Out-In-Out

A couple days ago I was on a walk with my daughters. At each street crossing I would remind Grace, the 5-year-old, to “look left-right-left to see if it’s safe.” This simple phrase “left-right-left” set me to thinking about the intersections of ideas.

When we are crossing the street we look left first to see if there is any immediate danger, we look right to see if it’s thoroughly safe all the way across, and we look left again to double check the immediate surroundings. When an idea is encountered, whether it’s an opinion or something creative or a criticism, there should be a “left-right- left” response. Except in this case the response is “out-in-out.”

“OUT” – Ideas begins outside of us we respond initially as an outsider. The process begins by examining its merit and truthfulness (it’s “safety” to carry on the analogy). We explore its creativity and whether it’s truly interesting. How does the idea seem to us from a cognitive and creative point of view? We examine it to see if it holds up and is worthy of espousal, expounding, explanation, and response.

“IN” – Once we’ve examined an idea from the outside we internalize it. We have to lay it across our experiences, our souls, our minds and see how it matches up with us. This is especially true of a criticism or opinion. Is it true of us? Do we need to make any changes in response? Do we owe a gracious response or a harsh one, an excited one or a tempered one? This internalization is what determines how we take the last step.

“OUT” – Only after taking the idea in can we put it back out in the right way. This is the calculated, double-checked, emotionally balanced, and properly self-aware response. According to our external and internal findings we respond with appropriate force, passion, humility, and accuracy.

Each of these steps is necessary for properly responding to an idea, whether it be in writing or in conversation. Ignore any of these and you run the risk of being incoherent, hypocritical, unaffirming, overly-passive, inaccurate, or disconnected. Just as we need to look both ways when coming to a street intersection, so we must look both ways when we encounter an idea. Out-in-out is how we safely, rightly manage that intersection.

"You" Is A Very Fluid Concept

In the movie Hitch there is a scene where Will Smith’s character is making suggestions to another character of how he should dress for a date. The other character says “I’m just not sure these shoes are me.” Smith looks at him and says “Right now, you is a very fluid concept.” The same should be true for each of us. To stick ourselves in the static status of “me” is to limit ourselves to our detriment.

“That’s just who I am.” We’ve all heard people say it and very likely said it ourselves. It’s that ubiquitous explanation (read: excuse) for some action or attitude that doesn’t sit well with someone else. Sometimes it’s taste in clothes, like the shoes from the scene in Hitch. It could be the way we talk (loud, fast, with an accent, etc.) More often, though, it’s something opinionated, hurtful, selfish. And we hide behind “That’s just who I am.”

“That’s just who I am.” “That’s not me.” That’s just arrogant. It smacks of faithless fatalism. Phrases like these assume a certain achievement and superiority in the status of “me” and “I am”. Only God can rightfully be described as “I AM”. The rest of us are becoming.

We ought never to be satisfied or limited with who we are. It should never remain the same for long. Yes, God did give us tendencies and personalities through our genetic code and our familial and cultural upbringing. But God also gives us grace to either grow those in positive directions or overcome them. “Who I am” is much less relevant and meaningful than who I am becoming.

If you are a person who hides behind the mantle of “me” you are choosing conflict, disappointment, and frustration. You are risking alienation from those around you as you plant your flag in one place and they move on. You will be a stationary obstacle in their way as they travel on the path to who they are becoming.

Let “you” be a fluid concept in the hands of God. Have the humility to recognize needed changes and to appreciate outside input. Yes, God gave you tendencies and a personality. But God is I AM. You are becoming.    

Exercise Caution In Using Extremes

This blog is the best EVER!

NOBODY else writes as well as me!

You have NEVER encountered such GENIUS!

EVERYBODY should read it!

Whether speaking, writing, facebooking, or tweeting it’s not usually a good idea to use superlatives or extremes (best, worst, nobody, everybody, favorite, all-time, always, never, etc.). I didn’t say it’s never a good idea. That would be untrue. Just like most superlatives or extremes (see: the first three sentences of this post).

In description these kinds of words bankrupt your phrases of meaning over time. They are persistent exaggeration. Using them is crying “wolf”; in time people just stop listening. Your descriptions lose credibility and your words become valueless.

In debate they create loopholes by setting up straw men or by simply being untrue. They are sweeping generalizations that are easily debunked and disproven.

In relationships they falsely accuse. No, my wife does not “always” talk to me that way. To say so is to slander her.

There is a certain amount of immaturity and ignorance in the overuse of these kinds of words. It implies a lack of thought and recognition toward the import of words themselves. My 5-year-old refers to each different restaurant she wants to go to or movie she wants to watch as her “favorite”. Teens and college students refer to Taco Bell runs as "epic" and Taco Bell burritos as "the best ever!"  There's a reason for this: they don't understand the significance of their words because they don't (or don't know how to) think about it. But you and I should.

Use these extreme types of words pointedly and you will be able to use them powerfully. Use them sparingly and people will trust them. Use them to make a point. Don’t allow them to be pointless. 

Kindergarten: Day 1

My 5-year-old daughter, Grace, started kindergarten today. Well, that’s only sort of true because it seems like the whole family has started kindergarten today. In order to process this momentous, somewhat mind-blowing experience I feel the need to write about it. I don’t have some processed, well-constructed point to make but rather a collection of varied and possibly useless thoughts that have been jumbling and bumbling around in my head.

I am getting old. How did my little, chubby baby girl turn into a tall, slender backpack toting elementary school student?

I am so young. All these other parents are a good 10 years older than me. I wonder if they know more about being a dad than I do?

Maybe a Dunkin Donuts vanilla long john wasn’t the best brain fuel for Grace’s first day, but it sure did make her happy.

I think I remember crying on my first day of school too. Every year between Kindergarten and 6^th grade.

How do I encourage my little girl to enjoy and thrive in school when I spent 18 years of my life despising it? Is this one of those “do as I say, not as I did” kind of things?

Is it my job to teach her to tie her shoes, or do they do that in class?

Oh no, here comes one of those PTA blood hound pit bull tiger moms, better pretend I don’t speak English.

That little boy just looked at Grace. If he does that again it’ll be the last mistake he ever makes.

My kid is cuter than yours.

Oh no, now mom and little sister are crying along with Grace. I’m not crying. Am I the strong one or does this mean I don’t care enough?

How come parents never told me how hard this was? Oh, that's right. Because I was the fourth child and probably a pain in the butt. Sending me to school was a pleasure, I'm sure.

I’m tired. Is it like this every year?

No Such Thing as a Perfect Book

At church last Sunday one of our pastors made a comment about how he used several books to get ready for teaching since no one book said what needed to be said on the subject. I don’t know whether this was more of a complaint or more of a simple observation. Either way he is exactly right.

And whether or not he knew it he managed to pin point exactly why books keep being written and published.

I have heard skeptical questions and have, myself, made some skeptical statements about the number of new books that are published on old subjects. But you know what I’ve never done? Read a perfect book.

I have never read a book that managed to be the final say or tell the perfect story. I think that’s why I keep reading and why people keep buying and why publishers keep publishing. No one book is good enough.

Every book is written by a person with limited knowledge and limited skills. Some authors may be experts or gifted or geniuses, but they’re still limited. And so they only communicate in their limited way. And we only get the bits they have to offer, some greater and some lesser (and some offering nothing at all). It is either ignorance or arrogance that assumes a good book is the perfect book on any subject.

In this life we will always we will always be searching for the whole of knowledge and the perfect story. And we’ll never get there this side of heaven, but that’s ok. Because in this life we will always be making and finding new books on old subjects to teach us the bits they have to offer.  

In Honor of a New School Year

I had some good teachers and some bad teachers. I remember little enough of what either said. That's because I was a bad student. But I can promise you this: if my teachers had used such resources as the ones you are about to view, I would have been infinitely more attentive.

And just for good measure, in case you didn't grasp the sheer educational stimulation and genius of that video:

John Piper, Fathering, and Kirby Puckett

“Kirby Puckett NEVER jogs to first base!” 20 years ago a father yelled this encouragement to his chubby, baseball-loving son on a baked, dirt infield at Elliot Park near downtown Minneapolis. That chubby kid never forgot that piece of advice.

For some reason my dad’s encouragement at that patchy, scrubby baseball field has resonated in my head a lot recently. I am not really sure why. Anyone who’s read John Piper’s books or has listened to him preach knows that he has made some profound, challenging, mind-blowing, tongue-twisting, soul-wrenching statements. But what I remember most is that “Kirby Puckett NEVER jogs to first base!”

A child remembers those things that matter most to him. What mattered to me was baseball and Kirby Puckett, yes. But more than that what mattered was that my father knew that those things mattered to me. He knew just what to say to keep my stubby legs churning to that first base and to every first base in every baseball and church softball game in the decades since. He knew that Kirby Puckett would inspire more hustle than any bribe, threat, platitude, cliché, or bombast ever could. He knew me.

What matters to me now, that neither my dad nor I could have known then, is that this advice still rings in my ears. It has morphed from a simple encouragement to run hard into an encouragement to parent just as hard. My dad was parenting hard on that summer day at the park, and it matters to me 20 years later. In this same way I want my parenting to resonate with my girls in the decades to come.

What will encourage my children in that unique, poignant way that gets them going and sticks with them? What matters to them that can be spring boarded into motivation and memories? Am I paying attention to what they love so that I can be part of indelible memories and live in their minds as a blessing for the next decades of their lives?

“Kirby Puckett NEVER jogs to first base!” See dad, I was listening. It’s just not what you thought I would remember.