Thinking like a woman

As I was trying to explain to Louisa why I had taken a particular direction with a person in the church, I had her undivided attention. Because one person in the church was attacking the both of us! According to the attacker, I should be a defender of the Truth! I should be the pastor who corrects everyone else’s tiniest deflection on (her definition of) the straight and narrow! I should be smart enough to detect and correct every hint of heresy! Why did I not challenge the heretic!!?? Why did I not immediately go on the offensive when this person got a bit derailed? Why!?

Why indeed? Well, because I think like a woman . . . at least according to Lousia. I will admit this news unsettled me quite a bit. I have never been accused of such a thing ever in my whole life! My sensitivity range is somewhere between a stone and a crocodile. My capacity for feelings is generally in the pit-bull to cockatiel range. My patience for wordy expressions is deeply in the negative numbers. I think like a woman?

Needless to say I wanted to hear Louisa unpack this thinking like a woman thing quite a bit more. It was making me nervous. I was afraid I was breaking out in hives or something. Perhaps soon I would catch the vapors! Maybe I needed a new wardrobe I know I know, I am thinking like a woman again . . . but heck even manly men get curious sometimes!

So as Lousia explained why I did not instantly correct this minor heresy that was floating around the room, (this is the explanation of why I think like a woman) was because I was understanding and intuiting the pain that this person was feeling, and that I did not want to correct her in front of others.

Hmmm. There is a fair amount of truth and accuracy in that statement. Though I have never thought of thoughtfulness as being a feminine characteristic. The church can certainly use more of this . . . perhaps we all should think more like a women.

Clarifying outcomes

Probably the hardest leadership (or even personal) task to accomplish with skill is clarifying outcomes. What exactly are you trying to accomplish and why? What does the final product look like? Every successful business works hardest at these questions. The church is not a business, but we are in business . . . the people business.

Measuring outcomes is tough enough, but often just deciding which outcomes the church/kingdom is looking for can drive you bonkers. If you are involved with knowledge work which most church workers are, then this is the most critical skill. We need to hone and define over and over and at multiple levels what exactly we are trying to accomplish! This is a primary weakness in most church-related organizations.

The reason this is so critical is that unless we know exactly what we are reaching for, what we are trying to produce, what we are about, then we never know where to reallocate resources, and we never find a sustainable level of efficiency. Producing anything becomes incidental and occasional.

David Allen quotes Lily Tomlin who said - I always wanted to be somebody. I should have been more specific. Tomlin has the gist of what I am trying to point out about the church, or rather point out about its leadership. If we are not very very specific about what outcomes we are expecting/wanting/searching for, then our possibilities of getting them are correspondingly small.

So do we want big churches? Lots of churches? Are we seeking multitudes of converts? Lots of money? Deep people who challenge their worlds with skill? What are we trying to build and for how long? What legacy are you leaving? Do you even know? Go cat go, and clarify those outcomes!

God-smacked!

As Ray was describing for me how G. came to X, he used this word, “Godsmacked!” Now G. is probably one of the dangerous men in all of the Hairy Armpit . . . his local connections read like a resume for mafia connections. When G.’s asks me “should I kill him for you?” he is probably serious. So when Ray used this term, it really drove home how radically G.’s life has been impacted by God Himself.

I asked Ray what was the most pivotal moment in G. coming into the Family, and without hesitation Ray said “you”. I informed Ray that I was not a moment first of all, and secondly that I can’t pivot worth crap. After Ray finished howling, he unpacked what was pivotal in my encounters with G.

1. “I drank a beer with him.” This was one of those classic cultural moments when you need to do what the non-praying person is doing. G.’s previous interaction with Chr*st*ans was extremely narrow and moral policemen focused. Those members of the Family spent most of the time telling G. what he must give up in order to become a Family member. G. said that I told him to read the Scriptures and listen to God. The fact that I was a religious leader and made no judgement calls on him in those initial meetings was huge.

2. “I listened while drinking a beer with him.“ G. relates that 99.9% of his encounters with Family members thus far, had been G. being given all this information and answers (about questions he did not even have). It was like the person with the most knowledge was the really spiritual person. G. stated that I did not try to teach him anything, only telling him my personal story about how God pursued me, and how I believe God is pursuing all of us. Even more important was patient listening, as G.’s story unfolded for me.

3. ”I did not have all the answers.“ Westerns overload people with information and knowledge. We value competence over everything. People in the Hairy Armpit value relationship over all. But our competence model brings a ton of arrogance along with it. I really have to agree with G. on this one. Most Westerners here have an instant answer for every question -- even ones that aren’t being asked. Doctorate or not, G. says it was really important that I said, ”Hey I don’t know.“

4. ”That I involved lots of other Family members in the process.“ This is a critical part of thinking that says we should ”fish“ with a net, rather than a pole. It is something we really do together, not as individuals. I do remember that actual moment when G. asked me ”who else believes like you do“ and I pointed to the people he was surrounded by at that exact moment as said, ”we all do.“

It was encouraging and good to hear that we are joining in what God is doing, in God’s way, not the North American way. But I am thinking that at least some of the things we are doing, would work well in a North American context? I don’t know, whaddya think? Regardless let’s pray that more and more people get Godsmacked! Alright!

The problem with healing - by someone who has been healed

I got all kinds of questions and problems with the way we handle and approach healing within the Body. Last night I was at a small group meeting that started out well and then degenerated into a “heal me” session. Now let me clarify this upfront . . . I am for healing. I believe healing happens today, because I myself have been healed spectacularly, with before and after photos even! I am for healing.

Ok, but demanding it bothers me much. Way much. I know that the book of James tells the sick to call for the elders, be anointed with oil and that prayer of a faith-filled person accomplishes much (which BTW was never done last night). But when people start demanding that God heals, insisting that God heal, naming and claiming that heal . . . I can hardly stand it. I am for healing. I have been healed, but it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Honestly, I am not sure that I even asked for healing!

The group last night was asking for the kinds of healing that greatly increase one’s life span. This type of request bothers me the most . . . because these people are in their 60’s, and they are experiencing the aches, pains and challenges that typically come at that stage of life, and they are insisting on healing from God. These are the people who consistently state that they are the most holy people in our church. These are the one’s who are now asking for a healing that effectively will keep them out of the direct presence of God for a much longer period of time. There is just something wrong with that.

As I said earlier I don’t even think I asked for healing . . . I was too worried about my wife and three little kids to think about healing, since the doctor said that I was to die within the next 36 hours max, it was time to get my house in order. To make matters, worse, I can not tell you one single definitive reason why God healed me and not . . . a 12 year old boy of my friends who died a few weeks later, or my neighbor who died a few weeks after that . . . and a thousand other people that were more worthy, needed, loved, or had potential far exceeding mine. Don’t you dare spiritualize this! My point is that the healing I experienced had nothing to do with me and everything to do with God. He did it because it pleased Him to do so and no other reason that we can be sure of.

In my line of work I have prayed 1000s of times for various people to be healed. To my knowledge never has a single one of them been healed. Do I believe God can? Certainly! Do I believe that God does sometimes? Certainly! Do I believe we can force God or have a magic structure or formula to get a healing? Not one bit. I still have no idea why God healed me and not that 12 year boy of my friends. I would not have done it that way were I God.

When the “heal me“ prayer meeting showed no signs of finishing, I headed home. Who knows when it ended. Last thing I was told that one said was, ”I came to get my healing tonight, and we are going to keeping praying until it happens.“ I think God is immune to such pressure. He is God. A God who definitely heals (I am a living breathing example of His healing power) but He does it on His terms, not ours.

The chicken's toes

Language is a funny thing. We went to a little food dive called Byre and sat down under the canopy to have a bite of dinner after Brenda’s big women’s conference that she was leading. There were three of us sitting there and getting ready to order. I ordered a special Breaded Chicken dish and the waiter said, “Oh you want chicken toes.” Brenda said, “Chicken toes????” “Yes chicken toes.”

This caused no small amount of conversation at our table while we waited to see exactly what I would be getting for supper. I imagined the worst it could be would be something like chicken feet that I have had at many an Asian dive . . . and although they have little (read none) meat on them, they are still considered a delicacy. I will admit freely that I don’t get it when it comes to chicken feet, but then again, I am not Asian.

So when my meal arrives, they clearly are not chicken toes, but in fact are chicken fingers (which chickens also do not have). Interestingly enough, Macedonian language uses the same exact word for fingers and toes, thus our confusion. I wonder why we never have a dish called ”chicken feathers“ or ”chicken skin“ or ”chicken beaks“ all of which a chicken actually has.

The moral of this story is that you can frame any subject with any number of positive or negative words that actually have little to do with the substance. I hope that I never do that in relationship to spiritual things. Perhaps that would be called sin.

uuuummh, that smells good!

While he may only be 8 and a half years old, Stefan has a keen nose for good food. And here he was, hanging onto my fence, breathing the intoxicating smell into his lungs as deeply as he could. “Did you know” he said to me in his very grown-up manner of speaking, “that the smell of roasting peppers is probably the best smell in the entire world?” I could not possibly agree more. That is why I almost always roast peppers when I have some meat marinating nearby. The smell is divine.

Three times Stefan came by and said to me, “wow that smells good!” In fact just writing this story down for you is making my mouth water for more!

I so wish for my life to be that kind of “wow that smells good” kind of life. I wish that my life were the kind that had that effect on people. That they would come back over and over again, just for another whiff, and to say, “wow that smells great.” That people would want to be with me, because the anticipation of what is to come is irresistible. I think those are the kinds of people He wants us to be. Make me so Father, make me so.

the roar of crickets

It is just like a sonic buzz. You can’t hear yourself think. You can feel the vibration in your bones. It is the chorus of millions of crickets singing to one another, unfettered by the concerns of who might be listening, who might be near by, what hour it might be, what anyone else thinks, how comfortable or uncomfortable they may be, or even where they find themselves.

They are doing with enthusiasm, what they were created to do.

The results were a roar.

This was my experience as I rode into the animal preserve. Often it seems like my life is more mouse-like. There aren’t many roars. It is not a volume thing, . . . I have a built-in amplifier. I sing loud and preach louder. It is much more that often all those other elements are missing. I am not unfettered by concerns of who might be listening. I am too concerned about who is nearby. I am too sensitive to what hour it is. I am way too concerned about what others think. My comfort levels often rule my life, and most of the time, where I am, controls my actions.

“But you are not a cricket” someone may observe, and right you are. I am far far more, yet less too, because I have these unneccesary concerns that make me too self-conscious to really be free in any action.

I want to roar about the power and majesty of God. I want to roar about His love for us - even in all our unloveliness. I want to roar about the grace that He gives so freely and that gives us such an amazing life. And I want to roar about Him! Its what we were created to do!

Perhaps my new motto in life should be, Not to be outdone by crickets.

Cherry pickin'

“Uncle! Uncle!” the girls called out to me, “can we take some of the cherries?” “Sure you can” I said, even though the cherry tree does not technically belong to me. . . it belongs to my neighbor. But about a third of it is in my yard, and Mladen, the neighbor, gives me complete access to it. Here is a photo of a bunch of cherries.





I have been baking cherry pies and such pretty much non-stop this week.. But it is the pits, getting the pits out! In fact cherries are a pretty good metaphor for life. No matter how sweet and juicy and wonderful they/it are/is, there are still those darn pits to deal with!

Sitting at my kitchen table de-pitting these piles of cherries always gives me a crick in my back. And even the anticipation of a cherry cobbler does not lessen the pain always. Removing the pits in my life causes me pain too. Especially in the patience it requires.

Patience to get to the fruit, patience to know when the ripe moment has arrived, patience to see the cobbler in what I am doing everyday! Cherry picking seems like lots of fun, but unless you keep a sense of wonder about it, like the girls in the first paragraph, it can be the pits.

The depressing smiling american

You can generally spot an America here from 5 blocks away. And you can often hear them before you can see them. But when you see them (them being American Christians fresh off the boat, er . . . plane) they usually are smiling like nobody’s business. The problem is that in the East, people don’t smile, especially in public.
Even missional people can fall into the “I-have-to-have-a-Jesus-smile-on-my-face-if-I-am-a-real-christian” syndrome. Recently I had one of my Croatian students address this issue in one of her papers that she was writing for me. Renata said:
I need to point to the most common question American missionaries ask "Why are people so depressed here, and how come they are spending so much time in cafes?“ I have a contra question for the missionaries "How can you be smiling all the time, apparently showing interest in people while remaining so reserved?"
Renata saw right to the heart and truth of the matter, that we Western Christians are apparently happy and living correctly at the surface, but that we rarely share what is going on inside of us with others - in other words, we rarely if ever live in true fellowship with others, i.e. no koinonia.
Christians in this part of the world find this to be very depressing. The lack of depth in our Western relationships is an anathema here. Far better to be sad, depressed, down and real than to be smiling and outwardly happy with no true friends.
Of course this is a generalization of Westerners, but one we all will agree has deep substance. Anyone who has been a pastor for any length of time, will quickly tell you that the number one problem with most folks is that they don’t have deep and significant relationships with others outside their nuclear family. Christians here find such persons to generally be the depressing smiling American.

Sleeping in the fast lane

While accomplishing that most usual and standard missionary behavior, i.e. making an airport run, I was racing along as usual and thinking about all the things that need to be accomplished today before I lay me down to sleep. That daunting list took all of my focus and energy until I saw him lying in the fast lane, under the overpass.

Him being a dog, might make this more believable, but I am here to tell you that I have never seen a dog lay down in the road on the highway before. On my little street yes, all the time, but where cars are coming at you regularly at 85-90 miles per hour, never. But there it was, in the shade of the overpass, lying in the fast lane.

I suspect that it is now in doggy paradise/hades depending on your canine-ology . . . they are all going to hades in my view, but nevertheless I had to stop thinking about my overwhelming day, and contemplate why this animal would stop and place itself in the utmost danger.

The conclusion I reached was that like me, it probably did not acknowledge the danger, or perhaps it thought that it need rest and shade more than life (literally), or that (unlike me) everything worth living for had past and this was a fairly quick way to doggy eternity.

I find that when I lay down in the fast lane, I invariably get run over. I need to spend more time praying for, and practicing, wisdom in life. After thinking about this today, I have decided I would rather go in my sleep.

Frog inertia

The dead ones are like a carpet on the road. You can’t imagine how many we are talking about. It was flabbergasting . . . I mean how could so many die? I assumed that they all were mainly killed in the evening and night, because until today, I really had not seen so many during the day when I am out biking and getting my daily exercise.

But I did see a number of them today, and darn, if I did not almost run over them too! I began to see that the frogs either did not see me coming in time to leap away, or they processed the danger so slowly mentally that they were in mortal danger from my not-so-fast mountain bike.

I call this newly observed phenomena, frog inertia. I seem to have it too. I process too slowly when I am in a tempting situation, and then just when I am about to get run over, I almost always leap to safety at the last possible second.

I process too slowly when I am under pressure. Life seems like a runaway freight train and there are too many near misses. I can’t see the danger of going my own direction, and I am especially vulnerable to fast moving wishes and wants, that will flatten me if I don’t make a heroic jump out of their path. Frog inertia can get you killed.

Will God send someone else?

Jovan argued that if he did not follow the call of God on his life to go to the unreached people group, that God would then send someone else. I asked, “who says so? what do you base this on? how do you know?”

Does God always have a second plan? Then why are there over 6000 unreached people groups listed on the Joshuaproject website? Does God have a second or third or fourth plan for them?

Needless to say, this led to a loud and intense discussion in the classroom. There clearly are few second plans in God’s design . . . He is calling . . . people ignore that call . . . people perish into eternity without God, and we sit back expecting God to have a second and third and fourth plan. Well God may, but then again He may not.

I find this sense of universalism growing in the church today. “God will accomplish it.“ ”He will find another way if you don’t go.“ The class was clearly reluctant to agree that most people are hell-bound. Shoot it even sounds harsh to my not so politically correct ears!

It seems to me that God does have a plan . . . you and me. And if we don’t do it, then who is to say that there is someone else to be sent? If you won’t go, who will?

Mayday Mayday!

It is my very favorite Communist holiday of the year! It is the day of nine-hour picnic’s, close interpersonal conversations, grilling out, eating and drinking heartily and in general one of the most relationship-rich days of the year.

Today was a very unique May Day for me, as I am currently at the Seminary in Croatia . . . so this May Day was one of languages . . . we were constantly switching from English to Macedonian to Serbo-Croatian and back to English (with Russian throw in occasionally too, as Lujdimila is from Ukraine). In fact it felt like we were actually speaking some new foreign language that was all four, yet one.

It was also a day of being human. No professorial clothes or attitudes, just kick back and chillax as a human being. The conversations ranged from marathoning to biking to BMI’s to diets to organizational restructuring to which Mission does what best to nursing programs to children and spouses, to what form the assignments are due in tomorrow.

But it was also a day of hanging out and getting a head start on eternity. Heaven has to be like this, cause these were all gifts from God Himself . . . a cobalt blue sky, perfect 70 degree temperatures, the luscious smell of meat grilling, no insects (well not many yet) and good friends. Can you think of a better description of heavenly? It is May Day!

Danger signs - literally

There are all kinds of danger signs . . . here is one for you in this photo. I bet you are wondering how (better yet why!) I am so close. We rarely pay attention to warning signs. I don’t know why. Some people say that it’s just human nature to ignore warning signs and to believe that it could ever happen to you . . . or me. My brother was just telling me how close he came to being blown up by one of these things when he was stationed in Croatia after the war!

This sign says, “Do not walk here, there is a great danger of unexploded mines!”


So why am I standing so close? It’s a good question and for the life of me I don’t have a good (i.e. rational) answer. These signs are everywhere around Osijek, Croatia where I am currently hanging out, teaching at Evangelical Theological Seminary. I must admit that teaching Missiology pales in comparison to mine fields . . . is this a guy thing? huh?

This sign is in English, so you can read it for yourself ☺


So why are these signs up all over the airport in Zurich? Smoking is going to kill you, and so I want to be sure and tell you that, and then provide a special room where you can commit incremental suicide with my assistance. That is what the warning signs really seem to be saying.

So when I read similar warnings in God’s Word, why is it any surprise that my lack of concern for the warning resembles my lackadaisical response to these other warnings? Are there too many warnings in our lives today? Do we not really believe the warnings that are given? Or do we have that fatal human tendency to believe that it can’t happen to us? I don’t really know, but I working through taking God’s warnings more seriously than I do the mine field warnings.

What the cars have been drinking?

She said “Let’s wait for the light, because of the holiday you don’t know what these cars have been drinking!” Drinking indeed! Well contrary to my wife’s misspoken words, the car’s aren’t drinking anything in the Hairy Armpit, but most everyone else does.

It is used to entertain guests, to stimulate discussions, given to babies in their bottles, to give honor to those who have achieved status by doing good in the community, it is in fact the center of practically all social activities in Slavic culture . . . it is impossible for people here to understand a society where drinking is not the center of life and relationships . . . just ask the two fellows I passed this morning at 7:35 am who were having their morning beer at the cafe. They greeted me warmly, and I them . . . passing on their offer to share a beer with them. But since I was not close to them relationally, they were not overly insulted by my refusal to drink with them.

But in most of Europe drinking is the context of social discourse . . . and social discourse is the foundation of relationships . . . and relationships are the foundation of sharing the Truth.

There are certainly people here who abuse alcohol as there are everywhere in the world. The wrecks left in the wake of abuse are heartbreaking and frankly awful. We all have seen them. Many of my friends around the world are working right in the middle of these addiction- wrecks . . . and they can tell you horror story after horror story.

But the reality that we Evangelicals ignore is that those lost in the desperation of addictions (any addiction) are generally a minority . . . the majority partake in social discourse responsibly. Too many people in my line of work lose vast opportunities and access to these relationships because their cars aren’t drinking anything either.

50% of my church relationships are conducted in a completely alcohol-free environment. 95% of my non-church relationships are conducted in an alcohol-included environment. (John 2:10-11; 1 Tim. 5:23; 1 Cor. 9:22-23).

While the cars aren’t drinking, and honestly they aren’t☺, those that Christ died for are . . . and there are already so many barriers to them hearing the Gospel, should we build one more wall for them to climb? What will the wine-making Christ say about that, when we stand before him face to face?

Privacy - interruptions without permission are unwelcome? (Completely present 2)

Promptness can be defined by a clock, only in monochronic cultures. In our western monochronic culture, we have placed values on units of time . . . seconds, minutes, hours, etc . . . . and we place high value on these units . . . therefore you show others that we value them by valuing their units as well. Promptness (clock promptness) and schedules are those things which lead us to live efficiently . . . but is that good?

Polychronic cultures see time as the point where you are at the moment and not something that can be divided into any types of units. Thus time becomes almost irrelevant by the western (monochronic) definition. How you handle time (the place where you are at that moment) in synergy with relationships, determines how you value others. So promptness is not a clock event. Instead the result is multilevel, simultaneous involvement (no one excluded because of time) . . . interruptions are simply part of the rhythm of life.

When all promptness is defined by the relationship rather than the clock, it is actually possible to be completely present. I wrote chapter one of this concept and you can read it here if you wish, but being completely present in this moment, and in no other, is beyond the grasp of most monochronics.

I am currently teaching at the seminary and I can say with authority that 99% of the students here are culturally polychronics. They have no sense of time (in a monochronic sense) and consequently they also have no sense of privacy and respecting my time (in that monochronic sense) because they are not monochronics. They are polychronics. You know you are loved, when you are interrupted constantly, because life (and time) is about relationships. Maybe polychronics have it right after all.

A Marvel of Western Ingenuity

It took me a total of 13 minutes from the moment I arrived at the airport, until I was completely checked and ready to fly. Thirteen minutes! You can’t have this in North American because we are over-challenged in our ability to manage freedom responsibly. This system that allows 13 minute check-in’s, requires a certain attitude to accomplish. It requires everyone to be willing to follow the guidelines ruthlessly. It requires everyone to value everyone else’s time at least as much as they value their own. In fact, if you have no check baggage, it requires exactly zero minutes to check-in, because you can do it all online up to 60 days before and then proceed directly to the gate!

Did I happen to mention that you don’t have a seat number with this airline? So not only did check-in take 13 minutes, but we seated an entire aircraft with almost 200 people in less than 10 minutes. That is right 10 minutes. Because you get on the plane and take any availible seat, moving as far from the aisle as possible to make it easier for the next person to sit. Now if you have ever seen or experienced the 45 minute boarding process used in my least favorite airport in the world for instance, Dulles . . . a 10 minute boarding event is breath-taking!

Oh, did I happen to mention that it is the cheapest airline in the world? Yep, all this speed and for beans!! So how do they do it? Well they pack us like sardines onto the plane ☺. The seats are closer together than a standard airline. So they get more people on per flight than a regular carrier. Also they strongly encourage you to carry on the heaviest bag you can manage to carry. That’s right, they want you to carry your own baggage, rather than they managing your luggage for you.

All in all it was a marvel of ingenuity . . . unless you love the comforts . . . me, I wanna get there and cheaply.

What a day!

I wrote this a few days again, but I think you can handle that . . .Today was about as perfect a day as anyone could have. Today I got to see my son play soccer in a high school game for the first time ever. I imagine that sounds like some small matter to those who get to see their kids play in various sports all the time, but when you live 1200 miles away from your kids . . . it is exceedingly rare for such a thing to happen.

In fact, most missionary parents never get to do what I did today. And I not only cheered for Jake, but also Christine from Macedonia, and Josh from France, and Becki from Russia, and Yoel from Turkey, and Ellen from France, and . . . well you get the picture . . . I was yelling for all the parents that could not be there ever and watch their kids play in a simple game.

Jake was the General out there . . . making sure every person was covered and that the team was safe and protected as well as his defense could make it. They creamed the opposition!




Its great to see him rise to the top . . . especially in light of his challenges in the past. He is becoming quite a man, and I was thrilled to get to see him play today, and see what he is shaping up to be. One thing is for sure, he is becoming a man to be reckoned with, and God has wired him just for such a task.

Once long ago, a psychologist told us that we were the perfect parents for a boy like Jake. But he got it all wrong . . . Jake is the perfect boy for parents like us.

Prop planes over the Alps?!?

Yesterday's flight over the Swiss Alps in an ancient prop plane was over the top . . . just barely. I wasn't sure we were going to gain enough altitude to clear the tallest peaks. In fact I wrote this post while actually looking out this small airplane's window and it seemed to me that I could reach out and grab some snow right off the mountain below us at this moment! Here is a photo for you.




Ok I admit it . . . flying is way overrated. There is just something about being inside a tin can 5 miles above the planet surface . . . that is unnatural. On the other hand I love the speed of air travel, while hating the hassles of airports and especially security in our terroristic world.

The lady sitting beside me was freaking out because she had never ridden in a prop plane before and the extra noise and vibration was scaring her. She fretted with her seatbelt the entire time and was hyper-ventilating some as well. I had to help her get it on in the first place and she seemed to be afraid that I will go to the bathroom or something and then we might start to crash and she not be able to get out of it.

The one-handed child across the aisle is a poster boy for the ADHD society. The person sitting in the seat directly in front of him is currently getting pounded as the boy kicks the chair repeatedly. I think his mother is close to the point of seeing if he can fly with one arm. I feel like I am caught in a Shakespearean comedy, or at least a Mexican soap-opera (which my wife loves to watch).

Now the stewardess is coming through offering us a sandwich. My seatbelt-challenged seatmate asks the stewardess a typically Balkan question about the sandwich . . . "Is it ours?" The implication being that no one else's food products are worthy of consumption. Hopefully the beer she is drinking will relax her a bit and at the very least slow her Croatian down . . . I am having a hard time following her, she speaks so rapidly.

Now to add even more excitement to this overly exciting trip, the stewardess just escorted a passenger into the cockpit . . . at least that made my excitable seatmate stop talking . . . but it put a more worried look in her eye. And I too wonder what is up with three in the cockpit . . . ?

Prayerfully I will survive this trip to Zagreb . . . prayerfully someone will actually be there to pick me up . . . prayfully I will be awake to teach class tomorrow . . . I guess if you are reading this at least we made it over the Alps.

Conflict resolution (my recent experience)

due to a flaming post I wrote recently . . . .

it was interesting to see how different people wanted me to, or thought I should resolve the apparent conflict (although I did not see it as a conflict). But since someone was supposedly offended (no one actually ever wrote me and said "David you offended me"), then I must surely do my part to resolve the conflict (which may have never actually been a conflict). What lots of people did write me was that "IF you had said these things to me, THEN I would have been terribly offended."

Which actions were then expected of me were determined by the point of view (POV) of the advice-giver. Amazingly it was like they fell into two camps . . . the “collectivist” or “individualist” POV of the reader/advice-giver. Missionally these designations are usually used to explain cultural differences, like the difference between North American culture and Thai culture. But I experienced both coming out of North America! Here are the two basic Points of View:






What I found clinically fascinating (it was not experientially fascinating nor pleasurable) was the fact that the POV of the person chiding me or cheering me, determined their suggested next course of action AND each side (POV) used scripture to back up their instructions to me!

While everyone agreed that I was either stupid or brave (again depending on your POV) the fact that scripture was used to support both collectivist's and individualist's POV taught me something very important: that we often read and use and see scripture from our POV, (i.e. our POV informs our understanding of scripture) rather than Scripture informing our POV. This is dangerous, especially in a world that makes Truth very personal and non-absolute. I think I want to be more careful to let the Word of God say what it says, rather than using it as a instrument or weapon for my purposes.