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Guest Blog from Dr. Stephen Payne

Peter lowers his head with a slow shake. “Frankly,” he says, “I’m bored to the point of mental numbness… And I know I shouldn’t be; it’s a good job.” Peter tells me this because I coach him in business leadership. “In spite of all the accolades and great bonuses for my team, I get nothing out of this place.” He glances up at me: “Do you think I should look for another job?”

“I’m surprised,” I say, because I am. “Can you give me a little more to go on?”

Deep sigh… “I’m sick to death of days crammed with meetings where I sit with the same people, with the same attitudes, and the same predictable problems — especially when it comes to doing a quality job. I find myself gritting my teeth in meetings. It’s all such a grind.”

Perhaps you relate to Peter. Maybe you’ve felt that wide workaday gap between the inspiration of new challenges and feeling completely uninspired by monotonous routine. If so, experience tells me if you conclude that you are fated to sit forever stuck on the lower end of that continuum — the monotonous routine end — it will likely produce extreme reactions that, frankly, no one needs.

new challenges _________________________ monotonous routine

My heart goes out to Peter as I sense his emptiness. “Sounds pretty serious Peter,” I say as a phrase from a verse somewhere in the book of Isaiah keeps repeating in my mind:

Turn to Me and be saved…

I know that for some time Peter has been turned to seek rapid financial rewards and career progressions. He has received them so often that nothing else satisfies and emptiness overwhelms him. It’s a form of burnout. He has become blind to the idea that his true work purpose is to serve. Turning to self is turning the wrong way. It inevitably produces an unproductive, dissatisfied emotional state — a downer for Peter’s spirit, and possibly for everyone around him. As his trusted advisor my job is to get him to understand this before he makes career decisions he might regret.

Fortunately, I am prepared. This is a common problem and I’ve seen it before. I pass a card with six statements on it to Peter. “I want you to calibrate where you are today. Read down this list carefully,” I say, “then tell me which statement describes you today.” [You can do this exercise yourself; I encourage you to read all six statements before you choose.]

Wounded: I really dislike what this organization stands for.

Unaware: Things just happen here and somehow I move forward.

Learning: I try to help situations by wanting the best for everyone.

Exhibiting: In many situations, I look for ways to keep us all on track.

Leading: I always look for solutions that make us better and take us all much further.

Mastering: I’m certain the best solutions emerge whatever the situation.

Peter’s attitude changes rapidly as he reads the card. “I’ve been facing the wrong way,” he says. “I’ve been fixated on the company instead of looking at my place in the company…”

I nod. “So…where are you today?” I ask.

“I’m somewhere between “Learning and Exhibiting,” Peter says. “And I think I see what I can to do to make things better.”

May I ask which way you are facing today? Are you expecting your work to deliver something better to you, or are you working so that great things will come about through you? If you want inspiration, joy, contentment, promotion, increased sales, great colleagues, and everything you can ever need on your journey, it’s the only direction you can face. There’s no activity at work that is not rewarding when you face the right way.

Peter rises to leave, then pauses: “Say, can I keep that card? I’d like to be able to use it again if I lose track of my real purpose here at work.”

“Absolutely,” I say, and slide the card across the desk. “We’ll talk more about this soon…”
Back in my office later I look up the full quotation. It’s Isaiah 45:22:

Look to Me, and be saved, all you ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other.

Not a promotion, not a pay raise, not a bonus, not a great boss, not even a great job or brilliant performance appraisal ….simply no other.

So, Bradley is off taking his mini-sabbatical to contemplate the meaning of life, is he? What a distinct pleasure it will be to mount the camel while he is away. One can only imagine the kind of insights he will return with and then share with us in his inimitable style. As his mentor, I’m also appreciative of the opportunity to get back at him for all those “Monty Python with a Briefcase” jibes he throws at me in public places, like here and at the Princeton Event. So if there’s any dirt you would like on Mr. Moore, please just ask.

Seriously now, Brad is on an amazing journey of learning to integrate his Christianity with his job for the greater good of us all. I’m honored to have seen the incredible impact it has had at his business. This blog is just one of many manifestations of his spiritual journey. I love the way he struggles, encourages and then lifts us all on our own journeys. Just like Brad, I believe we all have to learn to overcome what I call the Great Compartmentalization – the tendency to think that our Christian teachings are right for church and home but somehow can be ignored at work. Do you ever feel that tendency?

Business leadership and spirituality is the domain of all my work. I’m a leader too, and I approach things with one major principle in mind: I believe in God’s infinite power and presence and therefore I know that God is already in the workplace. This simple thought is everything to me. I see the job of people like you, me and Brad is not to go looking outside for answers to our growth, but to to figure out our unique way of revealing the infinite potential that’s already there. That’s how God’s amazing good is revealed – through us as leaders.

And now Brad is away for a couple months, and I would like to share that approach through this blog so you can try it, too. I’ve got some simple tools, case studies, and lot’s of encouragement to offer.  I look forward to sharing with you over the summer.

Dr. Stephen G. Payne practices leadership strategy and executive coaching through his company Leadership Strategies in Princeton, N.J. A former CEO himself, Stephen works with leaders in companies small and large (including the likes of Johnson & Johnson, General Motors, AOL Time Warner, Abbott Laboratories, and The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation). Stephen is the author of First Rule of Leadership: Achieve Far More by Leading Your Self BEFORE You Lead Others.

I have to fire Todd.

His leadership performance has tanked for the past two years and I’ve had enough. Plus, I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Todd has been running one of our smaller business units - the one we never really cared about because it was so insignificant, and it just kind of ran itself. Well, the truth is that Todd actually ran it, and he wasn’t doing such a bad job for a while. This business was in a small but growing niche, and it generated a nice cash flow. We at corporate were satisfied to just keep our hands off and mouths shut and let the little business do its thing.

Until his performance started to suck.

Todd kind of gave away his low SAT scores early on, when he would continually refer to the “fiscal year” (the timing of our financial year) as the “physical year.” That’s a pet peeve of mine, the public and frequent misuse of common words or phrases, like the way people say “it’s a mute point” instead of it’s a “moot” point. Or that they are “fustrated” instead of frustrated.

Brad, I’m so fustrated with the results from the last physical year, but I guess it’s a mute point now.

See how that would bother me? The thing is, people are so oblivious when they are using these stray terms so passionately in presentations and arguments, which makes it even worse. It just doesn’t sound right. And no one wants to say anything, because, well, it’s obvious that you should have learned the correct use of that simple word in, I don’t know, maybe 6th grade vocabulary?

I eventually corrected Todd on this minor but almost laughable-if-it-weren’t-so-pathetic-detail, if for no other reason than it was an embarrassment to hear him say “physical year” all the time. But sure enough, at the next Board meeting (at a Board meeting!) Todd launches into a presentation regarding projections for the upcoming year and he concludes by saying,

 “…so, I’m pretty sure we’ll achieve the EBITDA target for next physical year, no problem.”

He obviously didn’t take my advice on how not to sound like a dope in front of Very Important People.

At least he said EBITDA right. (Not that he knows what it means.)

Being the mature spiritual Christian guy that I am, I am going to try and help Todd. Perhaps God will teach me some important spiritual lessons through this experience.  Even though right now I am convinced that even Jesus would fire him.

No one likes to fire people. It’s awkward, it’s disturbing, and you can’t help but feel bad for the person on the other side of that conversation. Even if the employee has been a high-maintenance nightmare, when it comes right down to it, we still don’t want to have to look him in the eye and tell him it’s over. Even when we know that it is the right thing to do.

So we procrastinate. We hem and haw and give them second and third chances. We correct, we train, we develop, we sleep on it, and hope that the next day our problem employee will magically transform into the charming, high-performance manager that we had hoped for all along. But at the end of the day, many people just won’t, or can’t change.

That’s how it was with me and Todd for a while.

I decided that if I explain things to Todd very slowly, give him a little more guidance, and have some faith in him, perhaps together we could recover the business performance. Isn’t that what Jesus would want? Yes, I’ll give Todd the benefit of the doubt. Let’s get behind him and give him a chance!

But working through this turnaround with him turned out to be very irritating. I mean, he’s a decent fellow and has his positive qualities and all, but he resisted taking advice or ultimatums from me or from anyone else, and the situation just got worse.

A few weeks ago I met up with an acquaintance – an older, wiser gentleman named Howard, who had just come back from visiting a retired executive friend. He told me how they had spent time kind of looking back over their careers, reminiscing about life lessons learned.

“What is the one most important lesson that you have learned in your executive career?” Howard asked his friend. “I mean, if you had to give one piece of advice to business executives, based on all of your years of corporate leadership experience, what would it be?” His friend paused a moment, and said, “I would have fired more people.”

Well, fair enough. But that sounds harsh, doesn’t it?

Howard’s executive friend obviously knew that as a leader, you are only as good as the people you put in place around you. If you settle for mediocrity, or poor character, your entire business will suffer. And really, it’s not in the best interest of either party to perpetuate a bad situation. Plus, it’s poor stewardship of your company’s resources to invest in non-performing assets!

Howard was telling me this story because he knew I was struggling with the decision to fire Todd. He was really telling me what most of us as leaders already know. It’s OK to fire people — when they aren’t performing up to expectations, or if they’re in over their heads, or especially when they are destructive or demoralizing, as some employees turn out to be.

I wondered about Jesus, if he were in my shoes – would Jesus have fired Todd? If so, how would he break it to him? I couldn’t find any mention of a disciple layoff anywhere in the gospels. In fact, Jesus didn’t even fire Judas. Judas Iscariot, the evil betrayer! And Jesus knew about the horrible act he was planning! In that situation, the only thing Jesus did was to let Judas know that He knew: “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me.” (Matthew 26:23, NIV). Which you would think would have freaked out Judas enough to maybe think twice about his betrayal, right?

Although advice on firing people was not forthcoming from Jesus in the gospels, I have a much greater confidence that the Apostle Paul would definitely want me to fire Todd. Paul strikes me as a driven, demanding, intimidating, dictatorial leader who does not put up with poor performance from anyone. That’s why he had to write so many letters to the churches he started after he was gone, because he had to make sure they were getting it right. And in Acts chapter 15, didn’t Paul fire that dear, sweet, encouraging man, Barnabas, after working side by side with him for so many years? Yes, Paul disagreed sharply with Barnabas’ suggestion for bringing his friend Mark on their next mission road trip, and that was that. Paul had Mark pegged as a poor performer (seeing that Mark had ditched them during a previous mission trip. I guess that would qualify), and wouldn’t have anything to do with either of them. So much for encouragement.

I ended up firing Todd after giving him many, many chances to improve his business performance and make better decisions. But it just wasn’t meant to be. Todd knew it was coming, that he was in far over his head. And even though it was hard to hear, he seemed relieved in some ways, too. And the spiritual lesson I learned? I don’t really know. Maybe it was just in the act of being patient, trying to give him a chance, providing clear guidelines and criteria for him to work with. And to be fair, not jumping rashly into a harsh decision when peoples’ lives and livelihoods are at stake. Then, finally, when it came time to cut him loose, doing it in way that was compassionate and respectful and that somehow held his dignity in tact.

I heard that Todd has started his own business, and that it’s going pretty well. God has something great in store for him. I know He does.

I can hardly believe that one full year has just about passed since I started up the Shrinking the Camel Blog last July. Ninety posts later, I can honestly look back and say, “What was I thinking?”  I have no idea how I ever mustered up the time and energy for all of that creative writing, but there it is, hanging somewhere in that Tag Cloud to your lower right.

I am happy to report that I have made some great friends along the way, and am ever so grateful for those who, for some odd reason, faithfully take the time to read my new posts each week. I am also still a little surprised that the folks at InsideWork, HighCalling and SalesGravy ever invited me to share these stories on their massively higher-trafficked sites. (Thank you.)

As the summer bears down in earnest, I am reflecting upon what it all has meant. This one thought strikes me: I definitely need a break. But I don’t want to shut down STC for the summer – that would kill me. And maybe you would miss me too. The solution? Reruns! I have a sneaking suspicion that most of you did not discover this Blog until it was well underway. I know this in fact, because I have been keeping track. The readership didn’t really pick up in a consistent and serious way until late November and December. So most readers started with whatever was getting posted then. And we all know that no one actually goes back and reads posts from the past. Who has the time? And, here is the beauty: You have no idea what you have missed. 

I suppose there is some Blog etiquette rule about posting reruns, but I am going to ignore it because I have written some awesome material over the past year and in my opinion, it is absolutely worth posting again.

In addition to these reruns, I am also going to introduce a guest Blogger from time to time: my friend and co-conspirator in the Leadership & Spirituality field, Dr. Stephen Payne. His material is much more practical than mine. Plus you will likely pick up his British accent, which makes the read sound more prestigious, too. (See? That word “prestigious” doesn’t sound nearly as good the way I just wrote it now as it would with a British accent). I think you will like it.  

I will drop in occassionally for a word or two, but will mostly spend my time focusing on some big-picture stuff. Like, where the aych am I going with all of this? Right now, I am not sure. But, I have a feeling that, as Dr. Payne always says, God is showing me the pathways. I’ll keep you posted.

Several months ago I posted an article called, “It’s Okay to Feel Stupid Sometimes.” In it I said that sooner or later, most of us will eventually run into a situation where we are in over our heads. And for a while, we will feel stupid. Being a sympathetic and encouraging career advisor, I went even further to say that feeling stupid is not only normal, it is actually a good sign. It means that you are growing and stretching beyond your comfort zone; that you are open to learning. Perhaps feeling stupid could even be a stepping stone to your next big promotion. I was dispensing some good, practical advice.

Like most of my Blog articles, I figured this one would run its course for a few days of activity, and then everyone would go away and forget about it. But a strange and mysterious phenomenon has been occurring. My “Stupid” post has turned out to be a smart draw to my Blog.  “It’s Okay to Feel Stupid Sometimes” is slowly climbing its way to becoming the top all-time post here at STC. Almost every day since the original posting, it continues to get page views as a result of the following Google search:

 “I feel stupid at work.”

That’s right. Vulnerable souls all across the world are sitting down at their computers every day, tapping that desperate phrase into their Google search bar, and landing right here at Shrinking the Camel. Well, friends, you have come to the right place. I am here to serve you.

Apparently there is an incredibly underserved market of employees in the workforce who are struggling at their jobs. I assume these people are simply looking for advice, support and encouragement. But I can’t help wondering what is behind this odd new trend. Are there really that many stupid workers out there, aside from myself? Have I possibly discovered a new niche?  

 I would like to try a little experiment.  A Blogging focus-group, if you will.  Here’s the deal: If you have found this post as a result of a Google search about feeling stupid at work, can you please tell me what’s going on? Can I help? Is there a book I should write on this subject, one that you would be willing to shell out $21.95 for? In exchange for your feedback, I am willing to give you some email advice, answer any questions, or just listen to you whine, if that makes you feel better. Really, I am very, very curious. I want to know what’s going on with you.

So. Leave me a comment, or ask me a question. Or, if you are shy, send me an email at bradleyjmoore@verizon.net. Tell me in five hundred words or less what the circumstances are that are causing you to feel stupid at work, and what it is that you are hoping to find in your internet search.

This could be your big chance to get in at the ground floor of an entirely new workforce movement.  I look forward to hearing from you.

I worked as a management consultant for fifteen years before settling down with the company I am currently with. Like attorneys and used-car salesmen, consultants are subject to their fair share of derision and ridicule. I honestly couldn’t tell you why, since it is such a fine and upstanding profession, but I hear it all the time. An enthusiastic colleague will approach me in the hallway with a loud voice, coming a bit too close to my face, saying, “Hey, Brad! You were a consultant, right? Well, you know what they say about consultants?”

“No,” I say patiently, wondering if this could possibly lead to even a tiny shred of amusement.

My colleague continues. “Consultants are the ones who borrow your watch to tell you what time it is!”

Yes, ha ha. That is so funny. Especially the 50th time I’ve heard it.

Or, how about this clever twist on the light-bulb joke:

Q: How many consultants does it take to change a light bulb?

A: It depends – How large is your budget?

Now that one really is funny.

Some have even gone so far as to claim that consulting is the oldest profession in the world, pointing to the serpent in the Garden of Eden as the first consultant. “Come on, Eve! Take a bite,” says Eve’s crafty advisor. “Trust me, it’s best practice. That apple will make you really, really smart. And pretty, too!”

You can go ahead and make all the consulting jokes that you want. The truth is, being a management consultant rocked. It was stimulating, challenging, and you got to see the direct results of your work. I liked the way you could walk into a business situation without any preconceived ideas of what was what, get a lay of the land, and then generate a solution which usually made a great deal of sense to everyone in the room. Then after the brilliant implementation was complete, you shake hands, pack up your PowerPoint presentations, collect your fee and move on to the next job. It was very rewarding.

I recently developed an even greater admiration for the profession when I discovered that Jesus himself had a brief stint as a management consultant. That’s right, Jesus was a business consultant. You can read it for yourself, right there in the Gospel of John, chapter 21. At this point in the gospel story Jesus had already risen from the dead, but he was a little spotty on making public appearances. The disciples hadn’t seen him in a while, and I am sure they were getting antsy, unsure of what they were supposed to do next. Maybe they were bored, too. One day Peter looks out at the lake and says, “I’m going fishing.” Just like that, like he couldn’t take one more minute of waiting around for nothing to happen. A few of the other disciples jumped on board. “Good idea, Peter. I’m with you.”

So off they went into Peter’s boat, back to their old fishing jobs that they knew so well. And who knows? Maybe they were even hoping to make a couple of bucks while they were at it, in an attempt to do something productive instead just sitting around all day in that stuffy Upper Room.

They ended up fishing all night long without getting any results. Not only had Jesus stood them up for the past few weeks, but they couldn’t even do their old job right. Nothing seemed to be going their way. Those fishermen were probably not in the best of spirits by the time the sun began to rise that morning. Next thing you know, Jesus shows up on the scene. He’s walking along the beach in a oh-it’s-no-big-deal-I-am-risen-from-the-dead-and-I-think-today-maybe-I’ll-just-make-a-fire-and-cook-breakfast-for-my friends kind of casual way. The disciples didn’t really noticed him.

Jesus calls out to the boat from the shore, “Hey guys, have you caught anything?” And they shout back, “No!” Then Jesus goes into consulting mode and offers some business advice to his client: “Throw your net down on the other side, and you will catch some fish.”

Well. I am a little surprised that none of those hearty fishermen had thought of that idea before. They had been working all night, after all, and I am pretty sure there were some seasoned professionals in the crew. But that’s how it is when you are a consultant. You always see the thing that is so obvious, yet no one else has noticed because they are so darn close to it.

Upon hearing this very basic suggestion on how to do their jobs better, the men shrug their shoulders. “Ok, what the hay,” they mumble, and down goes the net, across to the other side of the boat. And, Surprise! The net immediately fills up with fish, becoming so heavy that they can’t even heave it up onto the boat. “Who was that mysterious consultant on the shore?” One of them probably asked. “We should hire him on a regular basis.” Then it suddenly dawns on John. He lets the net slip from his hands as he slowly turns towards the shore. He takes a closer look at that consultant on the beach. He is frozen for a second and the breath goes out of him. “It is the Lord!” he whispers. Then his face lights up. “It’s Jesus!” He shouts to the others. “It’s him! Jesus came back to see us!”

Hearing this, Peter plunges into the water, splashing and flailing back to shore so that he can be the first one to reach Jesus while the others lug in their awesome haul. As the disciples make their way back to the shore, they smell something good and notice that Jesus has a nice toasty fire going with a couple loaves of bread and some fish on the stove. Then they all share a very nice reunion brunch.

I think of how often that story plays out in our careers. We all have gone through periods where we are beating our heads against the wall trying to make ends meet, doing our best to hit goal or meet projections, and nothing is happening. And maybe you haven’t seen Jesus in a while, either. You are frustrated, sweating, cursing, despondent and exhausted, wondering where Jesus went and why he hasn’t shown up lately to help you out. “Why does he not understand my situation!” you think to yourself.

Then Jesus breezes in and says, “Hi! Watcha doin’?” It seemed like he wasn’t paying much attention to you, but maybe it was the other way around. The truth is that Jesus knows much, much more about your little situation than you give him credit for. He usually has a plan, too, but for some reason he doesn’t think we always need to know about it. But this is what I do know: Jesus cares deeply about the details of our business lives, as much as he cares about any other aspect of our lives. He knows how hard we work, how important our jobs are, and how discouraging and bleak our circumstances can be at times. And although he may not necessarily create a magical path to success for our every endeavor, he certainly is active, moving and breathing in and among our very existence, flowing through all of our creative efforts.

We should not hesitate for one second to ask Jesus to help us with our jobs, because he obviously wants to be involved. Sometimes he may even surprise us with a big catch, followed by a lovely brunch to celebrate.

Or, he may send in a consultant

Dear readers: This story has nothing to do with business or spirituality or anything of that sort. It’s about fathers and daughters, and watching them grow up. I wrote this a while ago, and thought Father’s Day would be a good time to post it.  Happy Fathers Day, especially to Dads with growing daughters!

I am still getting used to the fact that my daughters are now full-fledged teenagers. It has been hard for me to accept the fact that they are growing into young women, even though it apparently has been going on for quite some time now, right before my eyes. I suppose this is just another adjustment I need to make. Hopefully, one that I will make soon, before they are out of the house and living on their own in New York City, working for an ad agency and sending me a text to meet them at Union Square Café so they can introduce me to their latest investment-banker boyfriends.

Being a father was so much more, well…easier, I guess is the word, when they were little.   I had much greater confidence in my fathering abilities when my daughters were younger. I knew I was a good dad, plain and simple. Not to sound arrogant or presumptuous, but back then fatherhood was somehow more defined, more of a sure thing. I knew what I was supposed to do.

There is a certain rhythm to parenting little children, even though you are mostly sleep-deprived and the house is always a mess and you barely have a minute to remember that you once had a vast expansive life all on your own. But I knew better what was expected of me then – especially how to talk to those little girls. They had their basic needs of course: food, bathing, sleep, a few toys and a TV; and then you had to make sure to keep them on the routines of bedtime and meal time and bath time and school time. The rest was filled in with playing and goofiness and adoration as we are tossing them into the air, holding their little hands as we walk through the park, carrying them on our strong shoulders and tucking them into bed at night with a story and a prayer, placing their beloved stuffed animal just so. 

And then there was the discipline – Oh, how easy the discipline was when they were little! I was so powerful, with a full deck of disciplinary cards in my back pocket to keep them on good behavior. There was the time-out, the stern voice, the ability to swoop them up and physically re-direct them. And sure, they could scream and tantrum and embarrass you in the supermarket, but the bottom line was that I was a lot bigger and hopefully had a much stronger command of the English vocabulary. Therefore I was pretty much in control of the situation.  Plus they needed me.

I have so many fond memories from when my girls were smaller – before they had their periods – when they adored me and snuggled with me and laughed at all my stupid jokes. They obediently did almost everything I told them to do. There’s nothing like a precious, naughty little girly daughter for a dad to love. The memories of those days are etched forever in my mind. In fact, whenever I speak on the phone to one of my girls, I still picture them at the peak of precious childhood innocence: one is frozen at six years old, and the other at nine. Even though they’re something more like fourteen and seventeen by now. But in my head, in my imagination, they are forever captured in the golden years of childhood. Lilly with her soft-as-a-pillow skin, her silky long black hair, and that cute little speech impediment (she couldn’t make the sounds of s, f, j, l or r until she was in second grade. I loved it. At age three, I recorded her voice, making her say: “See the fox run.” “Hee da ha wung.” It was very sweet.), and Sophie with her porcelain face, golden curls, and that innocent enthusiasm for exploring everything around her.

I used to make up stories and games, because the girls were such a great, adoring audience to my bizarre sense of humor. Sometimes I ended up laughing harder than they did. But, alas, these silly little games can only go on for so long before the girls start to think it is completely ridiculous, and embarrassing, even.

Soon enough, the inevitable happens. They get older, smarter, opinionated, independent, and quite adept at text-messaging at lighting speeds.  The parent is no longer the center of the universe, as the orbiting child is now pulled away by the enormous gravitational forces pressing upon them from the massive cluster of peer-group friendships. These friends are now seemingly omnipresent thanks to the accessibility of Facebook, Instant Messaging, texting and cell phones. In this new universe, the parent is no more significant than a passing meteor that circles every eighty years or so. A quaint point of interest, but not relevant. Or so they’d like to pretend. The problem is that the parent hasn’t participated in this shift, and generally doesn’t see it coming. Our world hasn’t changed much, at all. We’re still the parent and they are still the child – they’re just a lot bigger now.

The thing I worry about most as a parent during the teenage years is that I am no longer sure if we still have a relationship anymore. Sure, I’m still their dad, but it has become so much more awkward and difficult to just simply talk with my girls. The other day I noticed that the bulk of our conversations are more like one-sided commands: “Clean your room.” “Get your homework done.” “Finish the laundry!” “Feed the dog!” Or, when you are in a gentler and patient frame of mind, they are posed as questions: “Did you feed the dog yet?” “Have you finished your homework?” “How many times have I told you No texting or computer until you’ve finished your homework!” “How in God’s name can you leave a wet towel on the floor every single morning no matter how many times I tell you to hang them up in bathroom?!” Things can get out of hand quickly, because these commands must be repeated several times daily, or else the tiny shred of order and discipline we think we have will implode like a black hole. We just want them to learn to take on a few responsibilities, right? 

The sad truth is that our teenage children generally don’t want to talk to us anyway. When I make an attempt to take an interest in my daughters’ lives, asking a few innocent questions about what’s going on in their world at school or with friends, what I mostly get is rolling of eyes, a deep sigh, and a snap back with a one-word answer, like they are too bothered with the energy it takes to respond.  That’s probably the biggest disappointment in raising teenagers. They don’t want to talk to us anymore. We are no longer relevant to their lives. We are not cool. They don’t need us anymore.

It hurts sometimes.

But despite those dark moments of doubt that have overshadowed my fathering abilities, thank God, at least my wife is there to reassure me. I hope she’s right. And to my girls’ credit, they at least will write some very thoughtful notes in the cards they get me for birthdays and Fathers Day, telling me how much they love me, and how wonderful they think I am. Once they even bought me a t-shirt for Father’s Day that said “DADTASTIC!” Well, I guess it is true that I do spend a fair amount of time carting them around, if that means anything.  And Lilly will still let me scratch her head when she goes to bed sometimes. We all enjoy watching an episode of The Simpsons together occasionally. And we can still get laughing real hard from time to time when I do those stupid tricks with the dog.

To further reassure my worried self about my deteriorating fatherhood skills, I have created a new file in my brain called “Reasons Why I am A Good Father.” I fill it up with memories, images, and conversations. These will become evidence of my competent fatherhood skills, as if I am preparing for the day when the Dr. Dobson police will break into my house and interrogate me.

As I was compiling the Dad brain-file, I recalled an event that, upon reflection, stood out above all the others as the pinnacle of sacrificial love of a father for his daughter. “How could I have missed this!” I thought to myself. Yes, I reasoned with newfound confidence, this is the stuff that myths, legends and Dreamworks movies are born from, and it’s been going on in my household all the while! This surely sets me apart from the rest, and symbolizes that I have passed the ultimate test of fatherhood – at least for those of us with daughters.

It is called the “Period Purchase” test. 

This is the one where the dad has to be willing to run out to the store upon emergency request and purchase your daughters’ maxi-pads, tampons and other feminine gadgetry without complaint. The reason that I know I’m a good Dad, is because last year I went to the grocery store with my  twelve-year old daughter for the sole purpose of helping her pick out the right pads. I don’t remember where my wife was at the time, or why I was chosen for that moment. But there we were at Safeway at 7 pm on a Tuesday evening, staring at a huge wall of feminine hygiene products which offered a cheerful array of colorful selections. It was overwhelming. We slowly began to make sense of the vastness, narrowing down by category, attempting to decipher the correct choice. She reaches for a box.

“No honey, not those – they’re not the right colored box. Remember? It’s blue and green?” She puts the box back and reconsiders the wall. 

“These, dad?” I examine the packaging closely.

 “Oh—no, not those… Those are overnights. You don’t need all that padding. Hey – look at these. Here it is.”
We hold up the package and study the color, the cartoon depictions of its contents, and the secret-code product description.

 “All right, honey, I think we’ve got the right one here. Okay?”

 “Okay.”

 “Oh – and don’t forget to get the tampons, too. You need both.”

 “Okay.”

I honestly don’t know why they need both, but for some reason they do.  We pick up a couple other items, since we are at the grocery store, before making our way to the register. Now, only a truly experienced man of the world such as I could boldly approach the cash register with feminine hygiene products and not show the least bit of self-consciousness or humiliation.  I did not flinch.

I get in line and glare at the shoppers around me. “What are you looking at?” I am focused, determined. I am the proud father of a beautiful young teenage girl!

I imagine the women standing in the lines nearby, watching me as I confidently pull out the Always package from my shopping basket and casually toss it on to the moving belt.

“Awww, look at this Sheila!” one would whisper to the other. “He’s buying pads together with his daughter! I have never seen anything like this before!” 

“What a fantastic father!” the friend replies, as the virility of her own husband diminishes.

“Not just fantastic,” I reply to my imaginary admirers. “I am Dadtastic!”

The cashier rings us up. Batteries (bleep!). Light bulbs (bleep!). Snickers (bleep!). Maxipads (bleep!). Tampons (bleep!). Sixteen thirty two? Here ya go. It’s just another trip to the grocery store for me, ladies. I take my little girl’s hand in mine as we carry our bag of groceries back out to the car.

I almost forgot to mention how awesomely spectacular my luncheon address was. Which, hopefully is the part that all of my loyal Blog readers are so dying to hear about. “The debut of Bradley J. Moore!” I imagine you thinking, “We have been waiting months for this, since last July when the Blog started!” (That, by the way, is equivalent to about 32 years in internet-Blog-time). So there we all were, the thirty or so participants, seated comfortably in a private dining room at the Princeton Theological Seminary. The room had a bit of that ivy-league country club feel: paneled walls, wooden floor, gilded portraits of the moneyed forefathers, etc., etc. After everyone had pretty much finished lunch, I stood up at the podium and began to speak. Finally, here was an audience who, by all appearances willingly sat before me with rapt attention! It was quite a dream come true for this humble Blogger.

I read a couple of my stories to the audience about my loopy journey along the spiritual-business continuum, and hopefully inspired the participants in some small way. No one threw food or dining utensils at me, which was the first indication that things were going pretty well. And then, as I got into it, I only noticed one or two people secretly tapping into their blackberries. Victory!

It was all said and done in about thirty minutes. The glory of the applause died down quickly, though, because we all had to get right back to work. You see, we had spent the morning session in small groups trying to work out what our Spiritual Accelerators and Antagonists were, along with our Spiritual Purpose for work. Big Questions, no doubt. Then we came back together as a group and shared what we each had come up with. What was interesting was that everyone’s answers were a little different. There was no pattern or theme that fit the entire group. Each individual had different ways of connecting their work to God’s purpose, and different triggers for what would unravel it. Mine, for instance, were answered thusly:

My Spiritual Accelerators: I look at my career and every day work life, and ask, what gets me excited? What am I good at? What can I do in my company better than anyone else? The things that give me energy and enthusiasm at work are my best spiritual accelerators. For me, it is the ability to bring clarity and order out of chaos, inertia or ambiguity. This is what I am good at. I constantly look for opportunities to help people in the organization through strategy, planning, or problem-solving sessions. This is how I feel God is using me, and when I am bringing value and usefulness to those around me.

Another Accelerator would be helping or coaching others in their jobs, and in navigating their careers. I like investing in people’s personal and professional development.

Both of these “Accelerators” involve me working at my best. It is here where I am having a positive, productive impact on people and on the organization.

My Spiritual Antagonists: I can be my own worst critic and enemy. There are all these little voices in my head just waiting to tell me that I screwed up, and I have to manage that. I don’t know where they come from, why they exist, or the psychology behind it, but I know that if I don’t fight it, I can get sucked into some pretty destructive self-talk. Thankfully, over the years I have gotten much better at handling that.

Also, fear of failure, or feeling out of control can be a Spiritual Antagonist for me. I can get very anxious and worried when I feel out of control with a project that is not going as I had planned. It is hard for me to let go and trust God.

My Higher Purpose: I believe my spiritual purpose for my job involves bringing a blessing to others in my company by giving them something of unique value based on my God-given personality, talents, and experience. This is how I think God works his kingdom for all of us: blessing others through our unique gifts and talents. For me, I have a desire to bring clarity and to create clear paths for a project or team to help move them forward to a higher and better future. This is one way in which I can bless people, and my organization.

As the group compared notes, and got ideas from each other, we then prepared for the big test: So, what are going to do about it? The last question we had to tackle involved the dreaded Action Plan: developing, and committing to, practices or tools to better enable us to stay aligned with our spiritual purpose, to fight the antagonists and remain open to the accelerators.

Okay, so how was this going to work?

Once again, the groups split off into their little corners of the Erdman Center, to create their strategies for sustaining a high-octane spiritual connection at work. By this time, I noticed that in our little group we had starting going quite deep in our discussion. Answering this question required us to open up a bit, to be transparent with our new friends, and to even ask for their help. You could see it later on, too, when the larger group gathered together late in the afternoon to share stories and strategies. It was obvious that most small groups had formed some new kind of spiritual bond. Many of the Action Plans involved tapping into the small group members themselves – they created some level of accountability, checking in with each other from time to time. People had all sorts of plans. Some said they would begin meditating or reading scriptures in the morning. Some committed to saying a prayer at work before every meeting. Others promised to go out for a walk during the day, join a small group, or just take better care of themselves.  

My action plan involved creating a deeper awareness of the Holy Spirit working through me at my job. I had confessed to my small group that I tend to focus too much on my performance as the means for God to bless the work that I do (”God, please help me to be successful, and I will then be able to bless a whole bunch of people, I promise!”). But that doesn’t always work, spiritually. I get uptight, anxious, spending too much time wondering if I am hitting those standards I set for myself. But as a result of the discussions with the new friends in the group, I have made a subtle but monumental shift in my perspective. Now, I see the work I do simply as a way to help other people, in their work. Pretty basic, I know. But something I needed to figure out: My work is not about me – my performance, my impression, my perception. It’s about the Holy Spirit working through me to manifest God’s purpose, in touching the lives of others. Really, I am just here to help people in their jobs, in their lives. I’m here to bless those around me. To reveal God’s purpose.

Performance vs. Purpose. That is truly an interesting juxtaposition. I come to work every day, plug in and get busy. I like performance. I like to set and hit targets, to prove what I can do. But now, I’m thinking: Is my work really just about my performance? What would happen if I based my work on God’s purpose, rather than my performance? What if I viewed what I do at work as a way to help the people around me, rather than helping myself? I think God would like that.

At the end of the day David Miller, the Director of Princeton’s Faith and Work Initiative came by to spend a little time talking with us about some of the concepts he has developed on faith in the workplace. You can pick up his book and read about it here. He really is one the most brilliant minds out there devoted to attacking this subject, and it was the perfect way to end the program. I wish he could have stayed longer.

The seminar was done. We all exchanged our business cards, said our goodbyes and headed home. My small group made plans to get together in early July, to check in with each other. Almost two weeks have since gone by, and still every day at work I am thinking about that question: Do I base my work on my performance or on God’s purpose? It’s causing me to think very differently about how I approach my work. Really, I think something is changing.

The next morning, several of us gathered together at 7:30 am in front of the Erdman Conference Center for a Meditative Walk. It was one of those perfect spring mornings, where the angle of the sunlight was so sharp and the air so crisp that you could have cracked it open with your teeth. We took the walk in silence, trooping down the sidewalks of Mercer Street, which is lined by a number of vastly tasteful Victorian homes (surely indwelled by a number of vastly tasteful tenured Princeton professors), and then through a park where we stopped to prayerfully bask in the bright morning sun. It was refreshing and invigorating. Lord knows we needed it, because as it turned out, the day before us was going to require a good deal of spiritual heavy lifting.

Day two of the Princeton Event was designed to be a collaborative forum for the participants to discover practical ways to better connect their spiritual lives to their professional lives. This, however, I have found to be a very tricky subject. Sure, it’s great fun to talk about our faith, and to discuss theological frameworks or scriptural backing to confirm that our work is all part of God’s purpose and plan for our lives. But then I go back to my job – and then what? How does God’s presence help me deal more effectively at my job with decision-making? How does that help me to be a better leader for my team? How does my spiritual life make a difference in how I negotiate a deal? Usually I just end up forgetting about God, and get into the busy routine of the work-day.

Our leader, Dr. Stephen Payne, kicked off the morning discussion by assuring the group that he didn’t have the answers to any of those questions. Per se. Instead, he said, we were going to work on figuring all of this out ourselves, as a group. Then he challenged us with this: What will we do differently after we leave this conference? Gosh, we haven’t even started yet, and he’s already putting pressure on is to deliver results! This is not your typical seminar where you can sit there passively taking notes and drift off thinking about your plans for next weekend. We were going to have to work hard to get our money’s worth. Because at the root of this entire workshop is a profound and nagging mystery: How do we make our spirituality in the workplace into something practical?

Dr. Payne spent a few minutes setting up the program for the day. The starting point, he said, must be our acceptance of the fact that God is already in the workplace. It’s not like you have to go looking for Him under your desk or in the dark dungeons where the MIS programmers work. God is already there, right at your desk, right in your car, right there in the Board Room! And it is up to us to access His infinite presence and unleash the power of the Holy Spirit while we are working. Unfortunately, for most of us, we have no idea how that actually works. We are so used to compartmentalizing our lives – church goes over here; my family is there on that shelf; my career goes here in this cubby – we don’t think our spiritual self has any business coming to work at all. We ignore that spiritual self like he’s the embarrassing nerd in 7th grade gym class that you didn’t want to be associated with in front of the cool kids. The idea of God actively involved with us at work truly requires a paradigm shift.

Dr. Payne described a framework that he wanted us to use for the balance of the workshop, to help address this issue of connecting our work with our faith. It was pretty simple. There were four questions that he asked us to respond to:  

  1. What are your Spiritual Accelerators – things that give you more focus, effectiveness, balance, and Holy-Spirit connectedness at work?
  2. What are your Spiritual Antagonists – things that drain your leadership internally (from within your mind) and externally (from in your organization)?
  3. What is the Higher Purpose for your leadership, which exists in harmony with your career goals, and which balance and energizes you?
  4. What is your Action Plan – practices and/or tools that you are committed to use as you grow in your journey of fulfilling your Higher Purpose?

I could see the little thought bubbles rising up over the heads of all the participants. “Holy Smokes, Doctor P!” we were thinking. “In all of our collective working histories, no one has ever dared to pose such direct and spiritually intrusive questions!” No, these are  not the type of questions you would typically expect to address at your next performance review. I know the headhunters haven’t been asking these questions lately as part of their prescreening process. And for some odd reason, John Maxwell hasn’t thought to present these particular questions in any of his books yet. But there they are. The Dr. Payne truck backed up and dumped them all over the floor. These are intensely important questions, nonetheless.  And I guess that is the whole point of coming here. We broke into groups of three’s and four’s and got busy.

To be continued.

That’s right, I am now abbreviating it as simply, “The Princeton Event,” like it’s already become a legend after just one session, and that you should know exactly what I am talking about. That’s how good it was. And, come on, saying “Leadership & Spirituality: Transforming the Workplace” is such a mouthful, isn’t it? Plus it is hard to fit into a Twitter posting. If you were there, you would know exactly what I mean. If you weren’t there, then you, my friend, will soon find yourself with a burning desire to be there next time around so that you too become a Princeton Event Insider.

On Sunday evening, May 31, a fascinating mix of people assembled at the Erdman Center on the Princeton Seminary campus for a day and a half of discussion around integrating their spiritual lives with their work lives. If I had to sum it all up, I would say it was those wonderful souls who were the highlight of the whole thing. There were 35 men and women in attendance, representing a wide diversity of experiences, church affiliations, racial backgrounds, and industries. It was one heck of a cross-section of American business life. There were corporate executives, human resources professionals, Sales VP’s, attorneys, consultants, pastors, entrepreneurs and a couple of folks in the non-profit arena who served the social services/social justice areas. As far as religious affiliations go, there were Catholics, Methodists, Assemblies of God, Baptists, Presbyterians, Unitarians, and a couple of non-church-goers, who are still on the journey, trying to figure out where they belong. I can tell you all of these details because that was the first thing we did upon settling in on Sunday evening. We each told a little piece of our story of what brought us there. By the time the last person had introduced themselves, it was apparent to all that we were in for something special: the caliber of these accomplished, hard-working, thoughtful business people who had chosen to gather together at Princeton that evening practically guaranteed it. And we all had one that one thing in common: an earnest desire to pursue a higher level of spiritual connectivity to our working lives.

We became an instant community.

After the welcome and introductions, we received a message from the Reverend Raymond Bonwell, who is the Director of the Erdman Center. His message centered on the inherent goodness of work, based on Genesis chapter 3. I had never heard this before: God told Adam to till the soil – before the Fall. Before Eve. Before the fruit-eating scene. God had intended for Adam to work in the Garden of Eden as part of the Goodness of enjoying God’s creation. Your work is good, the Reverend was saying. It’s good work. It’s God’s work. How about that.

Then the event’s leader, Dr. Stephen Payne, quietly led the group in a Lectio Divina, which is a meditative scripture reading. I have never done this before, but had heard about this unique meditative practice from others. The passage for tonight was John 13, the familiar story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. Instead of rushing through the reading and then listening to an expert’s pre-packaged advice on servant-leadership, we just closed our eyes and listened quietly to the scripture, to see what God had to say to each of us. Here’s how it went. The lights were dimmed slightly, and everyone took a collective deep breath, exhaling into silence. We relaxed and got comfortable in our chairs. One person then read through the entire passage of John, chapter 13. Next, another person read each verse, but just one at a time, pausing for about 15 seconds between each verse. Then, silence. Finally, a third person read the passage again in its entirety. We all remained very still, absorbing the spoken words in the quiet. After a few minutes, Dr. Payne instructed us to break up into pairs to share our experience of this passage.

The thing about the reading that resonated most with me personally was when Jesus goes to wash Peter’s feet, who resists. Jesus says to Peter, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Gosh, I don’t know about you, but that seems to happen to me all the time. I am blindsided by some random event, and I am thinking, “What the heck just happened to me? What is this?” And then I look down and see Jesus, sitting there on the floor with my soaking wet feet in his hands. He’s stripped down to his underwear and a towel wrapped around his waist, and he is looking up at me, straight into my eyes with this intense, loving look, that says, “Brad, I know it seems bizarre – But don’t worry about it. You’ll figure it all out in good time. Now please relax because I need to dry you off.”

Half the time we have no idea what is happening in our lives, or why, but eventually, usually in retrospect, we can see God’s purpose. I’ve got to trust that He knows what He is doing, even when I think He has no business doing it. In the long run, He is teaching me something important, and he knows that I don’t get it. Not yet.

When the reading was finished, it was almost 10:45 pm, so we all said our goodnights and headed off to our rooms. The Holy Spirit was surely with us that evening. We were off to a great start. A meditative walk through Princeton was scheduled at 7:30 the next morning. I had never even heard of such a thing as a group meditative walk before, but I was now feeling spiritually adventurous. Why not? Who knows what else God has to tell me, if I bothered to stop and listen?

To be continued into Day 2