Tag: Life Lessons

What you can learn from “Green Eggs and Ham”

If you’ve read Green Eggs and Ham by children’s author and illustrator Dr. Seuss, you might have found yourself sucked in by the gravitational pull of the repetitive story.  For those not familiar with the book no worries, I can catch you up to speed. Sam-I-Am (the main character) wants the other character who is never named but looks like a Grumpy Old Man to try green eggs and ham. Sam-I-Am asks the Grumpy Old Man over and over if he would be willing to try green eggs; and when he is refused by the Grumpy old man he offers different options.

For instance:

Would you like them in a house?
Would you like them with a mouse? 

I do not like them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them anywhere. 

You can read the entire book here; but if you can, get the book and enjoy the colorful illustrations. Finally, in the middle of the story the exasperated Grumpy Old Man says: 

Sam! If you let me be,
I will try them. You will see. 

He tries them and . . . 

Say! I like green eggs and ham! 
I do! I like them, Sam-I-Am!

He joyfully repeats all of the suggestions that Sam had made before, agreeing that he would indeed eat green eggs and ham:

And I would eat them in a boat.
And I would eat them with a goat.

You get the picture. No longer grumpy, the Old Man ends the story:

I do so like green eggs and ham!
Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-Am.

Last week I read a bit of trivia about this book that had me look at it in a new way and wonder what we could learn from this unlikely teacher.

1. The challenge and power of limits

Green Eggs and Ham is the result of a bet between Dr. Seuss and his editor. Green Eggs and Ham uses only 50 different words. Seuss’s editor bet him after The Cat in the Hat, which used 225 words, that he couldn’t write a book using fewer.

Green Eggs and Ham went on to become one of his most popular books and only uses 50 words. Though a fun fact, let’s not downplay the challenge of telling a story that makes sense within the limits. Right now the world over it seems that “restrictions” is the name of the game. Visas aren’t being issued or are glacially slow in being issued. The way that you have typically gone about life and sharing the Good News have been radically altered and you may not even be in the same country as those you came to serve. Or you’re in the same country but without easy access to people.

It’s tempting to look at the limit and see what can’t be, instead of to look at what is possible. Imagine if the final version of Green Eggs and Ham came in at 52 words? No go. Dr. Seuss had to find a way to cut extra two words. Because he was willing to invest the time in crafting and recrafting the story, the world now has this story that can be told for years to come. Though your challenges and limits are real (and annoying and heart breaking), you can still “tell a story.”

2. Life is repetitive

Without too much effort, by the end of the story, the reader could almost retell it without effort. Why? Because the story is so annoyingly repetitive! First the bad news, life on the field isn’t nearly as non-stop-exciting as many “back home” think. Instead, it can be mind numbingly repetitive. Laundry, food prep, emails, time in traffic. 

But now for the good news . . . repetition is a tool of memorization. As we present the Good News, disciple people, and walk with them as they join in sharing, you get to repeat the good news again and again. When Sam-I-Am got his first no from the Grumpy Old Man when he asked him “Would you like green eggs and ham?” he didn’t let every subsequent no get stop him. Instead, he thought of another situation (with a goat or on a boat) that maybe, just maybe the Grumpy Old Man would be willing to try.

Not in an obnoxious YOU MUST LISTEN way, but in a I’m never going to tire of pointing you to the source of life way, embrace the repetitive nature of this story.

3. Change is Possible

While there is no reason to read into a story what isn’t there, it is fun to make connections. I don’t think Green Eggs and Ham is a secretly Christian book. I am sure that Sam got his name because it creates a great beat when reading: 

Sam-I-Am

If this were a song, that’s a beat you can dance too!

But I also love truth woven into a story. Sam never wearied of asking the Grumpy Old Man if he would try green eggs and ham because he knew, he knew, he knew that if Grumpy would try them, he would love them and wouldn’t be so grumpy. The great I AM also never wearies of asking Grumpy, Sad, Betrayed, Lonely, Angry, Depressed people to try a new way of living because he knows that it’s the only way to truly live. In the end, the Old Man is actually a New Man, full of hope, joy, and gratitude.

Maybe today you don’t need another zoom call or a deep study. Maybe what you need is Green Eggs and Ham.

Photo by Louis Hansel @shotsoflouison Unsplash

10 Life Lessons That Leading Worship 600 Times Taught Me

It just sort of happened.

As a teenager growing up in an a cappella church with an a cappella youth group, I sang a lot. In a non-instrumental church, any guy who can loosely carry a tune will be asked to carry that tune. And so I was. Over and over. And over. No guitar skills necessary.

In college, our inter-denominational student ministry needed a band leader. I still lacked all guitar skills, but no matter, they tagged me and I became the de facto leader for our Thursday night gatherings.

And then I actually started working for a church, leading the youth and worship ministries. I led worship nearly every Sunday for about six years. And that’s how we get to 600 plus.

I recently sat down to ponder what life lessons those experiences taught me. And as Elizabeth and I enter our 8th year of living and ministering across cultures, these “life lessons” have begun to look a lot like “cross-cultural ministry lessons” too. So I hope they are an encouragement, a blessing, and perhaps a challenge, to you as well, wherever you find yourself on this great planet we call home.

1. It’s not about me. 
Whether I’m standing before a group of 15 or 500, it’s not about me. It’s about the struggling mom of littles, the financially-strapped couple wondering how to make ends meet. It’s about the widower who feels his loneliness deep in his bones. It’s about the teen who’s trying to figure out who she is — and who God is.

Of course, it’s not about me.

And of course, it’s not primarily about them either. It’s about the Father who is longing to connect with his beloved people through moments of communion and community. It’s about the presence of the only One who is worthy; it’s about what the Spirit is saying to his Church.

 

2. Sometimes, you just have to show up, even when you don’t feel like it. 
When you do anything over and over and over again, even if it’s a good thing, there will come a time when you don’t feel like doing it. Well, what’s a worship leader (or missionary) supposed to do? Is it inauthentic to stand before people when you’ve had a crappy night’s sleep, or when you’re in the middle of a big fight with your wife, and pretend that things are OK?

I really had to wrestle with this. Every Sunday is not a glorious day, and there were many Sundays where the last thing I wanted to do was go to church, much less lead people in worship.

Showing up and doing your job, even when you don’t feel like it, isn’t inauthenticity. It’s actually maturity.

One question that continues to help me with this is, “Who is benefiting from my NOT revealing everything?” Am I hiding my true self from people in order to protect myself? In order to avoid intimacy? Or am I not revealing EVERY THING IN EVERY SINGLE MOMENT to get myself out of the way and help people meet with God? Is it for me or for them? If it’s for them, then it’s probably OK. (Of course, this assumes that at some point, and with some people, the leader will be authentic and vulnerable.)

God is worthy of worship whether I feel like it or not, and sometimes I need to stand before him and worship not because of my feelings, but in spite of my feelings. This is true about leading worship, and it’s true about leading life.

 

3. Smiling matters. A lot.
Effie was a kind old lady who became The Great Encourager of my 16-year-old self. When I was just starting out, someone told me, “Locate the few people who are smiling; look at them often.” I looked at Effie a lot.

It’s pretty good life and ministry advice too, “Locate the few people who are smiling; look at them often.”

 

4. Eye contact matters.
I’ve seen worship leaders who never look at a single person in the audience. That M.O. can look super-spiritual, and maybe it is. Maybe they’re lost in total adoration, caught up in the moment. Or maybe they’re just super disconnected from the people their leading.

In life abroad too, I’ve seen people who never notice the people in front of them. So look at people, look at their eyes, wonder about their stories, ask about their stories. If you do, you will impact people very deeply; for when it comes down to it, we are all longing to be seen, even if we’re desperately afraid of it.

 

5. Church people are the worst.
Some people at some churches hated me. They disliked my style, my music, and maybe even my face. It’s just the way it is. Some people will not like you no matter what you do. That does not necessarily mean you’re doing something wrong or bad, but it does mean that you (and they) are humans.

 

6. Church people are the best.
It was church guys who painted our house when my mom was sick with terminal cancer.

It was the “casserole ladies” who fed us.

It was inter-generational trips and Bible studies that showed me how to be a Christian adult, not just a Christian teen.

It was a man, a leader in the church, who came to my side when I couldn’t finish leading God Moves In a Mysterious Way. The cancer-induced tears were drowning me. He stood with me, shoulder to shoulder. We were two men at the front of a church, one young and crying, unable to voice anything. The other, older, an elder, choking tears and singing through empathy.

I will never forget that moment, because in that moment, standing vulnerable before God and his people, I was not alone. I was joined by a man thirty years my senior, and I was saved.

 

7. Complainers complain.
It’s what they do. But it is possible, sometimes, to maintain a positive relationship with complainers. And when it’s possible, it’s also extremely valuable.

But sometimes complainers are just toxic and keeping relationship with them is inadvisable. One key difference? If the complainers really want what’s best for you and for the church, they just really disagree with you, it’s probably best to try to maintain a friendship. If they’re out to control and dominate, manipulating through pressure and threats, to meet their own twisted needs, yeah, run away.

 

8. Every minute leading people requires two minutes NOT leading people.
At least.

The times that you’re NOT leading are more important than the times when you are leading. It may not look related, but sabbath has a direct impact on Sunday. Hong Kong news directory

 

9. Displaying authentic emotions, even tears, in front of people, may be the most “leaderish” thing you ever do.
We live in hard times, and my current job as a pastoral counselor has convinced me (again) that most people do not feel free to really feel their feelings. They feel societal, religious, familial pressure to “keep it all together,” whatever that means. By showing emotions, leaders can help change this. We must change this.

 

10. If at the end of the day, people only remember your skills (or skinny jeans), you’ve failed.
When it really matters, people won’t care about your vocal ability. People won’t care about your flashy .pptx or Prezi or Keynote. People won’t care about your hair style or flannel shirt or your perfect DMM strategy. At the end of the day, people will ask, “Did he care about us? Did he care about the Church?”

Basically, what matters when the sun sets are these three things:

  • Was I a person of faith, even in my doubts?
  • Did I demonstrate hope, even through my despair?
  • And in a world gone mad, did I love like Christ?

May God help us all to live towards that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I drafted this article, I wept. I remembered my church, the Red Bridge church of Christ, and my breath caught.

You see, as I pondered, I realized something: I needed them way more than they needed me. That’s just the truth. I was in front of them, but they were leading me. I taught them new songs, but they taught me what Jesus looked like with skin on. I cried in front of them, and they joined their hearts with mine and embodied those beautiful people who mourn with. I got frustrated with them and I’m sure they got frustrated with me, and yet, we stayed friends. I’m so very glad we did, for those dear saints showed me what a “long obedience” could look like.

I’ll forever be grateful for the group of God’s people who invited a scrawny teenager with a pitch pipe to stand, to cry, to lead. They taught me so much, and I will never forget them.