On Thursday, Marko and I fly out to Atlanta for the National Youth Workers Convention. It’s sure to be a fun week of connecting, training, and encouragement.

I’ve always loved the convention and I’m stoked to continue to invest in making the convention an awesome experience for youth workers from around the country.

Here’s my line-up of stuff. I’d love to meet you!

Friday

10:00 am – Creating an Online Ministry: Three Timeless Principles for Building a Sustainable Online Ministry

4:00 pm – Getting started as a blogger

10:00 pm – Cartel Meet-up – Party like a youth worker (RSVP here)

Saturday

8:00 am – Expanding the vision: Rethinking Volunteers (Fishbowl)

5:00 pm – Free and awesome communications tools for youth ministry

6:00 pm – Using Mailchimp for Ministry

7:30 pm – Hosting a meet-up for event planners with folks from Eventbrite (contact me for more info)

Sunday 

10:00 am – Unveiling one of our projects in Big Room

Monday 

8:00 am – 3:00 pm – Extended Adolescence Symposium (tickets)

A note for those who want to meet-up. I really do want to connect and catch-up. Feel free to contact me via Facebook or here to try to schedule something. A (very good) problem that Marko and I have this year is that most of our time is already booked with meetings and such.

Random sidenote: Based on all the feedback I got on Twitter the other day. I’ll be spending chunks of this week transitioning my presentations from PowerPoint to Keynote.

After three amazing years of working at Youth Specialties, it’s with a crazy concoction of sadness and excitement, that I’m sharing today that I’m leaving Youth Specialties to start a new venture. It’s impossible to put into words the emotions I felt just now as I wrote, then again as I rewrote, and over the past weeks as I’ve meditated on having to write those words. Truly, few jobs could have shaped, challenged, encouraged, and forced me to grow more than these past three years at YS.

My hope is that I’ve received the gift which my time at YS was and it’ll act as a springboard for my next season in life.

At the same time, from a different place of emotion, I am bouncing up and down with excitement for the opportunity I have to partner with my friend Marko (Mark Oestreicher) in launching The Youth Cartel.

I told you it was a crazy concoction of emotions!

My last day as an official YS staff person will be August 31st and I’ll start my new role with The Youth Cartel on September 1st. I’m still coming to both NYWC in San Diego & Atlanta as a seminar speaker, fish bowl moderator, and presenter in the multimedia area. So I hope to see you at convention! Likewise, with my new role, I’ll have more free time at convention to chat with fellow attendees instead of racing from thing to thing.

First — A Look Inside My Head

The last several months have been incredible. The Spirit has been at work in our house, shaking things up and reassuring us at the same time. He has used many people to speak bold unmistakeable truth to us. We’ve had deep, long conversations with trusted friends, and even remarks from others such as, “Maybe your just doing what you’re doing to learn?” Or “I feel like God wants you to dream bigger.” Or even, “We’re wondering just how serious you are about San Diego. Do you want to be here for a long time?”

Into those messages have come some close friends, acting as a discernment group, helping Kristen and I weave together what we needed to do vs. what our heart might have been telling us. In the last several weeks, as we really dug into this thing, that group of men helped me (specifically) see past my own expectations and limitations and get a plain view of what God was calling me to do. (I’ll have to write about the wisdom of plurality in decisions another day.)

More important than even those outside voices has been the voice of Kristen. At every turn she’s been bold in telling me the truth. And when I said, “What do you think about this thing with Marko? A start-up is crazy.” She just looked at me and said, “It sounds crazy enough to be a lot of fun.” Yesterday I wrote a post about being bold and courageous. She lives that out better than anyone I know.

Housekeeping, literally house-keeping. Unlike a lot of ministry moves this life-change means we are staying put in San Diego and have no intention of moving any time soon. I’ve re-upped my San Diego State football tickets and added men’s basketball, as well. I mean… what’s not to love about San Diego?

Second — A Look Ahead

Stoked isn’t quite the right word for what I feel about The Youth Cartel. Marko and I have continued to grow closer as friends over the past three years. Originally, I thought maybe God was asking me to start my own youth ministry organization. But as Marko and I shared our hopes and dreams for youth ministry it became abundantly clear we needed to work together. Our byline is “Instigating a Youth Ministry Revolution.” If you’ve ever been with me for more than 20 minutes you know that’s what I’m all about. This venture is all about finding and elevating new ideas, new voices, and a new era of youth ministry. It’s that “sharedness” that drew Marko and I together to do this. As I shared in the video, we have some cool stuff in the works. And I can’t wait to give my full attention to this in September.

A fun sidenote: This is my second youth ministry start-up. My first, Youth Ministry Exchange, Marko led the way in buying from me in 2008.

Third — A Look at the Big Picture

What’s crazier than one start-up? Simultaneously running two start-ups. I’ll be sharing my time between The Youth Cartel and McLane Creative. To some degree, both organizations operate in very similar ways so it’s a natural compliment. I’ll continue growing McLane Creative with innovative design, marketing services, and coaching with my non-church clients. And all of my church/youth ministry related stuff will be part of The Youth Cartel. My hope, long-term, is that I can stay involved with both as they grow, with eventually handing over the day-to-day operations of the design firm to a protege`. (Or even one of my kids!)

That’s my news. If you have questions, leave me a comment (public) or even use my contact page. (private)

The news: Today is the last day to register for NYWC San Diego for Super Early Bird prices.

Bacon and flutophones?  The brainstorm session for this video was a blast. Ian, Tic, and I kicked around a thousand ideas around the concept of “What would be MORE AWESOME?”

The shoot: This video was shot all around our office in El Cajon. Literally all around. As Ian set-up and moved lights all around the office to get lighting set, Tic got more and more creative. I stepped out for a phone call with Mark Matlock, came back, and Tic was riding my bike around the office. Hilarious. 

But wait… there’s more. (Videos that is. Coming in a few weeks.)

Amazing the digital footprint we leave, isn’t it?

ht to William Hartz

Having just spent a week with Christian leaders I came home with a raw heart.

Surely, I came home tired.

But I also came home perplexed by our unique ability to discourage one another.

Speaker shoes

When I went to my first convention in 2002– the whole thing was weird for me. It all seemed larger than life. The speakers, bands, seminar leaders, and myriad of volunteers all seemed bulletproof. I’d never seen anything like it and…

They are not. They are no different than you or I.

Now that I sit in different rooms during NYWC I see the event through their eyes as much as the eyes of those who have driven from all over the country to attend.

Imagine their perspective. For most, coming to convention is the highlight of their year. They are eager to present. But they are also eager to reconnect with lifelong compatriots, catch a friends seminar, or even to just be with people who remind them that they aren’t crazy. For many first-time speakers and artists it is actually an affirmation of years of hard work to be invited to speak. It’s a really big deal.

And so they do their thing. (Teach, lead worship, or even perform their talent) They are all the way into it. Their heart is there. They’ve given themselves to countless hours of preparation. They bought a new shirt. They got their nails done. And for a good chunk of them this is the largest audience they’ve ever spoken to. They are feeling big time because it’s one of the few places in youth ministry where we gather to acknowledge big time people.

And when they complete their task– most are both eager for feedback and too raw to receive feedback constructively. That’s why we’ve created spaces for them to just come and relax. For most, their hearts are just too raw and they need some time before and after.

This really isn’t any different than when I’ve taught or preached. (Thankfully, I’ve never been in a band!) You leave the platform feeling exposed, you seek out feedback, you want to know that what you did or said moved people or helped somehow or was just good and not bad.

It’s a raw state that anyone who speaks or performs experiences.

Inevitably, as folks bump into me, they want to know what people were saying online while they presented. If I’m on my A-game, I’ll have selected and saved a few tweets to share. I’m careful to show them things that will affirm. But folks are savvy and they know that if I’m showing them 1-2 things that there are likely a lot more. So when they ask, I suck at lying, so we look at them all.

And it’s depressing. You can feel the shoulders slump as they are shown a mirror they weren’t quite ready to look into.

There are lots of tweets quoting people. Awesome.

There are lots of tweets about how people feel as a person is singing or speaking. Awesome.

And there are lots of tweets about flippant things as people try to say something smart so that they can get re-tweeted. Not awesome.

It’s not awesome. It hurts. It sticks. And it bitters the entire experience. No one wants to read that someone thinks their hairstyle sucks. Or the color of their shirt is wrong for the color of their skin. Or that they look kind of like a celebrity.

It’s as if we get so caught up trying to out smart-aleck one another that we forget that these are real people who will likely read about themselves on Twitter, or Facebook, or Google. Yeah, when you @reply a person on Twitter it is very likely they are going to see it! Geez, you think?

That’s the problem. We don’t think. We forget that people are not objects. We forget that this is real life. And we forget that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ.

This isn’t about convention, it’s about you

In the same breathe lets acknowledge some truth. Anyone who speaks at convention knows that criticism, even over silly things, is part of the game. It shouldn’t be but it is. And they all get over it.

And just like when a student comes into our office and rips on us for 20 minutes… we all know that flippant negative remarks aren’t about us. They tend to be about what’s in the heart of the critic rather than style of the critiqued clothing.

Think about this for half a second: Who called you to a ministry of discouragement?

Planks

As I was thinking about this yesterday, I wondered how many people would like the same treatment this week? How would they like it if they taught a Bible lesson on Wednesday night in full knowledge that while they were sharing all of their pupils were having a dialog about their words and trying to one-up one another on Twitter or Facebook.

What would it be like to teach on Sunday morning, have people shake your hand as they left, and then read that there was a rowdy debate about whether or not you’ve gained some weight.

You would feel horrible. You would cry out to God, “Why have you called me to minister to these people? Why do I deserve this? I share the message you’ve laid on my heart and all they care about is where I bought my shoes!”

And yet we do it all the time. Not just at events like NYWC, we do it all the time… all the time! We post some smarty-pants comment about a person not knowing or caring that this same person is going to see our tweet, click on our profile, and think… “Youth pastor at First Baptist, eh? What a jerk!”

My plank is just as big and as weighty as anyone else. But being common doesn’t make something correct.

You are entitled to your opinion

I think there is an important distinction to mention here. There is a distinction to be made between a flippant remark, something sarcastic or a dagger about someone’s attire, and comments made about content. I’ve never known a person to not appreciate feedback on content. Even if it’s in strong opposition to what’s been presented. That’s on-topic and relevant. And I’ve also witnessed some incredible dialog as the result of comments made on content.

On top of that, when you pay to attend something you feel empowered to judge it. You watch television for free and when something isn’t to your liking you just change the channel and get over it. But when you pay to see a movie that you don’t like and you feel a responsibility to tell other people.

I get that. And I affirm that. You’re entitled to like or not like something. But you aren’t at liberty to tear down for the sake of making yourself look good. It is one thing to not like a movie. It’s an entirely different thing to make fun of someone who came to encourage you.

Change is needed

As I sat and thought about this phenomenon while coming home yesterday, I just couldn’t get two things out my mind.

First, a passage of Scripture I memorized long ago.

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving. For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a person is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be partners with them. Ephesians 5:1-7

Second, a song we sing with children.

O be careful little mouth what you say

O be careful little mouth what you say

There’s a Father up above

And He’s looking down in love

So, be careful little mouth what you say

O, that we would be a people known for lifting people up instead of tearing them down.

I first made this discovery at work but then noticed it in my own life.

As you can imagine, I’m a little schizophrenic at the National Youth Workers Convention. I hold several different roles simultaneously, which keeps me constantly moving and shifting from one role to another. And during our general session– I’m all over the place in that room. I’m welcoming people as they come in. I’m backstage saying hello (and thank you) to our speakers and artists. I’m making sure we’re capturing all the media we’ll need for the next year. On and on.

The net result is that I’m typically working during the entire general session… I have to be very intentional about sitting down and listening to the speaker. (This year I need to listen to the speaker since I’m interviewing them right after their talk with some follow-up questions.) It’s a crazy transition to have my mind moving at a million miles per hour and then to just sit down and listen at 100-120 words per minute.

It’s in that hectic, moving about the room, that I made this discovery.

There’s a big group of people who willfully don’t sit in chairs during general sessions. It really is like a middle school dance. The vast majority of the people are having a good time, laughing and dancing and highly engaged in what happens on the stage. And the “teachers” are all hanging out on the fringes loosely engaged at what is going on– but firmly in observation mode. My movement around the room is completely invisible to those engaged in the general session. But to those who are just observing on the outside, utterly disengaged, they watch me. They wave at me. They wave me over to say hello.

Those observing and not engaging are present but not connected. The implication is that the session isn’t for them… they are just present.

That discovery has haunted me the for weeks as I realize how many times I slip into observation mode during church.

• I engage in worship, but disengage during the message.
• I engage during the social times, but disengage during communion.
• I engage when we do announcements in Spanish, but disengage when they are given in English.

Sure, I don’t sit in the back of the room. But I willfully disengage as if to say, “This isn’t for me.”

Problem #1

This habit of disengaging began as I worked at churches. Much like I have to work during general sessions at NYWC, most people who work at churches are working during the church service. Sure, the staff may be present… but they often have a million things on their mind. They are thinking about the lesson they just taught or are about to teach, or what they will say when they have to go up front, or keeping their head up to make sure that stragglers make it back in the room… if they are gone too long they feel they ought to go see what’s going on.

The end result is that few people who work at church ever get to fully participate in church.

Problem #2

Problem #1 leaves us with a pretty strong contradiction. We want to create an atmosphere where people engage with God and yet our staff is utterly unable to do so in the same space. So, our actions are actually teaching people that if they want to be leaders in our ministry they need to be really good at looking engaged when, in fact, they are merely observing.

The end result is that our actions are teaching people that in order to be a leader you need to be able to disengage at church.

Thankful.

That’s just about the only word that can describe my heart right now. The last week at NYWC left me completely spent both physically and mentally– but I sit here now with my spirit soaring.

Feet aching, eyes leaky, and thankful.

Back in December I had this silly belief that YS’s best days were still ahead.

It came out of my mouth all the time. It came out of my mouth because it was what my heart was telling me.

Obviously, the people at YouthWorks who had just hired me to stay with Youth Specialties loved it when I said that… But for those who have been around YS for a while– that thought was almost offensive. People just politely smiled when I said it. You see, our history and the things in the past have been so great, that to even set the expectation that things could be better than the past seemed like I wasn’t honoring our past.

That’s just not true. My feeling was that the best way to honor what we’d done over the past 40 years was try to work hard to resonate with what we’ve always done well while taking everything else to a whole new level. I felt like it would be dishonoring to play it safe in 2010 and it would honor the past best if we looked at every tiny detail as an opportunity to innovate.

Fortunately for me, Tic and everyone else felt the same way. And we set off on this crazy idea of not just getting through our first year with new ownership, but using this as a reset point.

Even though in 2009 we had laid our heart out and finished feeling trampled, damaged, and hurt… we would learn what we could from that and lay our heart down again. Maybe we were masochistic? But we just had this crazy desire to keep trying.

9 months later– all that was left was to see if all of that crazy idealism could become a reality. Walking into last week I kept telling people, “I’ve got this feeling God has an amazing story to tell and I can’t wait to see what it is.”

All weekend long people asked me how the weekend was going. Then they proceeded to tell me all sorts of nice things about the weekend. All I could do was smile. Everything just felt right. The venue, the set-up, the affirmations flowing from the pours of the staff, the way the stage looked… everything.

You won’t get this grin off of my face for a few more days.

Over and over again Tic told us he wanted everything to be done in such a way where people who program for a living could just relax and know our team had everything handled. Hearing nice things tells us that people were shutting off their programming minds and just enjoying themselves. Phew.

For us, the evaluation process is just beginning. But based on what we heard and saw on site– I feel really good about San Diego. (We are all perfectionist, so of course we’ll tear it all apart and fix all sorts of minutia before Nashville.)

I was never more proud to work for YS than I was over the last 7 days.

The level of difficulty was exceptionally high. We had to navigate a new relationship with YouthWorks while at the same time trying to create an amazing Youth Specialties event at a time when youth workers desperately needed it. And some how it all came together. I know it’s not good to talk about pride in the Christian world… but I’m very proud of what we did this weekend together.

I’m not trying to say this was the best NYWC ever. Nor am I saying that this was YS’s shining moment in history. But I am saying that this weekend was a step towards better days to come.

Call me crazy. Call me stupid. Call me whatever name you want. But each day I have to wake up and believe that our best days are in front of us.

A year ago I was packing for NYWC and trying to convince myself that everything was going to be OK. I knew the facts but had to convince myself that they didn’t matter. With the pressure to perform numerically stronger than ever we watched in horror as the economy collapsed. Earlier in the year we’d let go about half of our staff. And preparations for convention just had a heavy, matter-of-fact feel to it. It was anything but fun. I listened to happy music all the time in an attempt to jack myself up.

I put on a happy face, I did my best to encourage folks, and riding the Amtrak to LA I had a feeling like the week could go either way. If I ignored the black cloud we’d be OK. But if I acknowledged it the whole thing would spin out of control.

What a stark contrast to the lead-up to NYWC this year!

First off, we’re not in the same place or under the same pressure as we were a year ago.

Second, Tic is back. He’s solid gold.

Third, it feels like we are taking less risk, in some ways, in the big room sessions. Last year, we had no idea what was happening on our stage!

Third, our creativity was unleashed on the program side… so I’m confident about what we’re delivering.

Fourth, the folks joining us from YouthWorks are so excited– it’s like they’ve been shot out of a cannon.

Fifth, we’re at home. It feels so good going into convention knowing that I’m like 10 miles from my house. Kristen and the kids plan on coming down and saying hello.

Sixth, I love the theme. I love walking into this in full knowledge that people are going to be ripping off our theme for years to come.

Seventh, I get to have normal conversations with youth ministry friends. The last two cities of 2009 felt a lot like a funeral wake. Phew, all of that is gone.

The last line of the video above… when I saw it in the script… I knew it was true for people doing ministry. But a little piece of me knew it was a line for me and about YS.

We’re right where we’re supposed to be. And it’s amazing.

Epic. Awesome. Life-changing. PlanetWisdom on Vimeo.

I’ll be in Dallas next week, Monday-Wednesday, meeting with youth workers and chatting up both PlanetWisdom and the National Youth Workers Convention. Here’s the RSVP for the meet-up on Monday.

I’ll be in Tulsa for lunch on Thursday. If you want to meet up and hear specifically about PlanetWisdom but also chat about NYWC or whatever… here’s the RSVP. (Yep, I’ll buy you lunch)

If you are in either of those areas and want to meet-up… let me know. Chances are good I can make it happen. My schedule is a lot more flexible (right now) in Dallas. In Tulsa, I’m literally flying in to do lunch and flying home after lunch.

Goal: Buy a belt buckle.

It still giggle every time I hear this. Just the “Ticky” cracks me up.