Twenty-one years ago, I returned to Lawrence County after being away at college, unsure of what was next. I found myself in youth ministry, something I never expected to be doing. Ten years ago I founded Between the Crowd, a new ministry for the adolescents of my home county.
Through the years, thousands of students have passed through our programs. Some students are still struggling in life. Some are knocking it out of the park, and several are actually leading ministries of their own now.
Suicides were prevented… Addictions were challenged… New life was offered… A lot of students said yes to Jesus and some are still searching.
In the past twenty-one years, I have done my best to build a brighter tomorrow. I have spent myself to borrow from Sir Winston Churchill, in blood, toil, tears, and sweat. I have broken bones. I have had sleepless nights. I have sat in restaurants into the early hours listening to teenagers weep, and answered my phone in the middle of the night. On more than one occasion, I stood at the edge of burnout. In all this, Jesus has held me up and helped me focus on the task at hand, reaching young people with the gospel of Jesus.
To be honest, amid success, I have had my moments of failure. Students have needed me to show up, and I didn’t. Some needed a listening ear, and I talked over them. Others needed sympathy, and I offered judgement. In all cases, I hope people can see Jesus despite me. I am a flawed, growing human being who is trying to be better today than I was yesterday. It requires a lot of grace from Jesus and patience with myself and from the surrounding humanity.
All that said… It is time for a break, a long break! This summer, 2023, I am taking a sabbatical. There is Biblical precedent for this journey. Every seven years, the people of Israel were to rest and let the land rest. I’m going to take a rest and do some things that fill my soul and go on a couple of spiritual pilgrimages. That means I am trekking all over Europe. I want to visit the places C. S. Lewis taught, wrote, and sat. I want to walk where John Wesley walked. I want to kneel and pray where the Moravians launched a 100 year prayer meeting; then cry in the places where St. Francis of Assisi wept. I want to walk for days to let it all settle in my heart and mind. There is a lot of fun spread out in there as well. My aim is to give myself space to rest and recover from twenty-one years of an amazing rollercoaster—ministry.
I want to invite you into this process. Between the Crowd gives me a stipend and I will put my money into the adventure. I want to invite you to join me in making this adventure happen. I have set a goal for $5,000 raised. I consider anything above that goal a donation to Between the Crowd. If you can’t give, please take a minute and pray for me as I refresh and pray for Between the Crowd as we prepare for the next ten years.
Thank you in advance for whatever you choose to do! I am grateful for every student, parent, and volunteer that has crossed my path in the last twenty-one years.
Jamie’s foot came off the steps of the plane. She looked around, turned on her heels as she smiled and shouted to the rest of us, “WE’RE IN GREECE!”
The dry dusty hills around the Athenian airport welcomed us. Our first two days were wandering through the capital city. We sat at an outdoor cafe and a family meal of shared suvlaiki, Greek salads, pita bread, and feta dips that were magically savory and sweet at the same time.
Hours walking through one of the market districts and it was time to return to our hotel. Not quite ready for bed, we took the tiny elevators up to the Rooftop Bar. Every member of our group gasped and paused in the doorway. The Parthenon stood lit against the purple night sky, offering its own welcome to Greece.
After a restful night, we hit the pavement early with a city tour. It is hard to understand how ancient Athens and Greek culture really are until you walk the streets and realize that at every turn, there is a site of archeological interest. Even in the underground train station there is a cross section showing the layers of the city through the millennia, complete with a grave dating to 3500BCE.
We paused for the changing of the guard before hustling on to a stunning garden, then the march up the acropolis. Looking at the high point, the night before was staggering. Now we stood in the same place as Caesars, and countless worshipers of a religion that has passed into mythology. We even stood on the rock where the Apostle Paul defended his faith and pointed out the statue of the unknown god in Athens.
The Acropolis behind us, we made our way through the flower lined streets of the historic Plaka District. We stumbled into a family restaurant off one narrow street that was paved in marble several centuries ago. The food filled our tired bodies and opened gateways into friendship and family.
Parthenon, Athens, Greece
One more trip to the Rooftop, the acropolis looking different, one more “We’re in Greece” whispered among our newly formed troupe, one more sleep in our hotel, and one more amazing breakfast than we climbed onto the bus that took us to our home for the next seven days.We embarked on the Celestial Crystal cruise ship, a small ship for those overwhelmed by the idea of a Carnival cruise. With a passenger capacity under two-thousand even the most wary introvert can find space to recharge. We smiled and laughed together, launching from our first port, and we soon found our communal home sitting on the aft deck watching the ships’ screws churn the water from dark electric blue to minty teal. Still unsure if this was a dream or not, we recapped the highlights of our first days together.
The first day at sea brought us to the port of Thessaloniki, a modern city with a lively ocean front life, and rich history to rival Athens. We made our way out of the historic port and down to Aristotle Square. Grabbing the big toe of the statue to the great thinker, we hoped to gain some wisdom in the process. From the seaside, we turned toward the hills and walked to churches that reminded us America was still an infant. We visited a basilica built on the bath where an emperor had Saint Dimitrius martyred. After a long pause at the church, we entered a side street where the last remnants of tourism faded away and we found ourselves on long narrow stairways leading to the high points of the city. After a dozen sets of stairs, we found the monastery built on the site the Apostle Paul first preached to the Thessalonians in 51AD. The humble compound had a small zoo and offered sweeping views of the city and sea below.
Our party reveled in the march back to the port. We visited the White Tower and the statue of Alexander the Great before we joined the cafe life—sitting on the water sipping milk shakes and lattes like we were born for this. The sun sank behind the horizon and we dressed up a bit for dinner and the ship set a course for Turkey.
The sun rose in a new country and welcomed us to walk the largest archeological sites in Turkey. With Cuan (pronounced John) our guide, we started on the high streets of Ephesus and strolled through the gates of Hercules past the healing area. We paused at the doorway of the Library to stand in awe of the huge and beautiful structure that began its life as a mausoleum. Twenty minutes later, I stood in the center of the great amphitheaters stage. I read out Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and stood humbled by the magnitude of his work.
We climbed back on the bus and moved from one piece of Turkish history to another. Famous for their rugs, it seemed we didn’t really experience Turkey until we learned their fine art. They produce, by hand, some of the most beautiful rugs I have ever seen. The functional art works brought a tear to my eye. They threw rugs at our feet while we sipped apple tea. We danced in bare feet, staggered by the softness. Then they shared the magic of the rugs spinning them to make the color shift before our eyes. That night, visions of magic flying carpets, apple tea, and Turkish delight filled our dreams.
The ancient city of Rhodes was our next stop. The old walls still stand protecting the village, but they filled the village with beautiful shops and delightful restaurants. As soon as we disembarked from the ship, we grabbed a taxi to chauffer us to the feet of the Colossus of Rhodes, paused for a picture of the temple to Venus before we jumped back into the taxi. Then rode up to the acropolis of Rhodes for views that you need to sit down for. The taxi rolled down the pavement further, and we found ourselves at the pillars of the Patron god of Rhodes—Apollo. When we returned to the Old City, we made our way into some of the side passages in the walls around the fortress and castle, not knowing what adventures awaited us along the way.
In Rhodes, we embarked early so we could sail through the night to the tiny island of Crete. Our visit to Heraklion was short, but pleasant. Some climbed on buses and headed for the countryside to learn to dance, and a few of us stayed near the ship and walked along the docks to see where adventure might take us. Lunch on the ship and then to much anticipated Santorini.
Santorini was our first tender from ship to shore. We piled into the smaller ship and made our way across the submerged active volcano to the inner slope of the ring. Another bus and we were climbing the switchbacks to the rim where they built their cities. Buildings of bright white and brightly colored doors lined the narrow streets. We stepped aside to allow a group on horseback through. Down through the town to the bus waiting to take us to the famous city of Oia. If you buy a puzzle picturing Greece, it likely has the white walled, blue domed churches of Oia waiting to be put together. The most beautiful picture I took in Greece was in the narrow, tourist filled streets of this tiny village. Despite the world famous beauty of Oia, the most wonderful sight of the island was still ahead of us.
We had a final short bus ride until our bus broke down. The short ride became twice as long while we waited on the side of the road for a new bus to pick us up. The cool evening air and lovely countryside made the wait worthwhile. Without the delay, the sky would have still been bright and the wonder of the capital city of Fira lessened. With a broken-down bus, it was full dark when we reached the capital and entranced by white buildings with strings of warm glowing lights stretched between them. We were hungry, but the beauty that surrounded us was enough to quail the pains.
A mountain tram, which is a close cousin to the gondola ski lift, carried us back down to the port. From the tram we looked up at Fira and discovered the most stunning site in Greece—Santorini, at night. I am convinced the view of Fira, at night, from the sea, was Tolkiens’ inspiration for the white city of Minas Tirith. It was a beacon of light against the dark night sky above, and the black volcanic interior below. We returned to the ship and, for hours, sat on the aft deck chatting and staring up at the wonder.
The next sunrise was on the island of Mykonos and Mykonos Town. Some walked down the roads, some took the shuttle. I was determined to be in the Aegean.
I walked, took buses, and taxis, but finally found my way to a small secluded stretch of sand well away from the tourist zone. The sand didn’t belong to me alone, but there were far fewer people at Kapari than any of the organized beaches we passed. I walked from my towel into the sea and it welcomed me with cool, clear water. You could see the bottom even when I swam out to water 20 or more feet deep. Under the water you could see for meters in any direction. After a couple of hours swimming and enjoying the sun and the beach filled up, it was time to begin the journey back. A bus carried me back into town and I made my way through the narrow streets to get back to the ship.
A shower, nap, and change of clothes and I headed back out to explore the town I had only walked through earlier in the day. The streets, in places, were so narrow two people couldn’t walk shoulder to shoulder. The walkways and paths between buildings vibrated with life. People laughed and talked as they meandered the marbled trails. Turn a corner to head back to the bay and deep rhythms, and pulsing music filled your ears and life radiated from people dancing in clubs, on the streets, and in restaurants. All of this unassuming town emanated vitality and invited you to join in all that is life giving.
Our latest night out on the town ended with us again sitting on the aft end of the fifth deck. We laughed about our day and our varied adventures before we headed back to the cabins for our penultimate sleep.
Friday found us in port at Milos and ready to swim. We were off in search of beaches. Our first was not a traditional beach but the alien surface of Sarakiniko. This white stone beach felt like they pulled it from a sci-fi flick. The weirdness grew when we discovered the tunnels that were dug by the Nazis as an air defense at the end of World War Two.
We wandered in the tunnels and on the alien landscape for an hour, and then it was time to flee this abnormal spectacle and head to the more conventional Paleochori beach.
Two natural rock walls divided the seaside paradise into three sections. In the middle is the family friendly portion. To your right is the semi private area called Deep Blue, and to your left is where those that want to be one with nature go. No matter the section that calls to you, the water is the same—unbelievably clear blue. Above or below water, you could see far in any direction.
Between the family friendly portion of the beach and Deep Blue, there is a cave that cuts through the rock and sets you in a pool of water that is a volcanic vent. If you stand in one space too long, you are bound to burn your feet. It was worth the risk of seeing the little hidden treasure.
An exhausting two hours of swimming and it was time to return to the ship. We had one last sleep and while we rested, our Cruise-liner carried us back to our port of origin. From there we rode the bus to the airport where our united adventure around the Aegean sea became several individual journeys back to home. Delayed flights, rerouting, and a few lost bags, but everyone made it home with a story to share for a lifetime.
else has noticed, maybe I am better than average. In 20 years of ministry, I haven’t always been good at it. I have struggled with sleep and lost my appetite because I was wrestling with someone else’s problem.
I’m not sure that grappling with someone else’s struggle is the problem—after all, prayer is interceding for another person. The problem arises when we internalize another’s brokenness, and then it becomes our own.
The great predicament with internalizing another’s hurt is our incomplete perspective. We see a snippet of the burden of their life. We fill in the gaps for our friend based on the five minute or five hours they gave us in conversation. Minutes or hours is nothing compared to living with an affliction all day every day—so we decide what they must think or feel. We are not privileged to decide what other people think.
When you onboard someone else’s baggage, here are some things that are worth recognizing and practicing.
1. Admit, “I am not God nor should I try pretending to be.”
This seems obvious, yet it is the struggle of humanity since the beginning of time. If we aren’t trying to shape God in our own image, we are attempting just to be him. Years ago, I had to realize that I couldn’t fix people. I could hear them out. I could be present in a particular moment. Sometimes I could even offer some advice, but I could never fix the brokenness. A wounded heart is beyond our ability to heal, the best we can do is point to a loving God and allow Him to do a wonderful work in the lives of our loved ones.
2. Journal
We all started this practice in elementary school. In January of my fourth-grade year, I wrote about Desert Storm. It allowed me a space to process my emotional state without internalizing the angst or stress I felt as a little kid hearing about war and not understanding what it meant. It’s a discipline I have continued, in fits and starts, over the years. My journal is now more a place I go to pray or clear out the mental cobwebs so to think more clearly, and it provides space to get unhealthy thoughts out before they become lodged in my psyche.
3. Realize some don’t want to be fixed they want to be heard.
Sometimes in life when I was struggling, I just wanted to speak the issue out loud. I struggled to find a space where I thought I could, because everyone I knew wanted to fix things. There are times people want to be heard—not fixed. All you can do is ask. If they simply want to be heard, honor the desire, listen and move on. If you genuinely listen in those circumstances, you have done your part and you can sleep that night.
4. Recognize, “I can’t carry a burden that isn’t my own.”
As I said above, I can’t understand every facet of another person’s affliction, and so I can’t allow it to become mine. When we do onboard baggage, we marry it to our own thoughts and perspectives, creating an entirely new dilemma that exists nowhere but in our minds. That isn’t helpful to the other person or yourself. Seneca once said, “We suffer more in imagination than in reality.”
5. Pain and difficulty are not always bad things, it is good to struggle.
In our culture, we have become convinced that pain is an evil. It is not. Look at nature, she tells us that pain isn’t an evil but is, sometimes, a great good. If I want to become stronger than I must endure the pain of sore muscles. A person suffering from leprosy will tell you, “they wish they felt pain.” Study and learning fatigue our minds, and in that mental exhaustion we form new synapses. During childhood I was all over the place emotionally, as most of us are. From the struggle with emotions, I learned how to sort through feelings and understand what a healthy response is. In our striving we don’t need people to take on our problem, we need cheerleaders that have walked their own road of pain and know we can survive. I don’t need them to take the pain from me I need friends to remind me I can make it.
6. I train people not to lean only on me from the beginning.
Many will think this cold, but it’s the job of any adult in a young person’s life. I tell students from day one, “there will come a time you will forget me.” If I have played my role well, I have taught young people how to think, how to make decisions, and how to better the world through love and service. Occasionally over 20 year’s students come back around and we become close friends, but that’s not the point or the object. 2,000+ students passed through programs I led, there are a couple of dozen I still talk to regularly, I have no sense of failure. I did something right because they were all seeking advice as teenagers. When they come back around as an adult it’s because they want me to share in a significant celebration (marriage, birth of a child) or their life has gone off the rails and they need help to find the reset button.
7. Make the decision that their problems can’t become yours.
This feels simplistic and on the verge of insulting, but it’s a basic truth. You decide you will not allow someone else’s problem to become yours. It is a loving action. If I allow others’ problems to become mine, then I become burned out and tired and become unhelpful to anybody.
The greatest gift we can offer someone that’s dragging too much baggage around is to love them where they are, pray for them, and point them to Jesus who can help unload their burdens.
“I’d rather regret the things I’ve done than regret the things I haven’t done.”
– Lucille Ball
Before I begin I feel like there needs to be a caveat to Mrs. Ball’s words… I agree with her until it comes to questions of moral rectitude, one must not violate what they know to be right or wrong simply for the sake of experience. Yes, experience is a teacher, but she is a teacher that doesn’t care whether you live or die. Wisdom steps in and allows us to learn from those who have gone before if we will allow it, and from there we can launch into the deepest life we are capable of living. In the realm of the amoral, have fun!
It was late summer; the weather was hot and muggy, even by midwestern standards. Three friends and I hit the road to a hidden gem in the hills of Tennessee. It’s a moderate sized state park that is home to some beautiful waterfalls. It’s not just the water that strikes you either—the deciduous forest that fills the area gives you a feeling of closeness, much like I would guess Fangorn Forest gave to The Fellowship of the Ring (without the intimidation).
For us, the heat made our journey sweeter; we were in search of swimming holes.
On a previous trip to the same park, another friend and I had discovered a perfect and hidden hole. We had been following a stream bed and missed the entrance to the trail. We were running short on energy and water when we stumbled upon our little oasis. My friend jumped in first without hesitation, discovering it was deeper than we had realized. Our best guess, we were staring down at a pool that was nearly twelve feet deep during a dry season and the depth meant cooler waters. A couple of hours swimming fully rejuvenated us, and we were ready to find our way back to the missed trail. I hoped someday I might return to this secret place.
Now, on this blistering humid day, I had returned, and I was hoping I could lead my friends back. I had a rough idea where we to head, but as we lept from one boulder to another, and feet became miles I started to wonder… This is a living earth and things change, more often than we notice. I climbed one last boulder and was ready to call it quits and turn around. Looking down, I could see the flat limestone stream bed that surrounded the chasm. It was still a couple of hundred yards away, but I knew it was worth the effort.
We scrambled over the remaining boulders and stopped on the shelf that stood five or six feet above the surface of the water. My friends looked at me, the question etched across their faces, “it’s hot, is it deep enough to jump in?” “Go for it. I can jump in feet first and not hit the bottom,” I said. They dropped their packs, tossed their shirts, and one by one dove in. They were obviously enjoying the cool water when they looked up at me still standing above them. They asked, “Are you going to get in?” I said, “no” then walked over to a large rock in the shade and sat down.
Anyone who knows me and has traveled with me will tell you I have a point of tiredness that causes me to isolate and be a jerk—I’m not proud of it, and every time I travel I stave off the beast a bit better.
As I starred down at the water, I hit that wall, but I was boiling enough in the heat of the day that I could have overcome. A sense of self-consciousness also struck me between the eyes. I am athletic, though I am not an athlete; I lack the killer competitive instinct to be an athlete. My friends however are athletes and they were all a couple of months removed from a spring sports season and had already started prepping for fall. I had done nothing since winter, and in my mind’s eye that difference was apparent.
My emotional wall and disdain for my physical appearance combined to create the “no” that exited my lips. There have been a lot of moments in my life when I have said, “no.” Many of them good, some of them born out of frustration. This one though is among the few that still gnaws at me. It was still an amazing trip, and I got to give my friends an amazing memory, but there in lies the problem, I didn’t share the memory with them. I was there, but not really present. It was a no that came from a selfish place, and it robbed my friends and me of memories we could have shared.
I have forgiven myself repeatedly for that day and my friends don’t even remember it happening (I asked), but I still think back on that day and want to return and jump in with them and build the memories that should already exist.
Learning to say “no” is a substantial gift, but make sure it is a gift you wield well. Don’t let foolishness rob you of life.
Where are you God? In 2020, it’s an easy question for us to ask. A pandemic, racial tension unseen for decades, political unrest, and simple frustration with humanity. Unprecedented, we want normalcy, unlike anything we have seen before, words and phrases that have changed the way we talk about everyday life.
We feel abandoned. We feel lost and we aren’t sure exactly what to do. Our feelings may seem new and solely ours, but we are not the first to feel forgot. The Bible demonstrates the process of grace, rejection, exile, and finally restoration again.
Psalm 89 is a prayer given to the people of Israel. It’s there to remind the people of the faithfulness of God, even when He seems distant.
The 89th Psalm consists of four parts. First is the grace—the poet sings of the rule of God. They write of the greatness and wonder of the Kingdom. Then Ethan (the named creator of the work) reminds the reader of the promise God has made to Israel through the line of David. As the second movement in the Psalm closes, he reminds Israel of their rejection of God. Lament frames the third portion. He mourns the exile that awaits the nation of Israel. He weeps over the trials they face. This poem ends with the author returning to the beginning — “Praise be to the Lord forever! Amen and Amen.”
Some scholars think these words were penned after the nation of Israel had been in exile. The Psalm remembers and reminds them of the pain they endured and the restored hope during their wandering.
Though no one has driven us from our homeland, we feel the sense of loss that Israel understood. As we enter Thanksgiving, we feel all is lost. I remind you; is not. There is still beauty. The God of the first movement is still the God watching over our hurting world. He is still the God of love with His arms open, ready to receive back his people.
When we pause on Thursday to celebrate this awkward Thanksgiving, remember that it is only for a time. Exile isn’t forever—it is only a small piece of the cycle.
What do you do when it’s all different? How do you celebrate when fear reigns? How can we remember when traditions have to set aside for a year? What if this is the last time we all get to be together?
These are only a few of the questions we are wrestling with as we start this awkward Thanksgiving week. Officials are telling us not to travel, shamers are berating anyone even entertaining visiting family this holiday. It’s a great heaping mass of confusion. 2020 robs us of the one day a year we seem to say, as one, “Let’s be thankful,” right?
I don’t think so. In 1621, a group of Puritans celebrated one of the first Thanksgivings (there is a debate on the actual “first”). They celebrated because they had survived the harsh, dark, New England winter and had found a bountiful harvest. Everything was new for those first celebrators. Some would never see family or friends from the old world ever again. Many didn’t survive that first winter and weren’t there for the celebration. We shattered friendships and broke the trust with the indigenous First Nations People.
Those early celebrations had everything right and wrong. They had reasons to be grateful and reasons to mourn. They focused on the goodness—at least for a while.
In 2020 we may be closer to those first celebrations than any Thanksgiving in the intervening years. Our sense of loss and the distance from loved one’s weigh us down. We, the people, can become overwhelmed by the grayness that surrounds us or we can rise and fight to see the light of day. We can wrestle out the things we are thankful for in this year.
Thanksgiving is practice. It is more than a day of gluttony. It is the way we wake up. It is the way we see the day. It is the hope we cling to—that things can be better.
This year, togetherness is limited, but distance does not limit the gratitude we can carry for each other. Paul wrote to the church in Corinth a prayer we can echo today, “I always thank God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus (1 Corinthians 1:4).”
It may be an awkward Thanksgiving, but you can still pray thanksgiving over the family and friends in your life. You can still call and write and let them know you love and cherish them. This is a good chance to practice the habit of gratitude.
This question is part of a series, The Questions You Ask. I mean the responses to be short. If there is something you would like me to go more in depth on, please let me know.
How can somebody overcome crippling loneliness, despite having plenty of friends?
I saved this question for last, because it is the hardest to answer briefly and maybe the most important question asked during this season in human history. I got input from friends in the world of counseling.
First, we need to garner some understanding of where this pain comes from. There are multiple roots, but here are some questions to consider in self-examination.
Are you battling anxiety or depression?
Have you faced a trauma you have shoved down and leaves you feeling disassociated from loved ones?
Do you have friends you feel you can be gut level honest with?
Do you see yourself as someone worth knowing?
How do we respond to this pain? You may need to find some professional help, especially in the first two cases (I can point you in the right direction if you need to talk to someone). Beyond that, feelings of isolation and loneliness come from a negative place. God made us to live in a community. You need to change the story you are telling yourself. Start speaking and writing the things you are thankful for, look for ways to serve other people. Look at your thought patterns, are you living in the negative how can you interrupt that flow of self-talk. Lean more into developing a relationship with God who provides the highest value for you.
I went a little over the word count, but it needed to happen. I end with this quote from Mother Teresa, “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
This question is part of a series, The Questions You Ask. I mean the responses to be short. If there is something you would like me to go more in depth on, please let me know.
Today I am taking on two questions because they fit together too well to separate. That means the word count is a little higher but still meets the goal because I am under 500 words.
Why do you think you are helping the community?
My gut response when I read this question was, “We don’t.” I was in a moment of frustration and mad at a couple of people I work with, and that blocked my ability to think clearly. That’s why I waited to respond to this question.
I think we make a difference. It’s hard, though, to quantify the work that we do. William Bruce Cameron once said, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.”
I think this is true with any organization that works with people. We can give you numbers of involvement, but that doesn’t equate to difference made, that’s just the people involved. We may not know the impact we have had until way into the future, or maybe not even until the other side of resurrection.
So the most honest answer is, I think so and I hope so.
Is there any proof that you are helping the community?
As I mentioned above, it’s difficult to quantify the work we do in a meaningful way. Here are some numbers and a couple of pieces of anecdotal evidence…
During the 2019-2020 school year, we had over different 300 students involved in our weekly programs. Over 150 on a weekly basis. We had 2 dozen active volunteers. We took nearly 200 people on trips from Spring Break to Spring Break. Those are only the numbers we can track. We also substitute teach, coach sports, work with various committees and support and encourage many youth workers. The reach of our work is farther than we really understand.
Twice in the last 6 years I have met with students that were on the verge of suicide and we were able to assist them in finding the help they needed. One is now a graduate of Purdue and doing incredible work. The other is a member of the US Airforce and serving our country.
There are many other stories, but I limited my word count.
To answer both questions succinctly… I hope and believe. Maybe?
This post is from series I have been writing for myself called, Truth, Beauty, or Goodness.
We slept on air mattresses on the floor of a church the night before the big launch. When we got up the air was verging on cold and was crisp. We drove the last hour to our starting point, pulled the bikes from the truck and began to turn the cranks. Over the course of the next three days, the pedals would roll over enough to cover 150 miles.
I have heard that many philosophers didn’t like trains when they first appeared because they moved too fast. The world has turned over many times since trains were first introduced and we have only gotten faster. In the hours we spent in the saddles of our bikes covering dozens of miles, we could have traveled hundreds in a car.
Instead, we paused and joined the thinkers of the past. We slowed our pace and saw the world from a closer point of view. It allowed us to join the effort of the earth’s existence. We found a new rhythm in our breathing. We discovered the honesty of laughter born from mutual suffering. The heart of those hours was the discovery of people and the stories they offer.
It was in the saddle a bike, legs pushed to their limit, mind worn from the effort, constant hunger from the calorie deficit, I was reminded of the depth of humanity. We are a single people struggling together, hoping for a pause in our suffering, yet finding joy in the common. The best we can do is reach out and offer what strength we have to help pull along old and new friends alike.
It’s time for the second half of my list of people I find interesting and would like to meet. Again, these are not ordered. They were randomly assembled and written in that order; I didn’t even bother alphabetizing them. The only rules for my list are the people must still be alive, so there is a chance for me to meet them. As of writing all of these people are still with us. Like part 1 I expect there will be a few, of which, most readers have never heard.
Here’s a quick review of Part 1 – Isaquis Queivoz Dos Santos, Ellen DeGeneres, Malcolm Gladwell, Eminem, Jerry Seinfeld, N.T. Wright, Al Sharpton, Allison Fisher, Anne Lamott, and Questlove.
In the second half of this post let’s start with someone everyone knows and everyone wants to meet…
Betty White – She is 98 years old and still makes people laugh. I first knew of Betty through, The Golden Girls (her TV career started in the 30s). I would laugh at the delightful, naïve, innocent Rose. Years later she made a guest appearance on one of my favorite shows, Community. As we learned in the first half, I have soft-spot for people that make me laugh.
Chris Rock – Chris is an amazing performer… He has the special gift of helping us see deeply serious issues in a way that makes us believe we can be better as people. He makes us laugh and recognize how flawed we are as humans while we laugh. I don’t connect with all his humor, but that’s fine by me, I can hear and sense the passion behind it. The passion is what makes Chris Rock most interesting to me.
Mike Pilavachi – Until a little over a year before writing this, I had never heard of Mike Pilavachi. Then a friend sent me a link to a livestream of a conference where Mike was speaking. As Mike wrapped up his sermon he invited the audience to be quiet and asked the band not to play — he wanted stillness. Then Mr. Pilavachi said one of the most profound things I have ever heard. (This is a bit of a paraphrase…) “We are going to sit and wait for God to show up and meet with us. Why wouldn’t He want to meet with us?” It was the second half that grabbed me. Why wouldn’t He want to meet with us? It’s so true. God loves us, He will show up. Soon after I read one of Mike’s books and, as I finished the last page, I knew I had to meet Mike Pilavachi. I want to ask a simple question… Will you tell me about Jesus?
Alex Honnald– Alex is a big deal right now. The movie about his ascent of El Capitan, Free Solo, was huge hit. He’s been on the cover of countless magazines and lots of TV interviews. It’s not the celebrity I want to meet though. I want to sit with the guy that lives as a dirtbag, in and out of a van to make the early morning climbs. I want to hear from the man that climbed dozens of walls to celebrate his birthday. Then I want to talk about fear. Alex doesn’t process fear like most of us do. I want to hear what it’s like to stand at the edge of death and look at it with calm.
Desmond Tutu – Serving as the Anglican Bishop of Johannesburg and Archbishop of Cape Town make him interesting enough. His tireless work for the people of South Africa, his willingness to endure extreme criticism from everyone, and, above all else, his work to end apartheid add layers of character to this gentleman. However, it was a story I hear about Bishop Tutu that was most intriguing to me. I don’t really know if it was legend or truth, but the tale says he stood down a tank to end violent conflict among those he considered his people. That is a gentleness that could overwhelm the world.
Brené Brown – If you have read anything about leadership, emotional development, vulnerability, being in community, learning from failure, and a host of other areas, then you have at least seen the name of Dr. Brown. She is a brilliant mind that humanity can learn a lot from. Her book, Daring Greatly, was impactful for me. I have often quoted her work on vulnerability and our need to share life. The world could use a reset guided in part by some of her thoughts.
Rob Bell – Several years ago Rob fell out of acceptability with the conservative church. The response was understandable but more reactive than loving. It was such an intense response some would question my including him on this list, since I am more theologically conservative. I still think Rob is an interesting person who has value and I would love to meet him someday and talk with him. Most interesting to me, though, is his ability as a communicator. Rob is an engaging speaker and accessible writer. That has been part of his success even after he became an “exile.” He connects with people… Him standing on stage and us out in the audience, it feels like he is talking to each individual not the masses. That is a special gift.
Lewis Hamilton – It was just a few years ago when I started paying attention to F1 racing. I needed a team and a driver to give my fandom to. There was a new team entering the mix and they had a young driver that was showing some promise. I went for it and decided I would be a Mercedes fan. Turned out I picked a winner. Within a couple of years they would become the powerhouse team on the F1 circuit, led by an amazing young driver, Mr. Lewis Hamilton. A few short seasons later, he was quickly rising to become one of the greatest drivers of all time. He has the second highest all-time wins record behind the legend Michael Schumacher (84, 91 respectively). At 35 years old he still has plenty of time to race.
Frank Zane – Mr. Zane is not a tall man, but he did stand as a giant on top of the mountain we call Mr. Olympia. He was crowned best in the world, among the best in history, three times. Frank has been nominated several times by multiple organizations as having the greatest physique ever. He had a build that I only dream of having (and in his 70s probably is still built better than I am). Not only was Mr. Zane a tremendous bodybuilder, he’s smart and nice, too. He has a degree in Chemistry, which he taught for several years, and a masters in experimental psychology. In the handful of emails I have exchanged with him, he has always been encouraging and helpful.
Richard Branson – Mr. Branson is last on my list (again there is no order to the list, everyone is randomly placed) but certainly not least. Richard Branson is probably at the top of most list of interesting people to meet. He’s not your typical rich guy. He doesn’t like to wear suits. He doesn’t like to stay in one place for long and he’ll give things a go when no one else will. It’s not just that he is a rich guy either, he is an adventurer, family man, humanitarian, advocate for addicts, and philanthropist. He travels the globe challenging himself to live deeper and he thrills in bringing others into the journey with him. Do you need more than that to be worth meeting?
As I close this two part series, who are the people you would like to meet. Are there any on my list you had not thought of but know you are?
