My friend Jeff is a buttoned-up finance guy in his late thirties who manages a business unit for a large corporate behemoth. We go to the same church, I see him and his wife occasionally in social situations, and he is all of what you would expect from someone with a career in accounting: introverted, smart, quiet.
But get a glimpse of his CD collection, as my daughter did one day while babysitting his two little boys, and you will discover another side to this man.
“SHUT. UP.” my daughter exclaimed in a quiet whisper while panning the stacks of electronic-trance music. “Dad,” she secretly disclosed to me afterwards, “Mr. Carter is really into techno dance music. Um…Why?”
I later approached Jeff on the topic, curious myself about the seeming disconnect between his public persona and the all-night rave party about to happen in his living room.
It turns out Jeff was a former DJ in college, and he has never given up his passion for the music. Being an eclectic music afficianado myself, I proudly dropped the name of the one electronic dance CD I happen to own (which I discovered, oddly enough, through a review in the Wall Street Journal), and asked him for more recommendations. What followed was a lengthy email, at least five paragraphs, with links and discussion groups and reviews and radio podcasts.
Jeff was not just an enthusiast, he was an expert curator.“You should listen to these podcasts every week,” he firmly suggested, as if he were about to create a series of techno music metrics to ensure my compliance.
It is not unusual for people to have the most unexpected passions and hobbies outside of their day jobs. And why should we be surprised? The jobs, after all, are never as fulfilling as we might imagine them to be. And none of us should be so defined by just one thing. Read more…
The Evolution of Christian Branding
Remember that fish-shaped thing, that cute little symbol that is supposed to be associated with Christianity?
It is called the Ichthys,which is an anagram made up of five Greek letters that mean “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.”
The Ichthys apparently dates back to the first and second century, when Christians had the misfortune of being hunted down, tortured and killed by Roman rulers. Those fish symbols were like a secret code, letting them know when they were safe among other believers. Seeing that little fish painted onto a cave wall or scratched in the dirt on the road said, “Hey! I’m a Christian, too! I am not going to torture or kill you!” Big sigh of relief.
Fast forward to a somewhat more lax period in Christian history: America in the early 1970’s.
Some enterprising and observant marketer noticed that Christians were now blossoming into a substantial and attractive affinity-demographic group, one that was perhaps easily schnookered, too. Hey, why not turn that ancient Ichthys into a branding gimmick for Christians? That way, they can identify themselves to each other, and to the whole world. They’ll love it!
Soon enough, that little fish started showing up everywhere: on apparel, tote bags, key rings and car bumpers. Flashing one of these was as if your were saying, “Hey! I’m a Christian, and I’m also cool!”
A few years later, some cynical evolutionists latched on to that fish idea. They replaced the Greek lettering with “Darwin” and added feet to that little guy, morphing it into a lizard-looking creature that had just crawled up out of the primordial ocean. Read more…
A couple weeks ago, my wife texted me, “Don’t forget to buy Megamillions tickets!:)”
Upon learning of the $656 million jackpot, we couldn’t help ourselves from fantasizing about a potential windfall. We’d quit our jobs. Pursue our dreams. Finally, we’d do what we loved.
When the lottery numbers were drawn, ours, of course, did not come up.
I like my job, but other creative passions run deep that I don’t have the luxury of pursuing. There are bills to pay, after all. And tuitions. And the ever-looming threat of retirement. Providing financial security is important to my family.
But facing the other side of fifty, I often find myself thinking hard about the choices stacked up against the years I have left. I wonder, what would it be like to run full throttle towards the things I really love doing – writing, for instance, or other creative endeavors?
Why not risk it all and pursue what I love? Isn’t that what God wants for me?
I devised a little matrix in my head, with “What’s Important” on the vertical axis, and “What I Want to Do” on the horizontal, and started plotting my activities to see where they landed on the different quadrants. I quickly realized that doing too much of what I like may not necessarily be the most important thing in the long range for my family, for my future.
It’s one thing to dabble (which I do), but my little vocational fantasies could hardly replace my income. Pursuing one’s creative dreams may sound glamorous, but the reality is that the top of the economic pyramid for those in the arts is so tiny, with the vast majority of talented people planted firmly at the lower-echelon base.
The difference between doing what’s important and doing what you want is that the important stuff is usually harder. It’s not so much fun. It won’t generally fulfill all of your deepest personal longings. Working a boring job to provide your family with financial security often gets a bad rap from motivational wonks who would have us drop everything to pursue our dreams, but I believe there’s something valiant, even noble about it.
You can finish reading this over at The High Calling by clicking HERE.
Making Amends
My friend George, who runs a substantial company, received a call last week from a former employee he hadn’t seen in thirty five years, right out of the blue.
“What did he want to talk to you about?” I asked.
My friend shrugged his shoulders. The last time they spoke, George had fired him for stealing petty cash from the office till, and he gave him a good talking-to. There were “character issues,” is how George put it.
“I bet it has something to do with me firing him,” he guessed.
“Maybe he wants to thank you?” We both cracked up laughing.
They made arrangements for a visit, and when he arrived, this gentleman handed George $100.
“I know it’s been a long time,” he said, “but I want to make amends for what I did back then. I know it was wrong.”
George accepted the money, along with the apology, and they both agreed he would give it to a charity.
Wow. Thirty Five years later, to track someone down, to pick up the phone and make a call to what must be an intimidating executive who surely thought you were an ass, to set an appointment, and then to drive 45 minutes in your car, to scarf up one hundred dollars, and hand it over? And – this part kills me - to own up to it, and say you’re sorry?
Such reconcilatory resolve. Such redemption initiative.
What was going on with this guy, I wondered. Was he going through therapy? Did this incident haunt him the rest of his life? We all make mistakes, for goodness sake. Was he unable to grow to the next stage of his spiritual development until he took care of this?
I don’t know, but he sure has me thinking about all the stupid things I’ve done and tried to forget.
When Jesus Was a Consultant
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. The truth is, being a management consultant rocked – it was stimulating, challenging, and you got to see the direct results of your work.
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. 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 had been 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.
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 other disciples joined in. “Good idea, Peter. I’m with you.” So off they went into Peter’s boat, back to their old fishing jobs 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 the next 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 notice him.
Jesus calls out to the boat from the shore, “Hey guys, have you caught anything?” And they shout back, “No!” Then Jesus goes all 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 yet. 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.
The men shrug their shoulders. “Ok, whatever,” they mumble, then down goes the net across the other side of the boat. And, Surprise! It immediately fills up with fish, becoming so heavy that they can’t even heave it onto the boat.
Continued at The High Calling…
Image by Kevin Schoenmakers. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr.
Read My Lips
A colleague of mine, an older, distinguished gentleman, has this habit of trying to predict and finish my sentences.
For instance, when I start a conversation, he’ll interject these vocal micro-blips while I’m speaking, as if he was just about to say the exact same thing.
Me: “We were on the verge of closing the Colosco deal, but the hurdle rate was..”
Rob: “too-“
Me: “um – a little higher than the buyer…”
Rob: “Fi-“
Me: “uh, than the buyer was thinking, so our numbers were off a little..”
Rob: “S-!“
Me: “No, yeah – we didn’t close the deal after all.”
Honestly, it’s hard to concentrate on what I’m saying. It feels like I keep getting short-circuited throughout the conversation.
I don’t know if this is a display of solidarity, like “Hey! I was thinking the exact same thing!” Or, perhaps it’s nothing more than a subconscious tic that sets off when he gets excited. Either way, he’s a wonderful, supportive friend and mentor, therefore I don’t mind so much.
Then there’s, Dot, a sullen and entitled woman who was in my employ as a bookeeper for a time, and she would do the same thing. But with her it was clearly an issue of sucking up.
She would interrupt me, attempting to complete my sentences, but then her voice would trail off when she could see I was heading in a different direction.
Me: “Dot, that spreadsheet Sue reported yesterday didn’t…”
Dot: “didn’t have th-“
Me: “uh, didn’t have all the correct customer ac-“
Dot: “Customer acceptance rates to…”
Me: “No, Customer account numbers. Go fix it, please.”
She had no idea what I was going to say, and based on her lack of experience, she couldn’t possibly have predicted where my sentences were landing.
Dot was no doubt trying to kiss up and look smart at the same time, but it kind of had the opposite effect, and instead was simply annoying. The thing is, she constantly did this with me, but never with the rest of the office staff, whom she viewed as inferior. I suppose she was entirely oblivious to her own behavior.
Anyway, people sure can act strangely. But you were probably just about to say the same thing.
Entering the Fog
I took these shots from my car with the i-phone while driving between morning meetings.
The fog was thick and sluggish, with no intention of burning off any time soon. Read more…
