Here’s a thought.

You will be most tempted to quit moments before the critical breakthrough

I don’t know whether this is true…but, personally and more broadly, I believe it’s often true.

Think about it:

Tenure. The average tenure in of lead pastors is 3-5 years.  For a student pastor, it’s 12-24 months.  What if we’re quitting before anything significant happens?  While I’ve served in two congregations, I’ve essentially served the same community for 15 years.  I still feel like our best days are ahead of us.  How can you really get to know people in 3 years, or 3 months?  How can you build trust?  How can you generate a movement?  (I know Jesus did, but he prepared for 30 years first.  And none of the rest of us are Jesus, actually).

Projects.  I’m a bit ADD, but I think I’m tempted to quit before the best idea emerges.  I can settle too early.  Or I can abandon ideas as unfruitful before I really mine their potential.  My best expression of a series or message often happens after I’ve written and rewritten the text and find myself verbally explaining what I mean to our service programming team and suddenly discover that I said it better out loud than I did in hours of writing about it.  If I didn’t walk it into the final meeting, it may never have reached it’s best expression.

Directions. When I’m not sure where I’m going (or am convinced the GPS is wrong), I am often tempted to turn around exactly one block before we reach our intended destination.  This is so true I think I must be telepathic, or telepathetic.

Biblically.  Just face it.  If you were Noah, Joseph, Daniel, Paul or any other biblical character, you would have concluded God had abandoned you long before your greatest moments arrived.  Who wants to build an ark for years, stay in prison, get fed to lions or wait in exile 14 years after conversion?  Exactly.  Most of us would have bailed on God long before any of that was over.

I want be there for the break through.  How about you?

People get hired and promoted on talent, potential, track record, and competency.  The culture and marketplace reward competence when they see it, and arguably they should.

But I don’t think competency alone will keep you there.

The roadside is littered with the bodies of people who were great at what they did but neglected who they were.  Pro sports, the church, Hollywood and Wall Street have witnessed so many incredibly gifted people who fell because of drugs, affairs, theft, embezzlement, inability to get along with co-workers or team mates or personal demons they just couldn’t beat.  From Lindsay Lohan to Ted Haggard to Terrell Owens to Bernie Madoff, it’s pretty clear competence alone isn’t enough.

Here’s what I increasingly believe.  Competency starts something that only character can finish.

And here’s the tension:  I sometimes think the key to my future development is competency.  I just want to get better at what I do.  I want to lead better, preach better, communicate more effectively, motivate teams at a higher level.  And all of that’s good.

But one slip up in character could undermine it all.  One bad move…one momentary indiscretion, one systemic compromise could undo what all the competency in the world created.  Just ask Tiger Woods.  Your capacity can only take you as far as your character can sustain you.

So the question is this:  what are you doing to develop your character?  What are you doing to nurture your heart, soul and integrity?  That’s what will sustain your gift in the long run.

Here are three things that have helped me:

• The discipline to keep a close personal walk with God.  When it’s on, I’m on.
• Constant input and feedback from wise counsel.  From our elders to close friends to colleagues to my wife to our leadership team, I have people around me who are always building into me personally.
• Fearing the consequences of messing up.  I think about the impact on my wife, my kids, our staff, Connexus and other friends in ministry and I remind myself how high the cost is, and how low the benefit would be if I ever caved.

How about you?  What keeps your character in line?  How are you building it?

Character finishes what competency starts.

There are advantages and disadvantages to getting older.  But these days I think the advantages more than win the day.  Things become clearer.  Insight sharpens.  And as friendships deepen and networks expand, you learn so much.  I love that.

This is the second part of a series sharing some random truths that I learned or that resonated deeply in 2010.

• Leaders who thrive in the long run experience life in all of its disappointment but choose to re-engage their hearts, minds and spirits anyway. I used to think leaders thrived over the long haul because they didn’t have the same struggles or temptations other people do. I no longer believe that…believe they thrive because they are committed to rebuilding trust, relationship and hope again and again – as often as necessary, especially when it hurts.  It’s also a profound way to strengthen your trust in God.

• There is no greatness without suffering. My friend Robert Singh shared this observation with me a while ago.  I’ve tried to think of an exception again and again.  I can’t think of a single hero I admire biblically or in life who didn’t overcome adversity and suffering before being considered ‘great.’  Can you?  Christ is the supreme example.  So if you’ve ever asked God to use you to do great things….

• Our disappointment with who we’re not can sabotage our potential to be who we are. I love being online and networked in ways we couldn’t dream of 15 years ago, but the shadow side is we’ve created a celebrity culture among ministry leaders.  We can and do listen to our ‘heros”.  And we can end up being bummed that God didn’t make us more like them.  That’s a mistake.  God will only hold me accountable for not being the person he created me to be.  He will never hold me accountable for not being more like someone I admire.  And this afflicts more than pastors.  If church attenders are negatively comparing their preacher and leaders to others they follow to and admire, we’ll never realize who we can be because we’re focused on who we’re not.

These insights are helping me live and lead differently.  In what ways, if any, do these learnings help you?

What would you add to this?  What have you learned?

I’d love to hear what some of your key insights for 2010 were.  Here’s a random sharing of some of the best learnings I’ve had in 2010:

• What people get involved in becomes the mission. My friend Fred Stewart shared this with me in the spring as we were reviewing a talk I was doing. It resonated so deeply. It’s why people leave your church when their favourite program shuts down.  They’ve lost their place.  They’ve misconstrued the mission.  It made my commitment to a simple model of church even stronger. If people only get involved in things that are core to the mission, then you end up with a much greater chance of seeing a missionally aligned community.

• You have less time than you think, but more influence that you realize. We sent my oldest son off to college in September.  To say it flew is an understatement.  Obviously our relationship is still influential – even critical in his life and ours.  And despite all my miscues as a parent, my 18 years of shaping him and influencing him at home is complete.  For better or worse, we’ve shaped him.  I had less time than I thought, and more influence than I realized.

• There is a world of difference in trusting God for something, and simply trusting God. I know that’s not new, but it really hit home this year.  In fact, I’m preaching a series around it in spring 2011 called “Three Letter Word”.  The three letter word?  ”For”.  If I could stop trusting God for things and simply trust God, where would my relationship with God be?  I’m anxious to find out.

I’ll share some more tomorrow.

What did you learn this year that stuck with you?  What are you learning about the things I’ve shared above?

I love social media. I love life online.  But I’m worried about what it might be doing the souls of some leaders.

Does closely following the lives of other leaders threaten to erode the unique footprint of your leadership?

Let me explain.  Fifteen years ago, most of us couldn’t closely track other leaders.  If you wanted to know about a leader, you had to buy a book or attend a conference.  You might get to their website on a good day when the dial up connection was strong.

Now, through Facebook, Twitter, podcasts and blogs you can follow anyone you want to and everyone you want to and know pretty much anything you want to about them.  So many of us follow dozens, hundred or thousands of leaders: from Erwin McManus to Andy Stanley to Reggie Joiner to Donald Miller to Perry Noble and more.  We do it because we admire them and appreciate them. That in itself isn’t a problem.

The problem shows up here: It’s hard not to imitate the people we admire.  But how much energy do we squander as leaders trying to imitate someone we will never be?

How many leaders mismanage time and energy trying too hard to imitate the communication of Andy Stanley, the creativity of Erwin McManus, the innovation of Reggie Joiner or the poignancy of Donald Miller when they should be developing their own gifts, loving their own people and working hard at building the ministry God has given them?

In all likelihood, the people you admire most never set out in life trying to be someone else.  They made a mark by developing the gifting God gave them.

Don’t get me wrong: I love learning from the best of the best (and I track with lots of people).  But healthy learning encourages us to get better at what we’re doing.  Unhealthy imitation makes us wish we were doing what they’re doing.  It can also lead to a cascade of negative thoughts like “How come I can’t communicate like _________?  Why can’t I be as clever as _________?”   Just enough for the enemy to squander potential.

God will never ask me or you why we weren’t more like Andy Stanley.  He won’t ask us why we didn’t write more like Donald Miller or have as many brilliant ideas as my good friend Reggie Joiner.  Here’s the question God might ask us:  why didn’t you develop more of the unique gifting and talents I gave you? After all, God will never hold you accountable for something he never gave you.

Do your social media habit feed an unhealthy desire to be someone God never created us to be?  What would happen if you diverted half the attention you give to others into asking God what he would love for you to do? What are some other pitfalls you see of social media and instant access to people we admire?

Apologies are difficult.  Those of us who have been given even a tiny bit of authority are often reluctant to apologize to those we work with. Isn’t apologizing a sign of weakness?  Won’t people see through you?  Aren’t leaders supposed to have all the answers, to always be right?   Well no, but we feel that pressure anyway.

The problem is that those of us who are in charge have an advantage: we (usually correctly) suspect the person under our authority will be hesitant to correct us, challenge us or confront us.  We could fire them, hold it against them and, well, we’re the boss and they’re not.

Don’t be that way.  Just don’t.  All of us have worked for someone at some point who stole our ideas, took the credit, made poor calls and refused to accept the responsibility, and who – even when it was clearly due – would never apologize.  I don’t want to be that guy.  And I don’t want to work for that guy.  Nor does anyone.

Case in point:  today at our weekly staff meeting I apologized to someone who reports to me.  At Connexus we produce ‘title packages’ for our series.  The title package for the current series arrived a bit later than we’re used to, and quick final view left me unsatisfied.  At the time, I said I thought the video package lacked punch…it didn’t make the point we were hoping to make. I loved the basic design and concept…just wasn’t sure it told the story we wanted it to tell.  Our Service Progamming Director,  Justin, who is a year into his job, recently out of college and who designed the package, liked it the way it was.  I trusted my judgment on this one, not his.  But we didn’t have time to remake it and we ran it as is.

Turns out…I was dead wrong.  He was right on in his judgment.

We ran it ‘as is’ and I’m so glad we did.  In almost three years of weekend services, it is the only time I’ve ever heard people respond to a title package.  They loved it.  They laughed out loud, started conversations with friends next to them and buzzed about it after the service. It just worked.  (Check it out for yourself here.)  He called it.  I missed it. And I was wrong.

As a leader, I had a choice.  I could have pretended it was my idea all along, (nah, that’s not me).  But I could have ignored it…pretended it didn’t happen.  Or pulled him aside private and apologized.  But since I had said I didn’t like it when others were present, I felt I needed to apologize when those same people (and in this case, more) were present.  So I did…I told our staff how off my judgment was and what a great call he made on it.  I apologized for getting in the way of a great decision.  It’s pretty kindergarten if you think about it, but it actually doesn’t happen enough in leadership.

It should though.  The more freely we apologize as leaders when we’re wrong, the more we:

• Give permission to release the best ideas in the organization (they usually aren’t the bosses’ anyway)
• Create a culture where people can apologize and forgive freely
• Foster trust
• Prevent the need for the people under us to “vent” to others
• Remind ourselves that we are hardly the smartest, best or brightest people in our organization

Leaders:  what have you learned about apologizing?   And for all of us, what are some of your worst/best moments when it comes to apologies? 

As leaders, it often feels like we’re asking people to give us something.  Time. Energy. Money. Ideas. And so much more.

Years ago I heard Andy Stanley say that before we ask something from people in terms of giving, we should do something for them.  I’ve never forgotten that, and it’s a shift in perspective that’s starting to invade so much of my thinking.

You can spend your life trying to get something from your kids, from your spouse, from your friends, from your faith, from your family, from your employees, from your volunteers, from your community, from your congregation.  But what are you doing for them?  What if you cared more about wanting something for them than wanting something from them?  See the shift?  I think it’s huge.

A great example came a few weeks ago from friends who are in real estate.  We’re on their mailing list, but instead of the typical “please use us and please give us business”, they instead sent a newsletter full of helpful tips on credit rating management.  They didn’t ask anything of their customer base.  They did something for us.  They added value.  They really want to see their clients and friends manage their money well, so they sent out practical tips.  With no expectation of anything in return.  And of course, that made me appreciate and respect them even more.

There are multiple ways this idea is impacting me:

• As a boss, I’m thinking far less less about what I can get from my co-workers and far more about what I can do for them.  Sometimes it’s material (how about some Starbucks?), but often it’s less tangible than that.  I just want them to be better off for because we worked together.  I’m looking for ways to help them professionally and personally.  I want to do as much to add value to our time together as I can. Whether it’s sharing insights, encouraging them in their personal journey, praying for them or offering some of my time to help them with their responsibilities.  It’s getting to the point where I don’t think they work for me; I think I work for them.

• As a friend, husband and father, life shows me again and again the best thing I can do in a relationship is to bring something to it, not simply try to get something out of it.  In fact, the more I try to get something out of it, the less healthy it becomes.  The more I give, ironically, the richer and more rewarding the relationship becomes.

• When leading any group that “follows” you (whether it’s a congregation, a crowd or even your Twitter/Facebook friends), the more you can do for them, the better it gets.  Share freely…point to the work of others…celebrate other people’s victories…mourn when they mourn.

This may not be news for you, but just being honest, many leaders are inherently selfish.  Maturity involves crawling out of that skin and putting on another one.

None of this should be a surprise because this is actually how God operates.  He didn’t really come to be served, but to serve.  And as much as God asks us for things from us, underneath that is a much deeper desire he has to see something positive happen for us.    It also shouldn’t be a surprise because some of the most draining people in our lives are the people who always want something from us and rarely do anything for us.

What are you learning in this area?  What are some of the best ways you’ve discovered to want something for others and to do something for others?

At some point this week, this month or this year, something good will come your way.  A promotion, an opportunity, an advancement, a raise, a new relationship, a new level of ‘success’.

What if every time something like that happened, you were to say to yourself: this is a trust.

Not “I deserved it”.  Not “I’ve always wanted this.”  Not “all that hard work finally paid off.”  Not “finally, I’m getting what’s coming to me.” Not even “wow this is cool” (okay, you can say that…just don’t stop there.)

What if instead, we just started saying “This is a trust.  I know he didn’t just give it to me for my benefit, he entrusted me with.  It’s a trust.”

What’s at stake is whether we believe that life and opportunities are about God, or whether we believe they are about us.  Our culture says they are about us.  But the scripture would say something different.

If you live like everything that comes your way is directed your way mainly for your benefit, you believe:

• This has come to me mostly for my benefit and the benefit of my family.
• I can use it any way I want.
• It doesn’t matter how I use it, because it’s mine.

If you view things as a trust, you believe:

• God likely didn’t give this to me solely for my benefit.
• I need to use it in the way that best honors God and others.
• It matters how I use it, because it’s not mine and I’m accountable.

I want to get into the habit of viewing all good things that come my way – every opportunity, reward, relationship, ability, advancement and gift – as a sacred trust.

How about you?  What do you believe about the good that comes your way?  How do you process it?  What helps you think this through?