Leaders are weird.

I was talking with someone today about the fact that leaders are weird. A leader is someone who lives in the same context as others but thinks differently about it than most everyone else. Socially speaking, this can come across in awkward ways.

  • Leaders may not seem to care about the things you think are important. It sounds mean and heartless, but the leader sees what you do not; there are things that go on in other spheres that may be 10 times as crucial to the mission and health of the organization. A good leader will listen and consider, but that doesn’t mean that every request you make out of your concern will come to be. My job as a follower in this situation is to make my concern known and to then let it be weighed out by someone who knows more than me.
  • Leaders may seem stressed, and that’s not usually good. But you’ve got to hand it to them — they carry a load that is not truly and fully known by anyone but them. Transparency is good and a support system is even better. Leaders need others around them to help carry the load; if they don’t set themselves up with this, then they only have themselves to blame before the fall. Everyone has bad days, and we need someone to helps us through, especially leaders. When I have a bad day, I tend to get tired, snippy, negative, etc. — and that may be because my stapler is jammed. The leader may be acting the same way, not because of a jammed stapler but because budget cuts mean someone is going to lose their job. Your role in that situation is to be supportive and encouraging. Don’t add to their load. Bring up the stapler problem later, or fix it yourself.
  • Leaders have a hard time unwinding. When your brain is so entrenched with the what what of the organization, it’s hard to just jump out of that mode. There are places where I lead and places where I follow. The leadership posts are the things that keep me up at night, enter my mind at the strangest of times (I need to figure out if we’re going to do a retreat or not — which is what crossed my mind while watching “Fraiser”). The places where I follow have much more freedom, which means I can watch Fraiser without worrying about stuff. Leaders have a problem, and that problem is that, well, it’s their problem. It’s always their problem. My role as a follower is, again, to support and make sure that I’m covering my bases, which brings peace to the leader. And, as a leader, I need to be out of the zip code for at least three days before I can truly feel disconnected and out of the trench. The unwind is critical to my ability to go back and lead well. And to watch reruns of Fraiser.
  • Leaders often seem aloof. Disconnected. Lost. Their brains have cogs that run at different speeds and gear ratios than ours. Do they have permission to not care? Absolutely not. Leaders must care; that’s their job. But part of that caring is to be thinking 1 or 2 or 71 steps ahead, which, quite frankly, takes an incredible amount of mental energy. I never thought that, as a leader, part of my job would be to go on a walk and think out loud about the coming ministry season. I do my best thinking when I’m walking alone (literally). Yet, I have had the best ideas while walking with others (figuratively). Leaders seem aloof, but they can’t stay aloof. To lead reality they must be connected. Aloof for a time, but then back to the “think tank”, which is where ideas are tested, and which leads to the last thing…
  • Leaders need a think tank. A think tank is where people gather and banter about ideas. In my office at the church, I get to share a large open space with 3 other people who serve in the same ministry area. I love it. We end up think tanking almost every day, running ideas past each other, thinking out loud to another informed human being, and just hearing our ideas tossed back at us. It’s good. I really can’t imagine being stuck in an office by myself anymore. I once thought that the think tank would still work because people would drop by. But, to my surprise, think thanking happens accidentally and by chance. We just happened to be talking about something we saw in Church Production Magazine, which led to an idea for stage setup. Would that have happened if we were in separate rooms? Probably not. I need that time, where my walking aloof comes back to earth and I can say “You know, I was thinking about this…“. Leaders must have a place where they can collaborate and share the thought process. We are often brought to the light in this kind of setting. Plus, it saves energy, footsteps and e-mails.
  • It was John Maxwell himself who introduced the whole idea of “leadership” to me. I studied it for my Master’s degree. I have tried to live it out in the past 10 years of ministry. I feel like I’m just now coming to grips with what practices are important, and why leaders act the way they do. It is because leaders are weird that it can never be about the leader. Amen? May God be honored by godly leadership that, above all personality quirks, points people to Him.

    RiP, iPhone

    After 19 months of faithful service, finger taps, phone calls, e-mails, texts, pictures and a drop or 2, my iPhone has, sadly, bit the dust.

    I watched it happen — slowly and painfully. First, the home button stopped working. This phenomenon actually started yesterday and was a hint that things were not looking good for my plans to have it hold on until January of 2010. Like a Windows user, I naturally chalked this up to the need to reboot. Alas, this did not remedy the problem, again, like a Windows user. Then I plugged it in to reload its system software, as someone mentioned that the 3.0 update was causing some 1st generation iPhones to overheat.

    And overheat it did.

    Upon plugging in my iPhone to my cheese grater Mac G5, I smelled burning. Yup– it was coming from ol’ iPhone. I unplugged it and, thinking that perhaps a piece of gum wrapper foil or something had become lodged, gave it a gentle thud against the desk.

    This wasn’t a good idea.

    I watched my screen slowly — painfully slow — go from a regular e-mail screen to a greyish/white screen. It wasn’t a blink, it was a gruesome moment of watching an old friend slowly slip back into the arms of Steve Jobs. It’s sitting on the desk now, on a sort of Universal Serial Bus Life Support, waiting for me to pull the plug.

    It’s horrendous, I know. It’s also a little too much like real life. What can I say? It’s the best phone I’ve ever owned, an extension of my pocket and a harvester/keeper of all pertinent information. And here it is, staring back at me, comatose, waiting for the inevitable.

    They make this look so much easier on TV.

    And here I sit. I’m not sure what to do next.

    A Week at Camp

    Being at a camp gives you perspective. I didn’t even actually camp — you know, with the traditional tent, sleeping bag and interaction with horrible, horrible nature*. A friend and I merely showed up, ate camp food, talked to campers, sang some songs and left to go back to our non-camping themed homes. But I experienced some camping joy when I saw high school students fully engaged in Worship. I was pretty thrilled to have conversations with teens about God and living the life. There are a few who are going back home to situations that push against their faith in ways we couldn’t imagine. Their courage and commitment (and, in some cases, recommitment) to the Lord are amazing.

    songs-a-plenty

    songs-a-plenty

    talk-a-plenty

    talk-a-plenty

    ————————————-
    *Not all nature is horrible; just snakes and bitey squirrels.

    Camp Juice

    I’m speaking/worship leading at a camp this week with a buddy. Last night was the kickoff, where 76 9-12th graders and their parents swarmed the campground, ate a meal together, and then said their goodbyes for the week. It is a ceremony which involves hugs, hamburgers, hot dogs and camp juice.

    Mmmm… camp juice. So red. So sweet. So stainy to the upper-lip.

    Don’t ask for it at a restaurant. No store has it in stock. You can’t even make it at home, since the ingredients for camp juice can only be gotten at a camp ground. It’s the definition of delicious, the concoction of camping, the liquid of life at camp — it is truly the flavor of the week, that mix of fruit, sugar and lake water that has (probably) been boiled. It is an energy supplement and an antibiotic, giving campers the needed strength to run the ropes course while, at the same time, fighting off the effects of Malaria.

    I’m rejoicing because of camp juice, yes — but even better is the fact that some campers made some big Spiritual decisions last night — what a great way to start a week at camp.

    Adam Goes to Dentist

    I sat in a dentist’s chair for over 5 hours yesterday, though I can only remember bits and pieces totaling 30 seconds, thanks to a powdery substance placed under my tongue which was preceded by my signature on a release form. I don’t remember the name of the medication that brings about amnesia, but that’s okay. I guess it worked then, eh? I don’t remember the fillings, the crown, the bridge or the dental banter which, in the past, has always given me bad dreams. “Okay, Robert. We’re going to use the gouger here to make sure your nerve endings are still able to respond to stimulus”, etc. I go to an excellent dentist now, so I’m sure that this never came up, though, if it did, I sure don’t remember it.

    From what I’m told by my lovely wife Emily, this sedation dentistry has its own side effects at home after the procedure is done and, well, forgotten. For example, she reports that I looked at our third child, Zachary, and asked aloud “now, which one is this?”. I guess I also declared –repeatedly– that I was way more aware and “with it” this time than last, so I should probably do things like drive a car, clean out the gutters, call distant relatives and go down to the post office and help them sort mail. I was like a 300 lb infant playing around the stairs. What would they have really done had I decided to put my weight into it and go get some Ice Cream? This is why I believe that some families should be given some sort of dart gun that they use when the zoo has a breach, just in case. Fortunately, Emily is a conscientious, wonderful and loving woman who I can trust with everything, including a forgotten Friday.

    Now… if only I could remember where I put my keys.