. Today a friend of mine asked which is more important to music, the instruments or the lyrics. So I decided to look at my ten most played songs and see what they’re about.

I found that seven of them are about hope, love and redemption. Three are about doubt, loss or pain.

Over time, I’ve learned that we tend to listen to depressing music when we’re depressed because it fits our mood better. Is the opposite also true? Does this mean that 70% of the time I choose music, I’m feeling hope, love or redemption? I don’t know if I think that’s true but it certainly makes me wonder if the world is brighter than I usually give it credit.

I don’t tend to think of myself as particularly hopeful (I’ve written on this before) so this trend caught me off guard. So I think I’m going to start paying more attention to how my mood is connected to what I put in my ears. I might just learn something new about myself.

What does your top ten say about you?

Forgotten Hopes in 48 Months

Four years ago, I wrote a letter to myself. I did this as part of an exercise with my students. It’s a tradition that during the summer between 8^th and 9^th grade we hijack them for the day to get to know them and welcome them into high school. The evening closes with them writing a letter to themselves that we return when they graduate. The question posed to them is, “What do you hope you’ve experienced by the time you graduate?”

With unexpected anticipation, I opened the letter I had forgotten I’d written. It was such a mystery to me to be holding this single sheet of paper. What did 26-year-old Brendan hope for me? Who was I then, living in anticipation for who I am now?

I read my four-year-old forgotten hopes and realized that I stand in a place of greater wisdom and experience than the man I was then…and saw that every one of those hopes was fulfilled over the previous 48 months. This surprised and pleased me, because I am not a person who hopes easily. To see that I had lofty expectations for myself that, somehow, I managed to meet made me quietly thankful for the past four years.

Who will I be in another 48? What did 27-year-old Brendan hope for that I’ll rediscover in a year?

I look forward to more surprises next year and, with any luck, I can be the man my three-year-old hopes make me out to be.

A Name Revealed

For one of my classes, I was assigned a short task (designed to be enjoyable) in which God reveals His name to me. This is roughly paired with the moment in Exodus 3 in which Moses asks God for His name. We were supposed to give God a name based upon our own experience. Here’s what I wrote:

God: Brendan!

Brendan: Whuh?

G: Brendan!

B: Yes, I’m here Lord! I’m listening! What is your will?

G: Jeez, tone it down a notch.

B: Sorry, it’s just…well, normally when we talk, you aren’t so…present.

G: Now, come on. You know that’s not true. Normally when we talk, I’m doing all the listening. How would you know if I’m there or not? You don’t usually give me enough space to speak.

B: Oh, um..I…yeah, I suppose that’s true. Sorry about that. That, and well, the whole sinning thing. I know I’m usually apologizing for something, but I’ll just take this opportunity to say it again.

G: That’s kind of you to say. Do you think maybe this time instead of just apologizing you might try doing something different in the future? I’m just throwing it out there.

B: Has anyone ever told you that you have the nicest way ever of telling someone they are screwing things up?

G: It’s come up once or twice…

B: So, while I’ve got you here…

G: Let me guess. You have some questions.

B: Yeah, one or two.

G: Touche. Okay, shoot.

B: Alright, first of all, why?

G: Why what?

B: All of it. Everything. Why?

G: (chuckling) Well, that might take a while. And I’m not sure you’re really ready for that yet. Maybe some other time. What else have ya got?

B: Hmm. I sort of figured that one would cover it all. I guess I want to know why you let us be a part of it. Seems like all we do is let you down, yet you keep letting us come back to you and you let us right back into the plan. Why do you let us be a part of your plan?

G: Ah, now we’re onto something good. Well, it’s mostly because I love you. And because I want you to be better. You know that feeling you get when you say something that seems profound and it makes an impact on someone?

B: Yeah. It feels great. It feels like what I’m built to do.

G: I know. And I’m the one who makes you able to feel that way. You love that feeling because you just helped that person become better, or get over a hurt or see me in a new way. I love doing that too. You see, I know exactly what you’re all capable of and I delight in helping you get there. Yeah, sometimes it means I have to put up with your mistakes and you’re a stubborn learner. But when that light bulb goes off…it’s like nothing else out there. I love to watch you develop, even if it’s slow.

B: Why haven’t I heard this before? Of course that’s what you do with us, I just never thought of it like that.

G: Well, there’s a lot to me and pretty limited space in the Bible…you can only get so much in there. But that’s one of my names.

B: What is?

G: The Developer.

B: Seriously?

The Developer: Of course. I’m usually called Creator, but I think that forgets my ongoing work. My Spirit is called Counselor, but that’s just part of how I develop my children. Lots of my names are royalty, like Prince of Peace, King of Kings and Lord, but really, all of those are contained in how I faithfully work with my people to move them closer to me. I develop them more and more in my image.

B: So why didn’t that one make it into the book?

TD: Because I love discovery. It’s so much better to learn on your own that you’re being Developed rather than have someone tell you. If I revealed myself in that way, people might not actually see how much they’re growing.

B: So, wait, if you’re revealing to me that your name is The Developer, does that mean I’m done? Am I finished?

TD: No, not by a long shot. Plenty left to do with you.

B: Dang.

What would you write?

A Discipline of Names

Last night, I was having dinner with a half dozen friends and we began talking about the people in our lives who provide us services. Namely, the waiters, checkers and baristas that we come in contact with daily. So frequently, these are not people to us; they are essentially things designed to meet our need in that moment.

As someone who has both waited tables and stood behind the counter of a coffee bar, I can attest to the fact that I am, in fact, a real human being.

In the course of this conversation, we talked about the value of a person’s name. Using it communicates worth and humanity to the person you’re addressing. Because it is so easy for us to treat these service people as machines created for our own fulfillment, I think they often feel invisible.

So we came to conclusion that we should do our best to take notice of the people around us and we will treat them as such. That means using their name whenever possible.

This is a discipline of names. For the next week, commit to two things: first, look for nametags; checkers always wear them. When a waiter or waitress tells you their name, pay attention or ask for it again if you missed it the first time around. Second, call that person by name. You might be surprised at the impact that one word can have on someone.