Advocates

The word "advocate" means, "a person who pleads for or in behalf of another."  It's a word that has been near and dear to my heart lately.  We may find ourselves advocating for people who are in their early years and unable to make decisions on their own.  We may also find ourselves advocating for those who are in their later years and also are unable to make decisions for themselves.  But how about other people for whom we advocate?

When we advocate for children or others who can't make a decision for themselves, we are assuming the responsibility of knowing what is best for them.  There are times when we might become voices for the voiceless.  We may advocate for our children when they are being bullied.  We may advocate for someone who has been falsely accused.  We may advocate for a loved one who has lost the capacity to make decisions for him or herself.

Advocacy is a good thing, but like every good thing, we always need to be careful about what a friend and colleague in ministry calls, "the shadow side."  The shadow side is the shadow that is cast by something good that happens to cast a long shadow.  The better something is, the bigger it is, the more opportunities for it to cast a long shadow.

I have seen times when people become advocates for others who still have a voice and the capability of using that voice.  When this happens, we tread into dangerous territory, potentially removing the voice and decision-making ability of those whose faculties still allow them both of these things.  If we advocate for people who have not yet lost their voice or who are still able to make rational decisions, we had better make sure that we have had a conversation with them to ensure that we understand their viewpoint well enough to advocate for them.

If we begin to advocate for someone without finding out what their heart beats for, we also run the risk of falsely representing them, their thoughts, and their opinions.  If we are advocates, we best be careful to be as aware and educated as possible.

I see two major implications for this.  The first is the fact that people can claim to advocate for a specific demographic or people group based upon a limited slice of the population that has been polled about their thoughts and opinions.  For instance, if we have only spoken to 2 or 3 people out of a possible 100 and then begin to advocate for that group based upon the opinions of these 2 or 3, we are making false claims in representing them.  We need to have a much wider viewpoint of that group than the one that we have with a measly 2 or 3% representation.

If we are high empathy people, we may find that in hearing a few voices, we begin to presume that if there are 2 or 3 that feel this way, then surely the rest of this group feels the same way.  In doing so, we can inject our own presumptions into what they want rather than really seeking out their desires.

This gives me pause to really think about whether or not I am fully aware of those for whom I advocate.  If I am not, I need to spend some more time getting down to the heart of who they are, what they think, how they feel, and what they want.  It's much easier to presume or even live out my own preferences vicariously through them.  It's much harder to engage with them and others to find a true representation of what they think.

The other implication that I see is this: as followers of Jesus Christ, we are called advocates and ambassadors in Scripture.  How are we representing and advocating for our Savior?  Are we truly representing Him or are we presuming that because we think and feel a certain way then that way must be the right way?  Are we seeking ways to find out the Father's heart in matters or do we simply go with our own preferences?

This is certainly convicting for me.  I want to make sure that I am being the best advocate that I can be, for my children, my family, my friends, and my Savior.  This requires time and it is my responsibility to find out what makes their hearts beat.  Looks like I know what I'm going to have to focus some more of my time on, how about you?

The End of All Things

I've been thinking a lot about seasons in life and the many transitions and changes that we go through.  There are a lot of things that have caused this, not the least of which is my father's failing health.  But it also includes things like buying our first minivan and today's joyful disposal of our highchair.

This highchair has made it through 3 kids.  I honestly can't remember when the first 2 transitioned out of the highchair, but it feels a little early to me with the third child.  Could be that I'm just having a hard time parting company with something that has been in our house for more than 6 years.  My wife, on the other hand, has wanted to pitch the thing since she started having to clean it all those years ago.  In her case, parting is sweet, but not sorrow.

This month, my baby will be 18 months old.  I won't say that time has flown because the last 18 months have hardly seemed to have flown by, but I'm not quite sure that it feels like that much time has passed either.  It is amazing what happens with a third child, somehow or another, it seems like certain milestones that seemed so important for the first one, or even two, get lost the third time around.  I can't even imagine having 6 kids.

But that's not the only parting this week.  We're going to be getting rid of one of our cars.  Now, in my nearly 40 years of life, I've gotten rid of a number of cars and they all had their fair share of memories, but none has felt like this.  I do remember coming home from college during my freshman year to find that my parents had gotten rid of my car without telling me about it.  I felt a bit betrayed.  I guess I had hoped that I could have had one last moment alone with the "old gal" to say my good-byes.  But alas, that never happened.

Nope, this car has been with us for just a little bit longer than my oldest son.  It's the first car we had as a family.  It made a number of trips back and forth from Asheville, North Carolina to Connecticut.  I remember the day we bought it and my parents giving us a little extra to put into the down payment.  It was the newest car that I had ever bought or owned.

Six years later, somehow or another, my wife has figured out a way to fit 3 carseats in the back without anyone's safety being jeopardized.  We've driven lots and lots of miles in the car, probably pushing 100,000 in those 6 years.  It's served us well and I will hate to see it go, it feels like saying good-bye to family.

The fact of the matter is that every good thing seems to come to an end.  We all experience change and transition in life.  As much as we would like to hold on to the old things, new things come and take their place.  Sometimes the old was much better, other times, the new far exceeds the old, either way, I don't know many people who have been able to seamlessly transition away from everything.  We are all creatures of habit and those habits die hard.

There's not a whole lot in this life that lasts or that remains unchanged.  From a theology perspective, we call God immutable, which means "unchanging."  So far, that's about the only constant I've been able to find, the only thing that remains the same despite all of the other changes and transitions that take place in life.  People come and go.  Cars die and are replaced.  Houses are sold and bought and sold.  In the midst of all of that, I have found God to be the one constant, unchanging stabilizer.

I know that we will all face change and transition.  We will all have to part with something in life, what will we have to hold onto when those things are gone?  What are we relying on for stability.

I'm reminded of 1 Peter 4:7-11, "The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray.  Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.  Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.  Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.  If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen."

525,600 Minutes

Sitting here at my computer reflecting on the past few weeks and can't help but thinking about the song "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent.  525,600 minutes, that's the number of minutes in a year.  Honestly, I'm having a hard time trying to measure 43,200 minutes, that's the number of minutes in a month.  So much has happened to me and around me that it's really hard to measure it all.

I spent the evening at a meeting for swim team for my oldest son.  We're contemplating the commitment to swim team and what that will mean for our family.  Having made some major moves as a church family towards a more missional approach towards life and ministry, I keep finding myself laughing at the humor of one of the greatest missional tools of all: children.

Children have a tendency of pulling their parents in a thousand different directions.  If the parents have any sense about them, they'll take advantage of the opportunities that come their way.  From a community and connection standpoint, I can't think of a better way to begin to understand and know your community than through your kids.  It's probably among the most natural approaches towards missional living.  It's pretty easy to cheer your kids on and meet people in the process.

Of course, this certainly doesn't preclude those without children or with older children from being involved, and I think that it can be just as natural.  Sometimes life has a tendency to favor the social extraverts though, leaving the introverts in the dust, waiting to find ways that work with their personalities.

I have found that intentionality is a big word in life.  How do I become intentional with my children?  Do I enjoy or try to enjoy the things that they like?  How do I become intentional with my neighbors?  Do I offer myself to them as a "good neighbor" or one who wants to keep to himself, or worse, one who only comes over when he needs something?  How do I become intentional in every area of my life?  How do I pay attention to all of the things that are happening around me?

525,600 minutes seems like a long time.  When you figure that you're sleeping for 153,300 of those minutes and working for another 175,200, that only leaves another 197,100 minutes left.  That's 9 hours a day left over.  What are you doing for those other 9 hours?  Hanging out on Facebook?  Playing "Words with Friends"?  Watching TV?  Playing video games?

I keep thinking about this intentionality with which I want to live my life.  I want to make a difference, but making a difference happens smaller and slower than most people think, with one step at a time.  I'm going for baby steps, making the most of each one.  Hope you can join me in doing the same.

Squeaky Wheels

"Squeaky wheels always get the grease."  How many times have I heard that phrase?  More than I can count, and many times, it's not always said in the most favorable light.  Squeaky wheels aren't always looked upon with favor but rather with disdain.  They can be loud, disruptive, annoying, and just generally unpleasant to be around.  While I hope it's not often and it's far from pleasurable to do so, I can be one of those squeaky wheels when I need to be.

I guess that a sign of age is that you begin to utter the phrases that you once heard your parents utter to which you yourself responded, "I hope that I never say that!"  Of course, in our youth and immaturity, we oftentimes find that the very utterances of our parents were much more wise than we ever gave them credit for and far more forged under the fires of experience than we ever expected.

Over the last few years, I have found that our world begs us, if not forces us, to be our own advocates.  There are few who will advocate for us, especially when it comes to healthcare, education, and financial services.  While I have met those who will be an advocate for me, more often than not, I need to be my own advocate, I need to be a squeaky wheel of sorts.

This certainly became apparent while my mom was going through her battle against cancer and has become even more apparent as my dad has made his own journey through declining health.  I've seen it with my own children and with the children of friends who don't quite fit in.  I've experienced it myself as I have had to keep tabs on my own progress through seminary as I, the renegade, chose to make the journey along a path less traveled with little guideposts along the way.

I was so thankful to have completed my seminary coursework 6 months earlier than anticipated.  This was especially monumental as I started the program off slower than my classmates.  I had made a decision that I would not spend more than 1 week away from my family even though the program required me to be gone for 2 weeks at a time.  When I knew that all would end well with my classes, I realized that I had but one last mountain to climb: my statement of faith.

I am a communicator.  I am a planner.  I am an arranger.  People joke about the color-coded spreadsheet that tracked my journey through seminary.  As much as they joke, there is no way that I would have been able to do what I did had I not so carefully tracked what I was doing, where I had been, where I was going, and what I needed to get there.  I started working towards my statement of faith about 6 months before I knew that it would be due.  I waited with anticipation for news of who would be tracking with me along this last leg of my journey.

As soon as the news came, I emailed those who would be overseeing the process to alert them that I wanted to fast-track the process.  While others would be taking a long journey through this last leg of the process, I wanted to get it done as fast as I possibly could.  My emails were met with no response, so I simply proceeded as if they were at least read.  First mistake.

Over and over throughout the process, I did my best to communicate to those who were overseeing this last leg and my progress through it, but I got no response.  I don't like to be ignored, was I being ignored or had my emails been misplaced?  Could so many emails get misplaced?

When my frustration finally hit a certain point, I called a friend who had been instrumental in me being in the program that I was in.  I explained the situation and she encouraged me to be a squeaky wheel.  I did what she told me and within a few days, not only had the process begun to move, but it went through such a fast-track that it was completed by the end of the week.

So what did I learn through all of this?  I learned that if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.  Don't give up.  It might seem like you are being ignored, it might seem as if no one is listening, but if what you say and what you need are as important as you think that they are, keep saying it and keep doing it until someone finally hears and acknowledges your voice.

I also learned about the importance of being a squeaky wheel.  Like I said, we need to be our own advocates, and that's exactly what I did.  There are times in life when we need to make ourselves known, to add some "squeak" to ourselves in order to be heard.  I guess it can be a good gauge for us to know whether or not we think that what we are trying to achieve is important enough.  If we feel that we are bothering people by advocating ourselves, perhaps what we are trying to achieve is not as important as we originally thought that it was.

As the years go by, I will find myself needing to be an advocate for myself and my family more and more, but I also need to be aware that there are others out there who have no advocates.  I need to listen and pay attention, hear the voices of those who are crying out and in need of advocacy.  It's easy to relegate assume that these people are only found in places of economic and social destitution, but having grown up in the suburbs, I know from experience that there are those within the suburbs as well who are desperately in need of advocates, of those who will take time to listen and stand up for them. 

Sometimes we need to stand up and be squeaky wheels for others.  Are we taking the time to listen and hear those who might need us to do just that?