Please stop telling people, "You can be anything you want to be"

Not everyone can to everything, so do your thing and do it with excellence!  

I hear parents say, “My child can be anything they want to be” and motivation speakers encourage the suckers...sorry that slipped out...guests in the auditorium who shelled out hard earned money, with, “YOU can be anything you want to be.”  Well, maybe, but I would suggest that just because they can do it, doesn’t mean they should do it.  

President Obama and Bob the Builder say the same thing over and over and over again.  “Yes we can!”  Sure we can, but should we?  Just because President Obama can do it, does mean he should.  Just because Bob the Builder can do it, doesn’t mean her should.  

I have attended innumerable conferences and workshops courtesy of my employer, and while many are helpful and worth the expense, many are not.  I have learned that these speakers are paid, often, $3000 to $5000 for a one or two day conference.  That’s some serious money!  Are they worth it?  Maybe some.  Do you think their family told them that they could be anything they wanted to be?  

Maybe instead we should be encouraging our children and others to “Be the best that you are meant to be.”  Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you...”  We have a purpose and it would seem that it was not “I don’t need any plans for you, you be anything you want to be.”

If you are meant to be a motivational speaker, then be the best you can be at it, and give your listeners some tangible substance to learn from.

If you are meant to serve coffee and lend a listening ear at the local coffee shop, listen well, know your customers, call them by name and make the best cup of coffee.

If you are meant to enter the world of politics, good luck.  I don’t know how anyone can be their best there with so many competing demands from special interest groups.

What ever you are meant to be, do it well.  Not everyone can do everything, so do your thing and do it with excellence.  Be true to yourself, and others, because everyone has a story.

My time in jail

I spend my free time on most Monday evenings at a jail, showing videos and talking with the inmates about hope and their future.  If you haven’t been in a jail before, it is a different world with it’s own set of rules, it’s own culture and a definite hierarchy.  Most guys have an image to either create, or keep up and it is something to watch this occur before your eyes.

This week, I spent time with nine inmates and we talked about the hypocrisy of the church, specifically the people that make up the church.  There was discussion about how church goers stare and wonder about new people.  Sometimes with a critical eye, other times in curiousity.  There was a consensus that it’s the people in a church that make them uncomfortable, not necessarily the concept of Christianity.

So I asked the guys, what would happen if I wandered into the places and groups that you hang out in?  The response was the same as the one they receive in church; Why is he here, what does he want, who does he think he is.  My favourite response, “Get his money.”  That might be church too if you haven’t yet learned the concept of tithe and offering.

So we face the problem of a church looking very much like the world; or the world looking like the church?  It was clear talking to the guys that transparency is expected, but not so much given.  I would suggest this is from a risk of being vulnerable.  It’s scary to be transparent.

This is where Galatians 6: 1-3 comes back into play.  The NIV says “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.”  

The Message says it this way, “Live creatively, friends. If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day's out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ's law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived.”

Are we doing this?  Are we coming along side each other to lift each other up and help them through their tough times or are we being critical of others and condemning them for their mistakes?  We would do well to learn to lift others up rather than condemn them to secrecy.

Everyone has a story.  Listen to them.  Come alongside them and walk with them through to the end.

Bearing one another's burdens

I have been stuck on a portion of scripture over the past week or so.  When I was at the jail a couple of weeks ago Galatians 6 was quoted as we spoke of helping one another in life.  Bearing one another’s burdens.  I have heard it before, but something stirred in my heart.

I met a man a few months ago who, by most accounts, seemed relatively unremarkable.   He lives in rural Ontario in and simple older white sided farm house with slightly crooked floors from the years of heaving frost.  This simple man, Jack, is quite tall and as thin as a rail.  But he is a hard worker, daily bent with physical labour in the outdoor extremes.

Some years back, he met a woman who had two children of her own from a past relationship that had ended.  Her two children, at the time, were just early in their school years, maybe 5 and 7 years old.  These two girls were best friends as siblings and faced the ups and downs of their parent’s relationship and eventual demise.  As the years passed, Jack and Sylvia had a daughter together, but ended their relationship after Sylvia met man over the internet.

The girls, then in their early teens, briefly moved with their mother as she began yet another relationship with her new boyfriend.  This, however, was short lived and both girls, Karly and Kate, moved back with Jack, who opened his home up to them, as he had many years before.

Today, Karly and Kate continue to live with Jack and his own daughter, Kristyn.  Jack knows his role; he isn’t their father, but he is their main support - emotionally and financially.  He voices his opinion, but knows his boundaries.  He does this while raising his own daughter part time and working full time.  This is a man who is bearing another’s burdens.  You wouldn’t know it though.  He doesn’t talk much about it.  This is his family.

I have other thoughts on this particular portion of scripture that I will be sure to write about another time.

Everyone has a story.  What’s yours?  Tell me about it at rowleywriter@gmail.com.

Are you living in a Facebook world?

I admit it.  I openly mock my family and friends about their ongoing love and fascination with Farmville.  There is a shred of curiousity that peaks as I wonder what the draw is.  How can my son sit in the living room for hours and tend to his crops and livestock when he doesn’t even tidy his room?  My wife informs me that she needs to get on the computer to harvest her crops.  Really?

That’s just one piece of it, and I could almost handle this, but then it gets bumped up a notch to where I can no longer sit idly by.  I have a voice and it’s time to use it!  But first, time for a shower.

Ok, I’m back.  My wife went on my laptop while I was away.  As she handed it back to me she said..and I quote...”Here you go.  I’m all done my farming.”

Farmville is likely a fun game.  Enough people play it on Facebook.  Let me illustrate what my beef is.  I log onto Facebook and this is a sampling of my Top News:

Jordan just harvested their chicken coop and found some Treasured Golden Mystery Eggs, and wants to thank their friends for feeding the chickens!

Dennielle was working on their farm when they found a lonely Gray Horse! This Gray Horse is rarin' to find a good home where she can help with the work.

Russell is constructing a French farmhouse to decorate their farm and is over half-way finished! Russell can tell they'll have some left-over materials and wants to share them with you!

Then there are the postings that show my friends in need of wood and nails to complete the barn building projects on the farm.  When is the last time you actually went to the neighbour’s house and asked to borrow a tool?  When is the last time you actually went to offer supplies to a neighbour who was working in their yard?

Even better question; Do you know your neighbour’s names?  We are blessed to know our neighbours and we have helped each other with various tasks.  Imagine a world where we all lived like we do in Farmville.  We would see a need at a neighbour’s home and we would answer the need without request.  We would join in with our neighbours as they built a new shed in the yard, just because we want to help.  It really could work and it did for many generations, just ask your grandparents, or if you are lucky enough to still have them, ask your great-grandparents.

But today, sadly, this is rarely the case.  I know why though, and it’s a sad testament to our value system.  In Farmville, players are rewarded for their kindness. In reality, we are selfish and if there isn’t anything in it for us then we won’t likely go out of our own way to lend a hand. There is an overwhelming lack of intrinsic desire for what is right and good.  Can you cite the ‘golden rule’?  Treat others as you yourself want to treated...or as is more accurate, Love thy neighbour as thy self.

Remember this, someday, you might be in need.  You don’t want to be alone.  So step up, talk to your neighbour, give them a hand, have them over for a barbecue and get to know them, bless them.  Everyone has a story.

The Walmart Pirate

Something strange just happened to me.  Earlier on I spoke of meeting new people and hearing their stories, and I almost did that just a few minutes ago when I saw what I thought was a man dressed as a pirate in the Walmart I was in.  

Initially, I caught a few casual glances; seeing his long Aussie jacket, a black hat, thick hair like a wig, and I was pretty sure I even saw an eye patch.  We made eye contact and I gave him the nod.  You know the nod, that casual acknowledgment between two people.  As I waited in line as the store was closing, the pirate’s line seemed to move quicker than mine, so I decided this my opening.  Over I went.

As I stood behind the pirate, I considered how to break into conversation.  Maybe something like “Arrrgh matey.  What brings you to the fine store such as this?”  or maybe, “What brings a pirate to Walmart?”  Then I noticed that he had a child with him.  He was no more than seven years old.  He looked like any other seven year old, except that he wore a leather vest that made him look like a sheriff from the wild west.

The pirate briefly turned toward me as he spoke to the cashier.  He didn’t have an eye patch, it was his hair covering part of his face.  He spoke with a spanish accent too.  I realized that his hair wasn’t a wig after all, it was all real.  His Aussie jacket had traces of horse hair on it.  I soon knew this was no pirate at all!  This was a Mexican cowboy!

I hadn’t figured on how to strike up conversation with a pirate and now I had to think fast.  I had no clue where to go now.  Worked out well though.  I didn’t get the chance to put my foot in my mouth.  The Mexican cowboy and his sheriff sidekick paid for their purchase and left the store.  Presumably to saddle up and ride off into the west.

Everyone has a story.  I wish I would have had the words to get his.