Trust
This one is obvious. If you can't trust your friends, what's the point of having them? You want to be able to share your secrets and confess your fears in confidentiality. When someone says, "Your heart is safe with me" and means it, you know that you can trust them. Hang on to that person. A trustworthy person is a mature person.
Accountability
Accountability equals responsibility. And this simple principle works both ways. When you're working toward a goal, your accountability partner will help you pursue what's important. The friend that values accountability will not allow you to stray too far off your projected course.
Encouragement
No one has ever complained that they were over-encouraged. We all want someone to believe in us. Henry Ford once said, "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right". Make friends that believe the best about you.
Inspiration
Music, books, and even TV and movies can all serve to inspire people to do great things. But I think real people probably do more to inspire others to join them in changing the world than anything else. If someone else can do the impossible, then by golly, so can you!
Challenge
Growing people change. A good friend will challenge you to expand your horizons. He/she will push you to increase your capacity. Surround yourself with people who understand your strengths and challenge you to use them to do more, give more, be more. Lucky is the person who has been double-dog dared to dream big dreams.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I've Got A Secret
Secret hiding place. Club. Handshake. Password. Recipe.
Secrets. When we're the subject, we hate them, but when we discover one, we're on top of the world. Unlocked secrets bring forth treasures untold. It's why we pry, poke, bait, and bribe. Mysteries were meant to be solved, and secrets were meant to be shared. Or were they?
For years, my family has been trying to unlock the secret of my chocolate chip cookie recipe. I have promised to bequeath it to the most trustworthy child, but for now, it's in a vault. I admit that a little intentional investigating could probably do the trick in reproducing it. But if I'm being completely honest, I love that there's something I know that nobody else does. It belongs only to me. And of course that's the most selfish thing in the world! I can only make and distribute the number of cookies proportional to my budget. Flour, sugar, butter, and chocolate all cost money, and so the gift is severely limited by my personal purchasing power.
Sharing the recipe would allow unadulterated cookie joy to be multiplied across the population. There's a teeny tiny part of me, though, that actually thinks no one else could do it proper justice. They wouldn't beat the dough for the appropriate amount of time, their oven wouldn't be properly calibrated, they couldn't accurately manage the baking time, or they wouldn't use the correct chip ratio. My secret would be wasted on them, and worse my reputation would be at stake. The horror!
But of course that's not true. Intellectually, I know that. But I am irrational. And so I keep this secret.
Every single person in the world is a compendium of secrets, and authentic friendships are rare. Mistakenly, people assume that their secrets make them less valuable, not more. I meet people who I really like, but our conversations are superficial. All our interactions are an arms-length away. "Don't get too close", they seem to say. "You might not like what you see". But the reality is that the opposite is true! The more that is revealed to me, the more I long to discover. Like my cookie recipe, they don't want to trust me with their secrets. I might not do their hopes, fears, dreams, and loves true justice. Authenticity is too risky!
A lot of people treat their secrets like Samson (from the Old Testament) treated his. His secret was the source of his great strength. When he revealed it, unfortunately, it was used against him, and ultimately led to his personal downfall. That's the risk we take when we invite people to take a peek at the layers that make us who we are. It's the secrets that make us special. That make us genuine. That make us vulnerable.
Judges 16:6: So Delilah said to Samson, "Tell me the secret of your great strength and how you can be tied up and subdued."
Judges 16:16: With such nagging she prodded him day after day until he was tired to death.
Judges 16:19: Having put him to sleep on her lap, she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him.
Judges 16:20: Then she called, "Samson, the Philistines are upon you!" He awoke from his sleep and thought, "I'll go out as before and shake myself free." But he did not know that the Lord had left him.
Tragically, Samson did not know that he had betrayed his calling. He had permitted a Philistine woman to rob him of the sign of his special consecration to the Lord. And the Lord was the ultimate source of Samson's strength.
We think if we tell our secrets, our friends will leave us. Or worse God will leave us. Our secret will be used against us-- mocked, twisted, and disclosed.
That's not the message of the New Testament. Though there is a secret, it is beautiful and available to everyone. As Christians, we're encouraged to tell the whole world about this great gift. CHRIST IN US is the secret. To squirrel it away would be a tragedy. Like Samson's hair, CHRIST IN US is our strength. But unlike Samson's hair, God's gracious gift cannot be taken away.
I love Colossians 2:2-3: "My purpose is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (emphasis mine).
I have some secrets, to be sure. And as you already know, my most treasured is the secret chocolate chip cookie recipe. It's legendary, and though it's not really that complicated, I know the secret is what makes them special. That's why I would have to kill you if I typed it here now.
The secret of the New Testament is what makes us special, too. For, "To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is CHRIST IN YOU, the hope of glory." (Colossians 1:27) Christ is in us, and he is full of wisdom and knowledge. I wouldn't want to keep that to myself. I can't keep it to myself! Surely, I've let God down. Christ might be in me, but unfortunately I've got a lot of other junk in there, too. One of the main ways God introduces himself to people that don't know him is through authentic relationships. As my secrets come out, so hopefully does Christ. If ever God felt like I wasn't worthy to represent him on this earth, he has never done anything but encourage me otherwise. And I hope he will encourage you, too. There's no sense in us all keeping all our juicy secrets to ourselves!
Secrets. When we're the subject, we hate them, but when we discover one, we're on top of the world. Unlocked secrets bring forth treasures untold. It's why we pry, poke, bait, and bribe. Mysteries were meant to be solved, and secrets were meant to be shared. Or were they?
For years, my family has been trying to unlock the secret of my chocolate chip cookie recipe. I have promised to bequeath it to the most trustworthy child, but for now, it's in a vault. I admit that a little intentional investigating could probably do the trick in reproducing it. But if I'm being completely honest, I love that there's something I know that nobody else does. It belongs only to me. And of course that's the most selfish thing in the world! I can only make and distribute the number of cookies proportional to my budget. Flour, sugar, butter, and chocolate all cost money, and so the gift is severely limited by my personal purchasing power.
Sharing the recipe would allow unadulterated cookie joy to be multiplied across the population. There's a teeny tiny part of me, though, that actually thinks no one else could do it proper justice. They wouldn't beat the dough for the appropriate amount of time, their oven wouldn't be properly calibrated, they couldn't accurately manage the baking time, or they wouldn't use the correct chip ratio. My secret would be wasted on them, and worse my reputation would be at stake. The horror!
But of course that's not true. Intellectually, I know that. But I am irrational. And so I keep this secret.
Every single person in the world is a compendium of secrets, and authentic friendships are rare. Mistakenly, people assume that their secrets make them less valuable, not more. I meet people who I really like, but our conversations are superficial. All our interactions are an arms-length away. "Don't get too close", they seem to say. "You might not like what you see". But the reality is that the opposite is true! The more that is revealed to me, the more I long to discover. Like my cookie recipe, they don't want to trust me with their secrets. I might not do their hopes, fears, dreams, and loves true justice. Authenticity is too risky!
A lot of people treat their secrets like Samson (from the Old Testament) treated his. His secret was the source of his great strength. When he revealed it, unfortunately, it was used against him, and ultimately led to his personal downfall. That's the risk we take when we invite people to take a peek at the layers that make us who we are. It's the secrets that make us special. That make us genuine. That make us vulnerable.
Judges 16:6: So Delilah said to Samson, "Tell me the secret of your great strength and how you can be tied up and subdued."
Judges 16:16: With such nagging she prodded him day after day until he was tired to death.
Judges 16:19: Having put him to sleep on her lap, she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him.
Judges 16:20: Then she called, "Samson, the Philistines are upon you!" He awoke from his sleep and thought, "I'll go out as before and shake myself free." But he did not know that the Lord had left him.
Tragically, Samson did not know that he had betrayed his calling. He had permitted a Philistine woman to rob him of the sign of his special consecration to the Lord. And the Lord was the ultimate source of Samson's strength.
We think if we tell our secrets, our friends will leave us. Or worse God will leave us. Our secret will be used against us-- mocked, twisted, and disclosed.
That's not the message of the New Testament. Though there is a secret, it is beautiful and available to everyone. As Christians, we're encouraged to tell the whole world about this great gift. CHRIST IN US is the secret. To squirrel it away would be a tragedy. Like Samson's hair, CHRIST IN US is our strength. But unlike Samson's hair, God's gracious gift cannot be taken away.
I love Colossians 2:2-3: "My purpose is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (emphasis mine).
I have some secrets, to be sure. And as you already know, my most treasured is the secret chocolate chip cookie recipe. It's legendary, and though it's not really that complicated, I know the secret is what makes them special. That's why I would have to kill you if I typed it here now.
The secret of the New Testament is what makes us special, too. For, "To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is CHRIST IN YOU, the hope of glory." (Colossians 1:27) Christ is in us, and he is full of wisdom and knowledge. I wouldn't want to keep that to myself. I can't keep it to myself! Surely, I've let God down. Christ might be in me, but unfortunately I've got a lot of other junk in there, too. One of the main ways God introduces himself to people that don't know him is through authentic relationships. As my secrets come out, so hopefully does Christ. If ever God felt like I wasn't worthy to represent him on this earth, he has never done anything but encourage me otherwise. And I hope he will encourage you, too. There's no sense in us all keeping all our juicy secrets to ourselves!
Friday, September 16, 2011
What's On Your Mind?
"What's on your mind?"
A penny for your thoughts. And that's the million dollar question. It's the question Facebook asks me every time I open up the application, and its the question that made the inventors rich. What I've found, though, is that the thoughts that dominate most people's days are pretty mundane. Especially on the weekend. I know. I'm a loser for even looking at Facebook on the weekend. So this weekend I'm writing about it instead.
It bothers me, though, that with a daily opportunity to tell the world what's going on in our lives, so often we use it for self-promotion, the dreaded "face-bragging", or a general commentary of our daily activity. The worst kinds of messages are the ones that don't say anything at all. For example,
"Praying for the Smith family today after the horrible tragedy that occurred last night."
What? There are a couple of problems with this post. First of all, I don't know who the Smith family is, but most importantly, I'm suddenly sad that something awful has happened to them, yet I have no idea what it is, and worse, I'm powerless to do anything about it. And so...there is a litany of comments that go something like this:
"So sad."
"Yikes! What happened?"
"Is everyone OK?"
"Is there anything we can do?"
"What's going on?"
Usually, the "friend" doesn't respond to all these questions, and we are left wondering why he posted it in the first place. Does he just want to see how many people will comment? And what about the Smith family themselves? It's a mystery, but they are strangely silent on this day. I guess, dear friend, they don't want you to publicly share their private pain with 548 of your closest friends.
I love, though, that everyday on that site I come face-to-face with a community filled with insight, awareness, and inspiration. As Facebook has evolved, so have the posts.
Three years ago, when Gavin introduced me to it, he highlighted one friend's page:
"Joe Jones is... bored."
"Joe Jones is... taking a nap."
"Joe Jones is... craving a hamburger and french fries."
"Joe Jones is... going to work."
Joe Jones is not his real name. But since that day, Joe Jones actually met a nice girl and got married and has grown up a lot. I know all of this, of course, because I have been following him on Facebook.
At the time, I think my response was, "And why do I care?" Of course, I created a profile and Joe Jones became one of my first friends. And everyday (sometimes several times a day) I would look at my News Feed and see not only what Joe Jones was doing (or not doing) but hundreds of other people as well. Who knows the countless hours I, dare I say it, ...wasted..., doing this?
Facebook brings out the best in me.
Facebook brings out the worst in me.
For starters, I smile every time I see a precious photo of someone's child or learn of someone overcoming obstacles to reach goals. But when I hear of people's fabulous vacations, sometimes it seems like they are saying directly to me: "Are you jealous?" Yes, yes I am. I am very, very jealous.
Or how about when someone posts what they're having for dinner? It seems what they're really saying is, "Hey, don't you wish you were invited?" Sorry, pal. Not tonight. Not ever.
If I had still been in college when Facebook came around, I think I would have been mortified that my parents, though three hundred miles away, could stalk me there any time day or night. Even now, at 37, I'm sometimes horrified by the thought. And I have nothing to hide. If I would let five hundred friends (strangers?) see what I'm doing everyday and speak into my life, why am I hesitant to allow my own parents to do the same thing?
What's on my mind doesn't seem so significant when shared with strangers, but the people who love me who see into my heart, that just seems so intimate--almost like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Remember, how she didn't want to kiss on the lips? Too personal, too intimate. Ewww....
Words are powerful. When you share what's on your mind, consider this: "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building other us according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." Ephesians 4:29
I wholeheartedly believe in social media, but with great power comes great responsibility. In a venue where teenagers have cultivated mortal enemies and adults scandalous relationships, we all would be wise to heed the words found in Proverbs 12:18: "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing."
What are you doing to promote love and foster a spirit of shared friendship on the social media sites that represent you? In my opinion, if you can make me think or make me laugh, you got the words exactly right.
A penny for your thoughts. And that's the million dollar question. It's the question Facebook asks me every time I open up the application, and its the question that made the inventors rich. What I've found, though, is that the thoughts that dominate most people's days are pretty mundane. Especially on the weekend. I know. I'm a loser for even looking at Facebook on the weekend. So this weekend I'm writing about it instead.
It bothers me, though, that with a daily opportunity to tell the world what's going on in our lives, so often we use it for self-promotion, the dreaded "face-bragging", or a general commentary of our daily activity. The worst kinds of messages are the ones that don't say anything at all. For example,
"Praying for the Smith family today after the horrible tragedy that occurred last night."
What? There are a couple of problems with this post. First of all, I don't know who the Smith family is, but most importantly, I'm suddenly sad that something awful has happened to them, yet I have no idea what it is, and worse, I'm powerless to do anything about it. And so...there is a litany of comments that go something like this:
"So sad."
"Yikes! What happened?"
"Is everyone OK?"
"Is there anything we can do?"
"What's going on?"
Usually, the "friend" doesn't respond to all these questions, and we are left wondering why he posted it in the first place. Does he just want to see how many people will comment? And what about the Smith family themselves? It's a mystery, but they are strangely silent on this day. I guess, dear friend, they don't want you to publicly share their private pain with 548 of your closest friends.
I love, though, that everyday on that site I come face-to-face with a community filled with insight, awareness, and inspiration. As Facebook has evolved, so have the posts.
Three years ago, when Gavin introduced me to it, he highlighted one friend's page:
"Joe Jones is... bored."
"Joe Jones is... taking a nap."
"Joe Jones is... craving a hamburger and french fries."
"Joe Jones is... going to work."
Joe Jones is not his real name. But since that day, Joe Jones actually met a nice girl and got married and has grown up a lot. I know all of this, of course, because I have been following him on Facebook.
At the time, I think my response was, "And why do I care?" Of course, I created a profile and Joe Jones became one of my first friends. And everyday (sometimes several times a day) I would look at my News Feed and see not only what Joe Jones was doing (or not doing) but hundreds of other people as well. Who knows the countless hours I, dare I say it, ...wasted..., doing this?
Facebook brings out the best in me.
Facebook brings out the worst in me.
For starters, I smile every time I see a precious photo of someone's child or learn of someone overcoming obstacles to reach goals. But when I hear of people's fabulous vacations, sometimes it seems like they are saying directly to me: "Are you jealous?" Yes, yes I am. I am very, very jealous.
Or how about when someone posts what they're having for dinner? It seems what they're really saying is, "Hey, don't you wish you were invited?" Sorry, pal. Not tonight. Not ever.
If I had still been in college when Facebook came around, I think I would have been mortified that my parents, though three hundred miles away, could stalk me there any time day or night. Even now, at 37, I'm sometimes horrified by the thought. And I have nothing to hide. If I would let five hundred friends (strangers?) see what I'm doing everyday and speak into my life, why am I hesitant to allow my own parents to do the same thing?
What's on my mind doesn't seem so significant when shared with strangers, but the people who love me who see into my heart, that just seems so intimate--almost like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Remember, how she didn't want to kiss on the lips? Too personal, too intimate. Ewww....
Words are powerful. When you share what's on your mind, consider this: "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building other us according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." Ephesians 4:29
I wholeheartedly believe in social media, but with great power comes great responsibility. In a venue where teenagers have cultivated mortal enemies and adults scandalous relationships, we all would be wise to heed the words found in Proverbs 12:18: "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing."
What are you doing to promote love and foster a spirit of shared friendship on the social media sites that represent you? In my opinion, if you can make me think or make me laugh, you got the words exactly right.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Sit Here for the Present
Growing up, my favorite author was Beverly Cleary. I especially loved the character of Ramona. Ramona the Pest introduces Ramona Quimby and her experience at school the first day of Kindergarten. When Ramona's teacher tells her to "sit here for the present, " Ramona assumes that if she keeps her seat, her teacher will give her an actual present. Poor little Ramona, sitting there so sweetly hoping for a gift from her new teacher, but the gift never comes and so, with each passing minute, Ramona becomes increasingly dejected. Meanwhile, the classroom is alive with games and opportunities.
How many times have I felt just like Ramona! A friend comes to visit, and while sitting there chatting, I am itching to leave my seat, not because I'm not enjoying the company but because there are so many distractions. I am thinking of the laundry or the dishes. I argue with myself that I can surely do both--why not share a cup of tea while also rinsing out the pot that made it? Why not sort that basket as we exchange stories in the living room?
I'll tell you why.
It's because I might miss the present. Being fully present is the present.
I have some dear friends who know how to do this well. They never look at their clocks. When circumstances intersect the highway of their day, they welcome the interruption. To them, it's not an interruption. It's an opportunity--to share, connect, and grow.
Luke 10:38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
Oh, it's so hard for me! But I must remember that whenever I carve out a portion of my day to invest in another person, I will not be disappointed. If only because God made her, my presence in the present will be a present--either to me or to her. I have never regretted time spent basking in the sunshine of someone I love.
How many times have I felt just like Ramona! A friend comes to visit, and while sitting there chatting, I am itching to leave my seat, not because I'm not enjoying the company but because there are so many distractions. I am thinking of the laundry or the dishes. I argue with myself that I can surely do both--why not share a cup of tea while also rinsing out the pot that made it? Why not sort that basket as we exchange stories in the living room?
I'll tell you why.
It's because I might miss the present. Being fully present is the present.
I have some dear friends who know how to do this well. They never look at their clocks. When circumstances intersect the highway of their day, they welcome the interruption. To them, it's not an interruption. It's an opportunity--to share, connect, and grow.
Luke 10:38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
Oh, it's so hard for me! But I must remember that whenever I carve out a portion of my day to invest in another person, I will not be disappointed. If only because God made her, my presence in the present will be a present--either to me or to her. I have never regretted time spent basking in the sunshine of someone I love.
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