We must dare, and dare again, and go on daring. ~ Georges Jacques Danton
photo HT to Likecool
For those who don’t know what drifting is… here’s a video.
For those who have ever watched a kid go adrift in his life– You know the parents typically just sit there with the camera running rather than doing anything.
Three thoughts
Today, I officially got my “Middle-Aged Man Card” in the mail. I knew I was getting close to middle-age when conversations shifted amongst my friends from ambition, early married life, and comparing/contrasting theological themes in movies to longevity in ministry, vasectomies, and how much the movie rating system has changed since we were in high school.
Seriously– These are the things 35 year old men talk about over a cup of coffee with friends. I shudder to know what I’ll be talking about in 15 years.
Rather than fill today’s post with sentimentalities of what I’ve done and/or hoped to do with my first 35 years, I thought it’d be more fun to share 5 quotes about birthday’s that made me giggle. (Or think. But not too hard since I haven’t had my coffee yet.)

Moobs
– Unsightly man boobies.Forget all of that Biggest Looser emotional stuff about being fat. “I don’t want my kids to know their dad is fat. I want to live longer. I need a new strart.” Yada. Yada. Yada. That’s all just TV psychobabble to me. If it works for you, awesome. But that show just makes me hungry. I love that there is a commercial during the weigh-ins so I have time to refill my ice cream bowl.
One thing I hate about being out of shape is where all of those extra candy bars, slices of pizza, and cheeseburgers end up. The belly, the butt, and for me… my upper chest. Blech.
And since I have the kind of friends who aren’t shy about pointing out my moobs I figure it’s probably time to do something about them.
So the last couple of weeks my running mantra has been: Run your moobs off.
Sure. It’s a bit crass. And surely it’s not Oprah approved. But it’s silly and makes me giggle and work hard at the same time. Right now, I’m about halfway to my initial goal of running a 5K without stopping and with just 5 weeks to go… I have many more hours of running my moobs off to go.

Whether I’m around professional golfers or big-time Christian leaders– one thing has been clear: It’s not merely that they are talented. It’s that they took a little bit of talent, a golden opportunity, and out-worked all of their peers to become the best.
The same thing is available to all of us.
Some people look at successful people with jealous eyes. They think, “Surely, they just got lucky.” Probably a little bit. But they also took the good fortune of an opportunity and made something out of it. Whatever their specialty is they have worked harder and smarter than you have.
So?
Whatever your goal is… there’s no easy option coming.
For me, right now, it’s to run this 5K. For you? I don’t know what your goal is. But I do know this one fact:
You’ll just have to run your moobs off.
If you are a fan of storytelling, and chances are good that you are, you need to subscribe to the Moth podcast. The Moth is a non-profit organization dedicated to the art of live storytelling. They put on live storytelling events where members of the audience get a few minutes to tell a story, live and without notes, on a theme. The best stories make it onto the podcast. It’s 13 minutes I look forward to downloading each week.
The story I’m linking below is poignant for a couple of reasons. First, it’s great storytelling. Jen pulls you in. Second, because the content of her story is just a little too close to home for a lot of my friends. Jen is caught between two worlds, Evangelical Christianity and selling Mary Kay. In the end she isn’t sure which one she is selling anymore.
(Note to RSS readers – you can come to the site and listen to the audio)
As a communicator, storytelling is one of the things I wish I were a lot better at than I am. I’d kill to have a group of friends who regularly got together and practiced telling stories. Some ground rules, some themes, and some live audience feedback to refine the craft. Because ultimately, we need to tell stories that matter!
I’m looking forward to a fun and crazy next 5 days.
We might be the only family in Southern California who has never been to Disneyland. And that’s all Megan wanted for her 10th birthday. So today, after school, we are going up to do just that. We’ll be in Anaheim tonight through Sunday. I’ve actually never done anything at a Disney park, either. So we’re all pretty amped up about it and a little nervous, too.
Sunday morning, I’m getting up at the butt crack of dawn to leave Disneyland and come back down to La Mesa to teach at Encounter. My talk is called, “So I’ve been thinking about how to be good news in my neighborhood.” It’ll be all about unleashing your creativity to be good news. (I’ll post the notes in the free section.) After church, I’m back to Anaheim to hop in the pool and then drive everyone home.
Monday afternoon through Tuesday, I’m off to Chicago to help out my friend Andrew Marin. He’s working with a publisher to produce some training materials for his smash hit book, Love is an Orientation. Actually, I’m not 1000% sure what my role is in that. But I know that I’ll be speaking into the youth ministry portion of the content, helping youth workers practically minister to adolescents in matters of sexual orientation.
I’d appreciate your prayers for this whirlwind 5-days.

When I was new in ministry I struggled with the idea that people were paying me to tell them what I thought. (About God, about how to live as a believer, and about a lot of other things.)
It took me a while to realize this simple fact: They don’t really care what I think. I’m just their pastor.
Vanity is a constant temptation when you serve on church staff. Why? All of a sudden you recognize that people are learning about God based on how you are teaching them. They are worshipping God corporately in a way you are leading them. The way you structure things is how people begin to experience various attributes of God.
Based on your own observations– You are vitally important to how people know & worship God. You are the leader and they are following you. And that feels really, really good.
And that is really cool. And it feels really good. But, it’s also just a little, itsy bitsy baby step in your heart to slide from thinking, “This is how God has lead us to do things” to “This is how I lead others to God.”
If you fall into that temptation you begin to create an ivory tower for yourself. You begin, ever-so-Christian-slyly, to put yourself on a pedestal. And you really start to believe that people care what you think, that you deserve a special place of honor, that you’ve earned a parking spot in the parking lot with your name on it.
A service goes good and you go home thinking, “I AM THE MAN!” Someone takes a big step in their walk with Jesus and you Tweet, “Joe just gave his heart to Jesus over a cup of coffee. Thank you God, I make the most of EVERY opportunity.”
Vanity creeps in and its ugly.
It all crashes down when you leave. That’s the irony of the whole thing. You feel like you are really important some place until you leave your role. And then the next Sunday the alarm goes off and you wake up to realize– those people who were so loyal to me, they are going to go to church and worship God and learn from His Word without you there. [Insert tears, wailing, and gnashing of teeth sound.]
It doesn’t matter how good you are. They will replace you. And within a few weeks you’ll just be a memory. Two months later and people won’t hardly remember how things were when you are there. People just move on.
That’s when you discover that you weren’t nearly as important as the role you filled in their lives.

You are just filling a role in people’s lives.
That’s where I find tremendous comfort. I am just filling a role. Nothing more. It’s a good role. But it’s also just a role. And when I leave? Someone else will fill my role.
Ultimately, no one cares what I think… so I don’t have to think too hard about their questions. Instead, when people ask me what I think, I just tell them the truth. “No one cares what I think, I have no authority, let’s look at what the Bible says. It is God’s love letter to you and I. There’s truth there that will help you long after I’m gone.”
Whether you are a megachurch pastor of 25,000 people or a rookie with 4 kids in your youth group, there’s rest found in knowledge of your role. Your job is to point people to the person of Christ.
You are merely the servant who points people to them to the King and Lord of all.
Proof. I do own a tie.

People are showing up and I have a million things running through my mind.
These are the myriad of things rattling through my brain as students show up for an event. I have a tendency to think 2-3 steps ahead of what is presently going on. Early arrivers check-in and I barely even acknowledge them as I’m still lost in the mental checklists of a deeply analytical moment.
And I’ve learned over the years that since I’m lost in those details it’s better to identify a couple of volunteers who can be fully present when students arrive with their parents. It’s better to allow them to greet trip participants, answer questions, and get their bag put in the right place.
But there comes a moment in each youth group trip where I have to intentionally shift gears and turns off all of that forward thinking.
Sometimes you just have to shut up and drive the van.
That’s how I’m feeling about life right now. There are a myriad of things going on. Too many things to list and some far too personal or private to share. But each day I have to find a moment where I tell myself, “Just shut up and drive.”
All of that future planning and strategy is great. But if I don’t shut up and drive forward, those plans and strategies will become regrets. And ultimately, intentions, plans, and strategies don’t mean squat. All that matters is results.
Shut up and drive.