When I thought about how I'm doing recently in this season of ministry, I thought of a quote from the movie, It's a Wonderful Life:
Clarence: You sent for me, sir?
Senior Angel: Yes, Clarence. A man down on earth needs our help.
Clarence: Splendid. Is he sick?
Senior Angel: No, worse. He's discouraged.
I'm going to be honest, I think I subconsciously try everything I can to beat around the bush of admitting that I'm discouraged. That's probably because my temperament likes to lean towards the image of having it all together and being super positive all the time. It's also probably because I know the truth in my head: I have a God who is stronger and greater than any obstacles or issues I may face. How can I be discouraged if our God is for us? What can ever stop us or stand against, right? That's how the psalms and songs go.
Also, it's bothersome that my attitude tends to bend with the weather. I find that it can sometimes be harder to see the exciting things God is up to through the pelting sheets of rain and depressing gray sky.
But there's this one thing that has been coming back to me again and again ever since I spotted it during one of the sessions at Expedition, our InterVarsity Upstate NY Fall Conference. I was in the Map & Compass Track, where students were equipped with tools and skills to dig deep into God's Word by studying the book of Jonah with the inductive, manuscript study style. I noticed that even though Jonah went out of his way to flee God and go in the opposite direction of where God wanted to send him, God drew people to Himself. God worked through Jonah's disobedience to bring the sailors on the ship Jonah was taking to flee the presence of the Lord came to faith in Him.
That's pretty amazing, especially to a young woman like myself who tries so hard to "do the right thing" and go in the "right" direction. It's a deep, freeing reminder of how God is in the business of drawing people to Himself in His time and His way and that it doesn't rest alone on my own abilities or power.
I'm realizing I need to spend some time reflecting deeply on the vision I have for RIT's campus and its students. I'm not as excited as I once was because the vision I once had is leaking and getting fuzzy. I need to practice some self-leadership and do well to uncover and steward the vision God graciously offers me for the sake of the gospel.
If I don't cultivate the vision for myself and for others, how can I expect my student leaders to do the same?
Monday, October 29, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
"I Stand by the Door" - by Samuel Moor Shoemaker
I stand by the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,
The door is the most important door in the world-
It is the door through which people walk when they find God.
There's no use my going way inside, and staying there,
When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind people,
With outstretched, groping hands.
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it ...
So I stand by the door.
The door is the most important door in the world-
It is the door through which people walk when they find God.
There's no use my going way inside, and staying there,
When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind people,
With outstretched, groping hands.
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it ...
So I stand by the door.
The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for people to find that door--the door to God.
The most important thing any person can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch--the latch that only clicks
And opens to the person's own touch.
People die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter—
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it--live because they have not found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him ...
So I stand by the door.
Is for people to find that door--the door to God.
The most important thing any person can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch--the latch that only clicks
And opens to the person's own touch.
People die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter—
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it--live because they have not found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him ...
So I stand by the door.
Go in, great saints, go all the way in--
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics--
It is a vast roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms.
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes venture in a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening ...
So I stand by the door.
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics--
It is a vast roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms.
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes venture in a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening ...
So I stand by the door.
There is another reason why I stand there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them
For God is so very great, and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia,
And want to get out. "Let me out!" they cry,
And the people way inside only terrify, them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled
For the old life, they have seen too much:
Once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving--preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them, too,
I stand by the door.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them
For God is so very great, and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia,
And want to get out. "Let me out!" they cry,
And the people way inside only terrify, them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled
For the old life, they have seen too much:
Once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving--preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them, too,
I stand by the door.
I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not, yet even found the door,
Or the people who want to run away again from God,
You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him, and know He is there,
But not so far from people as not to hear them,
And remember they are there, too.
Where? Outside the door--
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But--more important for me--
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
"I had rather be a door-keeper ..."
So I stand by the door.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not, yet even found the door,
Or the people who want to run away again from God,
You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him, and know He is there,
But not so far from people as not to hear them,
And remember they are there, too.
Where? Outside the door--
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But--more important for me--
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
"I had rather be a door-keeper ..."
So I stand by the door.
Sam
Shoemaker, founder of Faith At Work at Calvary Episcopal Church in New
York City in 1926, was also one of the spiritual leaders who helped
draft the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The picture on the box.
The start of classes last week was also the starting pistol for my one-on-one meetings with key student leaders. And as I've been meeting with leader after leader, I find myself having similar conversations around a very important thing I learned to develop as an InterVarsity student...the big picture of vision.
I used to consider myself an extremely detail-oriented, present-minded person. I remember freshman year I couldn't really plan beyond two weeks ahead of time, and two weeks was really pushing it. I got annoyed with the way announcement emails I received were formatted to squeeze important details for six events going on that week into one fat, plain-texted paragraph. I knew if we were going to have a potluck, we needed to figure out how many people were coming in order to bring enough utensils, plates, napkins and cups and if it looked like most people were bringing starchy food and meats, I would provide some vegetables or desserts for a little variety. On spreadsheets, charts, and word documents, well, I was the one who wanted consistencies in capitalization, indentation and punctuation. Believe me, it wasn't just because I was an English major.
To some extent, I'm still like this today. In some ways I've changed, and at the same time, some things haven't really changed. But when I became a student leader in InterVarsity, the concept of vision and question of "where are we going?" really stretched and over time shook everything I knew about my detail-oriented, present-minded leadership.
"What do you mean, 'where do you want the fellowship to be in two years'? How can we think about two years from now when we barely have it together for next week?"
That's what I used to ask myself incredulously when my staff worker challenged me and/or my E-board team to think beyond "here." This big, fat, abstract, fuzzy picture of "there" was nowhere near my radar. But over time, my way of thinking has shifted. I've made connections of how lacking a clear vision can cost your leadership and the growth and change you want to see happen. Or how without it, this "vision" can become a delusion or the groundwork for cynical and jaded leaders and followers.
Among InterVarsity staff in the NY/NJ Region, I've heard the analogy of "big picture" being the "forest" and "details" as the "leaf" on a tree in the forest. But while I think it's a helpful picture of identifying those who tend to see things in bigger, more abstract ideas and those who see the smaller details, I think it's lacking the depiction of how the big picture and the small details relate to each other and how both are necessary in leadership.
Last year I was listening to a Tim Keller sermon (which had nothing to do with leadership, vision, or anything of the sorts) while I went running one morning, and he used an analogy that I love applying to this concept of "big picture" to "details":
Let's say you just bought a new house appliance that you need to assemble. Well, let's use an Ikea dresser as an example (I heard those can be quite complex). It comes with all the nuts, bolts, and parts in a giant box that are necessary in putting it together. All of it is necessary, including the box. The goal is to have a completed and functional dresser. If you only had the pieces and didn't have the picture on the box, there'd be a good possibility that you'd get frustrated with putting it together and quickly lose sight and motivation of what you wanted to make in the first place. And obviously, if you didn't have the pieces and only had the box, you would simply have an empty box good for uses other than to make the beautiful dresser pictured on it. In order to build your Ikea dresser, you need to have the picture on the box ready for you to refer back to when you get stuck focusing on the pieces, and sometimes, you'll be able to figure out where a piece goes better by looking at the picture as opposed to the thorough but unclear typed instructions in the manual.
That's the relationship between vision and details/next steps. We need to develop the big picture of our vision before we can set off on our day-by-day, week-by-week decisions and evaluations. It doesn't mean we don't care about details. I still deeply believe that the small things make a big difference...that they matter. But understanding what the vision is helps make sense of the details and next steps and what you're actually working towards in the long run, not just today.
I used to consider myself an extremely detail-oriented, present-minded person. I remember freshman year I couldn't really plan beyond two weeks ahead of time, and two weeks was really pushing it. I got annoyed with the way announcement emails I received were formatted to squeeze important details for six events going on that week into one fat, plain-texted paragraph. I knew if we were going to have a potluck, we needed to figure out how many people were coming in order to bring enough utensils, plates, napkins and cups and if it looked like most people were bringing starchy food and meats, I would provide some vegetables or desserts for a little variety. On spreadsheets, charts, and word documents, well, I was the one who wanted consistencies in capitalization, indentation and punctuation. Believe me, it wasn't just because I was an English major.
To some extent, I'm still like this today. In some ways I've changed, and at the same time, some things haven't really changed. But when I became a student leader in InterVarsity, the concept of vision and question of "where are we going?" really stretched and over time shook everything I knew about my detail-oriented, present-minded leadership.
"What do you mean, 'where do you want the fellowship to be in two years'? How can we think about two years from now when we barely have it together for next week?"
That's what I used to ask myself incredulously when my staff worker challenged me and/or my E-board team to think beyond "here." This big, fat, abstract, fuzzy picture of "there" was nowhere near my radar. But over time, my way of thinking has shifted. I've made connections of how lacking a clear vision can cost your leadership and the growth and change you want to see happen. Or how without it, this "vision" can become a delusion or the groundwork for cynical and jaded leaders and followers.
Among InterVarsity staff in the NY/NJ Region, I've heard the analogy of "big picture" being the "forest" and "details" as the "leaf" on a tree in the forest. But while I think it's a helpful picture of identifying those who tend to see things in bigger, more abstract ideas and those who see the smaller details, I think it's lacking the depiction of how the big picture and the small details relate to each other and how both are necessary in leadership.
Last year I was listening to a Tim Keller sermon (which had nothing to do with leadership, vision, or anything of the sorts) while I went running one morning, and he used an analogy that I love applying to this concept of "big picture" to "details":
Let's say you just bought a new house appliance that you need to assemble. Well, let's use an Ikea dresser as an example (I heard those can be quite complex). It comes with all the nuts, bolts, and parts in a giant box that are necessary in putting it together. All of it is necessary, including the box. The goal is to have a completed and functional dresser. If you only had the pieces and didn't have the picture on the box, there'd be a good possibility that you'd get frustrated with putting it together and quickly lose sight and motivation of what you wanted to make in the first place. And obviously, if you didn't have the pieces and only had the box, you would simply have an empty box good for uses other than to make the beautiful dresser pictured on it. In order to build your Ikea dresser, you need to have the picture on the box ready for you to refer back to when you get stuck focusing on the pieces, and sometimes, you'll be able to figure out where a piece goes better by looking at the picture as opposed to the thorough but unclear typed instructions in the manual.
That's the relationship between vision and details/next steps. We need to develop the big picture of our vision before we can set off on our day-by-day, week-by-week decisions and evaluations. It doesn't mean we don't care about details. I still deeply believe that the small things make a big difference...that they matter. But understanding what the vision is helps make sense of the details and next steps and what you're actually working towards in the long run, not just today.
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