Honouring the intentions behind the word-salad

I like the… um… things… which you do with the kids each week.

I appreciate that you… care… for the teens.

Thanks for all the… stuff… you do with the young people.

I’ve heard all of the above.

And, undeniably, they are well intended.

Usually, they are uttered by a kindly congregant. Possibility of retirement age.

Nonetheless, there’s only one way to respond to an appreciative word-salad.

Honour the intention.

Honour the intention behind the fumbling sentence.

Honour the intention behind the awkwardness.

Honour the intention because the gratitude vastly exceeds the execution.

Your loneliness is shaped by your expectation

What did you expect?

For a lot of our emotions, their root cause can be traced back to our expectations.

We are angry… because of our expectations.

Or disappointed… because of our expectations.

Or elated… because of our expectations.

Or surprised… because of our expectations.

Or lonely.

Are you expecting to be a part of a crowd?

Are you expecting to be in the majority?

Alternatively, are you expecting to be on your lonesome?

Are you expecting to be isolated?

Your expectations will shape your perspective of loneliness.

Why?

Because if your in a groups of 6, then your expectation will shape your response.

Were you expecting 50? 12? 2?

Your expectation will mould your view of that half-dozen.

You will feel alone if you’re expected 50.

But, you won’t feel isolated if your thought you were only involved in a lonely pair.

We see this play our with the prophet Elijah in 1 Kings 19. 

Elijah thinks, erroneously, that he is alone. This drives Elijah to the point of despair.

If Elijah knew of the 7000 who remained faithful, then his outlook would have looked dramatically different.

Maintaining some of the links

In a lot of professions, change is a given.

People move.

People graduate.

People get promoted.

Life circumstances change.

But, continuity makes a massive difference.

While many things within a job can be learnt, be it prior to the vocation or through experience, it’s repeated experience which cultivates expertise.

Continuity is one of the secret sauces of building expertise.

If you repeat an action, refining your practice as you go, then you get closer to expertise.

But, within schools and churches, continuity is a rare commodity.

My years in ministry is testimony of this - four churches over 13 years.

With a transient workforce, be it paid or voluntary, some consistent links within the chain are invaluable.

Someone who has run the activity multiple times before.

Someone who has the contacts.

Someone who has made the mistakes.

Someone who can advise.

Someone who can remember.

Inevitably, chance will happen, but maintaining some links in the chain ensures that your tent-pole activities run effectively.

Being thankful that you could appear like a big fish

As far as youth ministries are concerned, I was a part of multiple large ministries.

At least comparatively.

My numbers were larger.

My systems were more intricate.

My leadership team was more established.

But, I was by no means the largest ministry in my denomination.

Or local region.

And I certainly wasn’t the most effective.

But, when held against many other congregational ministries, I appeared to be a part of something fairly large.

A similar thing could be said of my current school.

Today, in a training event, I was - by far - the representative of the largest school.

In sheer numbers, I was a big fish.

Again, I’m not working at one of the largest schools in Sydney. Not even close. 

I’m not even working at the largest school in my region.

But, the scale of my setting set me apart.

Some things wouldn’t work in my context. 

Sheer size makes some things unmanageable.

With size, complexity increases.

With size comes more moving parts.

With size, mistakes are magnified.

With size, physical demands are compounded.

Just as the opposite - a lack of size - is true.

As I sat in my training, I was reminded to be thankful for - what appears to be - a large setting.

Just as I would have been when I was one of the few full-time youth ministers in my denomination.

The growth progression

The following is true across a lot of areas in life, particularly vocationally.

I’ve found the following to be particularly apt for both ministry and teaching…

Year 1: Survive and Learn.

At the start of anything, you are like a duck on a pond. Lots of action, most of which is unseen.

Initially, you don’t know what you don’t know.

You’re in survival mode, living day-by-day.

Year 2: Grow and Experiment.

By the time you’re in your second year, you’re comfortable with your surroundings and have now negotiated many of the annual checkpoints for the first time.

Now, you can begin to implement the lessons from the first year.

Now, you can look for ways to begin to implement new methods to produce the results you needed last year.

Year 3: Refine and Specialise.

In your third year, you now feel like you truely belong. 

Now, you can add polish to the things which you’ve previously put in place.

Now, you can look for places to expand your responsibilities and exercise your giftedness in new ways.

Year 4: Go Deep.

By your fourth year, it’s time to go deep. 

Think deeply.

Act intentionally.

Guide others.

When reading the Bible is a drag

Right now I’m halfway through my five-year mega bible reading plan.

By the end of 2026 I will have read through and studied, usually by reading at least one commentary or book, the entire bible once and the first five books of the New Testament twice.

Inevitably, I’d hit parts of the bible which I’ve not wadded into deeply before.

Unexpectedly, I really enjoyed Ezekiel this time last year.

Right now, Isaiah is a slog.

I’ve penciled in 12 weeks to delve into Isaiah and, quite frankly, it’s a bit of a drag.

But, worthwhile things aren’t always the most stimulating.

Giant tasks will usually involve some level of grunt work.

For the first time in a few years, with my bible reading being the healthiest it’s been in for at least a decade, I’m surprised it took so long for a burdensome book to come along.

Now, if you’re enamoured with Isaiah, more power to you.

Maybe, by the time I’ve plowed through the book and got swept away in an insightful, well-written, commentary I will also love the longest major prophet.

Not yet.

Nonetheless, I’ve at least got my fill of regular Tiny Bible Bit passages which somewhat goes to show that I’m at least getting something out of the book and… by mid-August, I’ll get to move onto the book of Micah.