This past weekend at Connexus we told a story in our message about inviting friends that will likely stick with me the rest of my life.

In the video Jessie, a woman in her early twenties who attends one of our campuses, explains how she and her husband Russ invited a friend who didn’t go to church to come with them.  The story is worth watching and it’s near the end of the message called “Invite”.  You can watch it here on our website or get the video podcast on iTunes.

Jessie and Russ’ invitation led to their friends inviting some friends, who invited a friend, who in turn invited friends.  That single invitation just a year or two later has resulted in 12 formerly unchurched people now attending church, and the process, and some have surrendered their lives to Christ.  Powerful.

But the line that stuck out with me was when Jessie simply said “30 seconds of you being uncomfortable could change someone’s eternity.”

I think she nailed it.  One of the main reasons we don’t invite people into a something that can change their lives is our personal discomfort.  And we she named that, I realized I have to get so much more uncomfortable if I want to make a difference.

I’m going to get uncomfortable in the next few weeks and extend some invitations.

But I won’t stop there.

How much transformation have you put off because you fear a little bit of discomfort?

If you were to spend some time getting over 30 seconds of discomfort five times today, what would happen?

You might:

• pick up the phone and apologize, mending a friendship.
• talk through a tough issue, slaying the elephant in the room that’s been lingering for months.
• actually do the most important work you could do today, pushing past your procrastination.
• not spend the money you were going to, and pay down some debt instead.
• invite that friend you’ve been praying for to church
• go for a run…the one you’ve put off for a day/month/week/decade.
• read to the end of the chapter of the bible you’re in…and let God speak to you
• put away the ice cream and drop a pound in the next week.

30 seconds of you being uncomfortable could change someone’s eternity.  So so true!

It might even change much more.

Why don’t you spend some time being uncomfortable today?

I was at the mall last night. There were a grand total of 100 people in it. And apparently I knew a quarter of them. Or maybe more accurately, they knew me. I didn’t recognize most of the people who said hi to me last night, although more than a few called me by name. I couldn’t reciprocate.

Gulp. I’m a pastor. Aren’t we supposed to care about everyone we meet?

We are. But we’re also human — my memory just isn’t that good. Those exchanges can be, well, so awkward.

Here’s the issue: I’ve simply met thousands of people over the years. I believe my memory bank hold about 2000 names. Then it starts auto-deleting. Or it scrambles names and faces. Or it just freezes.

People always say I have a great memory for names, but I’m not sure that’s really that true. I’ve forgotten far more names than I’ve remembered. And unlike many people, I can’t claim I never forget a face. I totally forget faces. If I saw them in a police line up, I would swear I never met them before, only to learn later that they attended our church for two years. Or they’re my third cousin.

This isn’t just a ministry thing. I’m sure retail workers face it. So do physicians and lawyers. Almost anyone with a public interface deals with it. And in church world, dark theaters, multiple services, multiple campuses and 16 years of ministry in one area makes it a recurring phenomenon.

What do you do? I’ve learned a few things I’d love to share and would love to hear how you handle it.

Let’s start with some bad strategies:

1. Ask them directly for their names. This worked at first, but I soon found myself asking the same person five times. I know because they started telling me this was the fifth round of me asking their names. Cue crawling under a rock.

2. Ask them how to spell their name. I would say something like “Oh, and remind me how to spell your name again?” Once you hear them say “Joe” “J-O-E”, you realize the strategy has its limits.

3. Substitute a word for a name. “Buddy”, Hey You” or “Hey Man” gets old fast. Plus, what do you say to a woman? Dude doesn’t quite make the cut. It doesn’t take long for people to sense you’re clueless.

So what works? Love to hear what you’ve learned, but here’s what’s helped me:

1. Make the exchange about them, not your discomfort. I found that I would hit panic mode when I couldn’t remember someone’s name, and I would ruin or taint our conversation because all I could think about was that I didn’t know their name. I’ve learned to relax, realize that running into people whose name I can’t remember is actually normal, and just listen to them. It makes for a much better exchange. Strangely, my fear and panic ended up being selfish and made the moment awkward for everyone. I can care about them whether I remember their name or not.

2. Try a ‘side’ introduction. If I realize this is someone I should get to know better but can’t recall their name, I look for someone I know nearby. I make an introduction. “Have you met my wife Toni?” At that point I shut up. Toni (or my assistant or a friend or staff member) naturally extends a hand with “Hi, I’m ______” and the nameless person responds with “Great to meet you. I”m __________”. Works almost all the time and no one feels awkward. You just have to listen carefully so you remember their names this time.

3. Ask someone nearby. If I can’t use the introduction tactic but I want to know the person’s name, and there are people I know well nearby, here’s what I do. I finish the name-less conversation and pull up to a friend nearby. I quietly ask them whether they might know the name of the person I was talking to. I do this as the person I was speaking with is still in sight so they can see who I was speaking with. Works some of the time. And if they don’t know, they’ll often hunt down someone who does.

4. Ask, once you are deep in conversation. If this is someone I know I am going to track with moving forward, and none of the above strategies will work, I usually just come clean. I’ll say “You know, I’ve loved this conversation and I really want to track with you moving forward, but I’m embarrassed to say your name has slipped my mind.” Usually by that point we’ve had such a good conversation that they are really happy to share it. I only do this if I am going to track with the person moving forward. Otherwise, it was just a healthy, nameless conversation. That actually still has value.

So that’s my little awkwardness-reduction primer. What have you learned?

Short of keeping a stack of name tags and a Sharpie in your pocket wherever you go, how do you tackle this?

For years I’ve kept a file I simply call “encouragement”.

Back in the day it used to be an old school filing cabinet file folder.  Now it’s a a gmail folder.  One day it will be something else.  It matters far less how it’s done than it does that I do it.

The rule is simple. Every time someone sends me something that encourages me (an email, a blog comment, a DM, a card, a note), I put it in that file.   Often it’s a thank you for something I said or did, a short message of encouragement, and sometimes it’s a life-change story (love those!).

Here’s why I keep it (hang on, my reasoning is complicated): I get discouraged.

That’s it.  I just get discouraged.

The one email of complaint out of 99 ordinary emails gets to me.  The one “that message didn’t really connect with me” deflates me faster than a bullet through a balloon.  The “he’s such a great speaker…oh, and we appreciate you too” gets to me.  So does the “why do you….[fill in the blank]?” and the “I can’t believe you….“.  Sometimes it doesn’t even take a comment from anyone.  I can discourage myself in no time flat.

Now just to put this in perspective, I get at least a 10:1 positive stream coming my way.  Actually it’s probably something more like 100:1 or even 1000:1.  I know my skin should be thicker.  I know I shouldn’t be so sensitive. And I’m getting better at it, but that stuff still gets me.

As I’m sure, it does you.

I keep the file because I want it to be there fore me on the days I get discouraged and even think about throwing in the towel.

I only end up going into the encouragement file once or twice a year at the most.  Sometimes I just look at it and realize there are 20 new notes from the last month, and that alone is enough.

I just need to be reminded that God has a reason for me doing this, and that the good outweighs the bad. I am convinced that one of the leading factors in the lackluster state of the church and in many areas of life is that people quit long before they break through because the discouragement got to them.

So I keep an encouragement file.

What do you do to get you through your bad days?

I did something this morning I haven’t done before in my life:  I went on a five km winter run.  I’ve run before, but never outside in winter with the temperature below zero.

It’s not that I couldn’t do it before, it’s just that I didn’t.

And that reveals a tension: the tension between can’t and don’t.  There are actually very few things you can’t do.  It’s mostly just that you don’t do them.

Be honest: how many things in your life are there (really) that you can’t do?  Exactly.  Very few.  It’s not that you can’t.  It’s just that you don’t.

And if you admit that, you might begin to do far more.

Once you do that, your dreams might be far more attainable than you think.

Earlier this week we looked at five signs that show you lack integrity. It’s one thing to know you might lack it in certain areas, but the question is how do you build integrity? How do you develop it?

Integrity is about more than just doing the right thing, It’s about buidling the kind of character that can survive a crisis intact. In the same way a building that has integrity can survive a storm, a life that has integrity can do the same.

So how do you build integrity?

1. Be ruthlessly honest with yourself. Of all the lies we tell, the ones we tell ourselves are the most deadly. Question your motives. Stop justifying what you know to be wrong. Stop excusing yourself.

2. Seek wise counsel. We all have blind spots. It’s one thing to be honest with yourself, but sometimes you and I are just blind to faults others can see. Find three or four people who believe in you and ask them for feedback on your life.

3. Decide to honour God, not please people. Doing the right thing is almost never the easy thing, and sometimes it’s not the popular thing. Honouring God is not the same as believing you are always right and everyone else is wrong – it simply means you are going to live with a long view of what to do, informed by scripture. It means enduring short term pain for longer term gain. To avoid becoming arrogant or deluded, make sure you test what obedience looks like for you not only against scripture and prayer, but also with your circle of wise counsel (see above). They will see things you can’t see.

4. Be appropriately transparent. We’d all like to be something we’re not. Admit your shortcomings. You don’t have to tell everyone what you’re struggling with, but you need to tell someone. Part of being honest with yourself is being honest with others. And as much as you might be afraid that everyone will think less of you, living transparently and not pretending to be someone you aren’t actually makes people think more of you. It’s counter-intuitive. It’s also transformative.

5. Put yourself first when it comes to personal growth. I know that sounds selfish, even unbibilical, but I’m not sure it is. Jesus prepared for thirty years before ministering for three. And during those three years he often disappeared to pray. You can only give what you’ve got. And he spent whole seasons of his life receiving from God what he needed to give to the world. Cancel some appointments. Tell the kids to wait. You need to build a solid spiritual, emotional and relational foundation for your life. Pray. Open the Bible (for you – not for anyone else pastors). Go for a run. Eat something healthy. Go for dinner with a friend who gives you life. If your cup is empty, how are you going to fill anyone else’s?

These are five practices I’ve found helpful in my life. What have you discovered helps you build integrity?

Integrity is something we all desire, but how do you know if you have it?  And what exactly is it anyway?

Sometimes it’s easiest to think about something out of its immediate context.  When something is well built, we say it has structural integrity.  So in an earthquake, the building with excellent structural integrity survives.  When something physically collapses, we say it didn’t have the integrity to withstand the impact.

All of this springs from the original latin root of integrity, which means ‘intact’.  Can you withstand the crisis intact?

Many  people aren’t withstanding crises well these days. The storm buffets and they collapse along with their family or their organization.

The tension is that no one sees the problem until the storm hits. ‘Normal’ doesn’t really test your integrity.   Crises do.  But when a crisis comes, it’s often too late to fix what’s wrong.  The damage is happening in real time.

While there are many things that compromise our integrity, here are five signs that show your integrity is in question:

1.  It’s all about you. You can say it’s about God.  You can say it’s about others.  But only you and God know your heart.  Selfish people harm their organizations, families and friends.  If it’s all about you, you won’t go the distance.  Or you will,  but you’ll hurt a lot of people in the process and you’ll never know what could have happened if you made it about God and others.

2. Your self esteem rises and falls with the opinion of others. A secure leader can see the right way and lead people there through tough conditions.  An insecure leader will bend with every change in public opinion. Which means you’re not actually leading anyone, not even yourself.

3. You’re hiding things. You shouldn’t be telling everyone everything (that’s not healthy) - but someone needs to know everything.  If you’re keeping secrets, you’re heading for a fall.  Between my wife, elders, close friends and counselor, I have an inner circle that knows everything about me.  (By the way, if you’re afraid to give your password on your computer or phone to anyone in that circle, you’re hiding things.)

4.  You fail to do what you said you were going to do. This isn’t just about keeping promises; it’s about keeping your word in everything.  Better to say nothing and surprise someone by delivering than blurt out an intention you can’t fulfil.   Ultimately, people lose confidence in you when you fail to deliver.  It’s a trust issue.   A fairly easy way to address this is to say less and deliver more.  A great follow up system also helps (sometimes a lack of integrity isn’t even a moral issue – just an awareness and organization issue).

5.  You make too many compromises. Leadership is not about getting everyone to like you or about finding the easiest path.  It’s about discerning the best way forward.  It’s about getting people to go where they wouldn’t go if it wasn’t for leadership.  If you make too many decisional compromises or even a handful of personal compromises, your effectiveness will be–you guessed it– compromised.

Don’t just think of these things as character flaws, think of what’s at stake: when the crises hit (and they will), you won’t be left standing.  Simple as that.  When you attend to these things, you integrity grows, and so does your ability to live and lead through difficult times.

What insights have you gained on integrity?  What signs would you add to this list?

There are two potential teachers in your life: pain and wisdom.

Like many people, pain has been an incredibly instructive teacher for me.  In the same way that twisting your ankle while running on a cheap pair of shoes reminds you to buy better shoes next time, pain is immediate, memorable and disruptive.  Which makes it a teacher of sorts.

Pain makes us want to take back words we just spoke, redo projects we just blew, unhurt a friends, or wish we’d never tried that fiery hot sauce. Pain can incite change.

This shouldn’t be surprising, because for the most part, people change when the pain associated with the status quo is greater than the pain associated with change.

But there’s another teacher, in fact, a much better teacher than pain: wisdom.  Wisdom shows up earlier.  It seeks to teach before you take action, before there’s a pressing need or the searing pain of regret. Which is why wisdom is so much more difficult to obey than pain.

Pain is selfish, it demands you stop what you’re doing and pay attention.

Wisdom whispers.

Wisdom takes forethought, reflection, prayer and insight.  It often requires counsel – input before an event.

If you had a choice of teacher, I think we’d all pick wisdom.  Which begs the deeper question: why don’t we?

Want to know how you’re really doing?  Sit in silence.

Sit silently for at least 10 minutes – even an hour if you can handle it.

More and more, I’m learning that silence reveals what’s really happening inside me.

Whenever I eliminate all the noise around me and sit in complete silence, I find the quiet either reveals a peace or a disquiet.

I wish that silence always revealed a peace, but I find often it doesn’t.  I might find frustration, tension, anger, resentment, lust, envy, restlessness or any combination of things.

The valuable thing for me is that when I discover that, I also discover what I am confident God wants to work on.  Whatever the quiet reveals can be fuel for my prayer life.  It can reveal something I need to work through with God, with friends or sometimes even with a counselor.

Best of all, I’m finding resonance in the biblical truth that it is when we are still that we best know that God is God (Psalm 46).

The challenge of course is that no one will ever ask you to simply sit still for an hour.  No one ever texts you and asks you if you can carve out some time for silence and reflection.  Everybody just wants one more small slice of you.  And truthfully, those of us who resist silence like that.

It is easier to stay busy than it is to stay honest with ourselves.  It’s easier to pretend everything’s great even if we suspect it might not be.

Which would be a mistake.  Because soul work is the most important work we can do.  It animates and impacts every other aspect of our lives from our relationships to our work to our family.

Ever take a silence test?

I’m taking them often.  I don’t even like what I find much of the time.  Which is exactly the point.

Most of us would love passion to fuel our life and work every day.

That’s always how it starts, right?  When you begin something, it’s pretty much all passion.

Whether you’ve felt a call into ministry, you’re starting a new job, you’re toying with a new idea, or you’re even beginning a new relationship, passion gets us out of the gate almost every time.  And it can stay around for a season or two.

The problem is for all of us, passion fades.   Even when we know something is right-that we really shouldn’t be doing anything else-passion wanes.  Give it a season, a year, or (for the ultra passionate), a decade, eventually it just doesn’t feel like it used to. Or like we think it’s supposed to.

That’s when we do one of two things:

• We look for ways to renew our passion.  A new project.  Better numbers.  More growth.  A promotion.  A new pattern.  A side hobby.
• We look for a new position.  We leave what we used to think was our dream calling and hope to find a new one somewhere else.

Can’t get passionate about this job anymore?  Find a new one.  Don’t like your current spouse? Trade her in.

Which is a shame.  Because passion has a surprising counterpart:  perseverance.

So many people quit what could be a life calling not because the calling dried up but because their passion did.  Sometimes perseverance is the only difference between what you are currently feeling and what you once again feel, between the results you are getting in your current work and the results that are just around the corner.

I always wonder how many people quit just moments before a critical breakthrough.

God never promised that all of our days would be filled with passion.  Nor, actually, is passion listed as a virtue.  Guess what is listed as a virtue?  Perseverance.

You will have days, weeks, even seasons that are characterized by passion for what you’re doing.

And you will have periods of time – sometimes long periods of time – where you will simply have to persevere.

What I’ve discovered is that on the other side of perseverance is renewed passion.

Maybe the best thing you can do if you’ve got a great idea, a great calling, a great work,  is hang in there.  You’ll be surprised what you might discover.  And accomplish.

Had a great conversation last week with some leaders who lobbed a fresh thought my way.  We were talking about preachers, and being one, that always gets my interest up.

As we talked about effective communication,  one of the people said that the best ways to evaluate a preacher is to watch with the sound turned off.  Most preachers, he observed, look angry.

That was a huge insight.

How I say something is as important as what I say.  I had already noticed that most of us need to smile more; most of us look moderately unhappy much of the time.  But this observation really drove it home.

Now there are moments where we can rightfully be angry.  But all the time?  Every Sunday? Every day?  No. No wonder people are afraid of God.

Maybe this goes beyond preaching into life.  What if you simply decided to tell your face to match your mood every time you:

Walk into a meeting

Meet a friend

Arrive home at night

Greet your children

Picked up the phone

Start skyping

Pump gas

I don’t want my default to be a scowl.  In part because I don’t like people who are like that.  But also because I know a God who decided to make his final word “love”.

So…every time you move into a new situation today (if you don’t have something other than ‘the usual stuff” to communicate) try smiling.

It might communicate more than you think.