Radars, Cops, and Adam & Eve

I have only been pulled over by the police and ticketed for speeding one time in almost 40 years of driving.

No, I don’t pre-date radar detection devices. (It is true that the more or less common use of them was just coming into its’ own as I was starting to drive.)

The one time was many years ago, but just as fresh as yesterday.

America was in an energy emergency that had driven up gas prices exponentially and led the Federal Government to usurp some power, requiring a 55 mph national speed limit.

I was driving someone from my college in southeastern Kentucky to the closest large airport in Knoxville, TN. The drive up, across, and down Jellico Mountain on I-75 was beautiful, but frustrating.

Classic north/south truck traffic was augmented by regional coal trucks meaning you were going to get behind trucks chugging up the mountain and jostling for position on the long, flat plateau at the top.

Your only hope to achieve that 55 mph speed limit was to hang back, look for empty space, and then dart into it (NASCAR 101).

So, I waited, watched, and jumped into an empty space.

Sadly, I had lost track of where I was on the plateau and found myself in front of all of those trucks just as gravity became their friends.

Now, suddenly, these giant vehicles were pushing me down the other side of the mountain.

More than a little intimidated, I dashed off from the danger only to discover one of Tennessee’s finest perched behind a rock with a newly minted radar gun.

A few minutes later I saw the glare of red and blue lights flashing across my dashboard and heard the blare of a siren coming through the window.

My pulse quickened, my hands perspired, my face flushed, and my heart raced. It was an ugly feeling.  I was embarrassed because…

• my guest knew my sin
• I could make no excuses (a witness in the car)
• I would have to explain this to the college
• the policeman and his radar were right – I was guilty

I remember that moment – those emotions – with such profound clarity that I have never been pulled over for speeding since.

Not that I have never exceeded the speed limit (though my family and friends might find that hard to believe given my reputation of ‘driving like an old man’). However, when I have found myself outside of the limit and seen (or suspected) a radar location up ahead those emotions have washed over me and called me to lift my foot from the accelerator and coast back down to the limit of the law.

The very 1^st story of the Bible is the story of God creating. As long as there is human curiosity, arguments will persist as to how God did it, but at least one point of the story is that God did it.

Once humanity was created, in the initial person of Adam and Eve, they were placed in a simply delightful Garden and given permission to chow down on almost anything.

If you are a Bible reader you know the story of their poor choice. If not, it’s worth the read!

There is a dramatic moment in that story where God walks through the Garden calling out for them.

When God finds them they are hiding (that’s new) and covering themselves (that’s new, too). When God presses how they came to their current state, they pass the buck with the skill of a contemporary politician!

The dialog is laced with untruths – some they had created themselves and some they had bought into from the Adversary.

God asks, “Why are you hiding?”

They answer, “Because we were naked.”

God asks, “And who told you you were naked?”

Adam pointed to Eve, and Eve pointed to the Enemy.

EVER SINCE MY TICKET (and maybe before) I have pictured God in the magnificent Garden of Eden with a moral-radar-gun, hiding behind a bush, waiting for Adam and Eve to mess things up. Then, when they did, I could hear God’s Voice sounding like the voice of the policeman.

Last week I was meditating on this story and heard a different Voice.

I pictured a couple of kids in a simply wonderful kitchen, having been told by their grandparents they could eat anything on the table or in the pantry… just stay out of the cookie jar… those were not for now. The grandparents knew best!

…the grandparents were also wise enough to see what was coming.

Stepping in from some yard work they began to call out for the kids, “Where are you?”

When they walked in the kitchen and saw crumbs on the counter and chocolate smeared across their faces they asked, “What have you been doing?”

When they heard the lame excuses they asked, “Who told you you could have a cookie?”

The story ended with consequences: the kids scooted from the kitchen by their grandparents. However, these were grandparents who cleaned up the mess, cleaned up the kids, and never ever stopped loving them.

In one single afternoon, God challenged an image I had born of Him all my life.

I could almost hear God’s Voice say, “I am so much more like that loving, concerned, crazy-for-you, gifting, best-for-you grandparent than that untrusting, stranger, looking-to-catch-you policeman.”

How do you see God?

If you ask, I believe God will show you.

Coaching, and the Learning Curve

My primary employer keeps upgrading my technology. Each time they do I feel just a wee bit dumber than the last time! I’m always trying to catch up – it seems I am perpetually just behind the learning curve.

You ever feel that way?

The #1, single biggest aid I have found for this feeling is coaching. Indeed, I have become a huge fan of coaching.

Through two very different coaching certification tracks and a number of books and articles, I have learned a lot about coaching.

By taking advantage of coaches in my own life, I have found the value to be absolutely true!

Serving as a coach for others has given me the opportunity to watch them grow, take next steps, attempt great things – not because of my input, but because of their own giftedness, dreams, decisions, and actions!

Along the way, I have been surprised at the number of people I talk to who seem afraid of coaching. They think:

• coaching is like counseling – something people only do when they are in crisis… or
• coaching is like mentoring, requiring a very time-consuming relationship and up-close model… or
• coaching is like consulting with the expectation that you be the expert in all things

Now, coaches differ a lot on how they go about achieving desired ends – how much telling they will do as opposed to how many questions they prefer to ask; what is a good, healthy length for a coaching covenant; and so on.

Yet, with all of their diversity, they do all seem to agree on one thing:

Coaching assumes a degree of health on the part of coachees (clients)… a desire to move forward in their life or profession that is not supplanted by some paralyzing dysfunction.

So, when someone seeks out a coach they are not-so-much trying to fix something from their past as they are leaning into their future… a future that is filled with wonderful unknowns, exciting adventures, and the ever-present need to keep on learning.

One of the organizations that I am certified through is Creative Results Management. Their chief executive officer, Keith Webb, recently posted an article about this constant need for learning that I think is spot on. So I wanted to share it with you.

As you read, consider where you are in life right now, think about the implications of some of the declarations that are made, and ask yourself the questions Keith raises. I’ll meet you back at the end of the article. Enjoy!

Continuous Learning

By Keith E. Webb

Traditionally, what a person learned as a young adult would serve them in their profession the rest of their lives. This is no longer true.

“What individuals have learned by age twenty-one,” wrote Peter Drucker, “will begin to become obsolete five to ten years later and will have to be replaced – or at least refurbished – by new learning, new skills, new knowledge.” How much more so by age 31, 41, or 51!

The world is becoming more complex by the day. Change is everywhere and relentless.

• That “high-tech” website of five years ago is a dinosaur today.
• The skills to lead a team have changed significantly with the increase in virtual teams.
• The directive style we admired in leaders of yesterday is now considered disempowering.

What do we do? Keep learning!

The past 8 years, I have been on a journey in retooling of my work, communication skills, and leadership style. And I know there is nothing but more change ahead of me. Three things have helped.

Accept Change
Embrace the fact that 80% of how you are doing things now will change in the next 10 years, perhaps change several times. Values and meaning will continue throughout but using different forms.

Learn As You Go
You most likely don’t need a formal degree, just continued learning. Many professions require 40 hours of continuing education every year or so to maintain a credential. It’s a good number to shoot for. Attend a conference, a workshop, or a training event. Don’t dabble with a 1/2 day or 1 day training, take enough to really learn it.

Get Coaching
Coaching is extremely helpful in seeing new perspectives on old problems and getting into action in new ways. A large part of coaching is in helping people to find ways to learn what they need to move forward.

How About You?

• What do you need to “retool” in your leadership style?
• What’s one place you are settling for “good enough” rather than excellence in your work?
• Where will you look to find the help you need to move forward?

Copyright © 2012 Keith E. Webb & CRM

Dr. Keith E. Webb is a trainer and experienced cross-cultural leadership coach helping organizations, teams, and individuals multiply their cross-cultural impact. Find free articles at http://www.CreativeResultsManagement.com.

Wow…

• What you learned in order to launch is obsolete in 5-10 years?
• The most effective style of leadership is dynamic rather than fixed?
• 80% of how you are doing things now will change in the next 10 years – perhaps even multiple times?

Those are some sobering thoughts for anyone; and terrifying thoughts for anyone who despises change.

I have found the best way to see opportunities to improve my leadership style or objectively see areas in my work where I can move from good enough to excellence is through coaching conversations – informal or formal.

So, here’s my advice to all of us: find a coach!

• Whether it is a casual relationship with a trusted friend who can remain objective in helping you see the proverbial ‘other hand,’ or
• a covenant relationship with a certified coach who will keep asking questions until you have identified actions you want to take then meet you on the other side of those actions to ask how it went

…find a coach.

There are lots of sources for coaches (just Google!). I would even be glad to share my process with you if you’re interested. Just email me at simplymillwood@gmail.com

“It’s Called B-R-E-A-D”

…that was Adele’s slow tongue-in-cheek response to my question.

I was chewing a bite of limpa when I asked, “What exactly is this?”

Let me back up a minute. During the holidays we bought a cookbook titled Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day.

Adele checked it out of the library for the first time back in the Fall and, after renewing it for weeks, we began to compare the cost of ownership with the cost of fuel to drive back-and-forth to the library. So we bought it.

The title is a little misnomer – it takes more than 5 minutes a day to bake fresh, artisan bread. But the authors have developed a system that puts most of the work into one day for setting up the dough, before storing it in the fridge. After that day the preparation is only about 5 minutes (bake time varies).

[I personally think it was my grandmother who actually developed that system – she did all of her cooking on Saturday and ate on the spoils throughout the rest of the week (sometimes on the spoiled, not altogether trusting refrigeration).]

During the holidays we made a few seasonal selections and completely enjoyed baking, eating, and sharing the bread with friends and neighbors.

After most of the Christmas trees were put away (yes, I still have 2 up), the seasonal selection plan turned into a new year’s resolution: Let’s work our way through the book, baking a new, artisan bread every couple of weeks until we’ve tried them all.

The bread-of-the-week was called limpa. It is described as a “traditional Scandinavian comfort food.”

I grew up with bread, so I know what bread tastes like. AND, I know there are different kinds of bread.

The staples at my home-of-origin were four:

• buttermilk biscuits: homemade, served hot, almost always buttered, but they could be accompanied by grape jelly, apple butter, sorghum syrup or (wait for it…) ketchup

• sliced bread: white and soft with a little crust on it (that had to be cut away for the perfect PB&J), came from the store in a yellow plastic bag, and accompanied any full course meal that didn’t have biscuits

• cornbread: not out of a box, but also scratch-made – especially my grandmother’s, which included cracklins and was baked in cast iron (at the fireplace through the winter)… classic southern cornbread – the kind that would suck 80% of the moisture right out of your body, and

• doughnuts: a delicacy usually reserved for a Sunday morning or some other special occasion

After I married, Adele taught me about Yankee cornbread (which we called cake where I grew up). She introduced me to wheat bread and rye bread. When we moved to Louisiana we started using French bread (though I never liked the dry kind they use for po-boys), Italian bread, and French doughnuts, called beignets. A few years back I had my first Challah bread –French Toast made with it at the Marietta Diner – mmmmm.

So, I entered this year of artisan experimentation pretty sure I knew what bread was.

Nothing, however, prepared me for limpa.

Adele got so tickled with my frustration that she pushed me to try to put words to my confusion.

I came up with 2 reasons:

First, it didn’t fit any category for bread that I had developed over 53 years of consuming copious amounts of bread!

It wasn’t really sweet, but it certainly wasn’t savory. It was crunchy, but also chewy. It was not dry at all – but it wasn’t moist either. It was dense and airy. I searched and searched but could not find a file to put it in.

Second, every time I thought I had a file, the limpa moved on me!

By eating the little loaf over a few days, it was able to keep me off-balance. At first the liquorish flavor of the anise was what settled as the flavor. But by day two the anise had so mixed with the orange zest that it was like a citrus liquorish (which I have never had). On day three the cardamom had risen to the surface, giving a more herbal, spicy flavor top billing. Finally, the 4^th and last day, the honey and sugar gave it a wonderful, warm sweet-bread finish.

No past-category to plug it into and organic/dynamic – very in-the-moment… no bread I have ever had was like that. So I was flabbergasted to declare it bread.

I believe this is also why I sometimes have a hard time describing faith in Jesus to people.

I know everyone has a religion file system in their heads… something they have built over a lifetime. Some of it likely came from their family-of-origin (biscuits and sliced bread). Some of it has come from living around different people in different places (Yankee cornbread and Louisiana French bread). Some it has come from their own experiments (our journey through the artisan bread book).

But, it’s there… I know because I have one as well. And, frankly, I am learning that following Jesus doesn’t fit any of the categories I’ve experimented with, studied, or talked with others about.

So, when I try to describe it, they don’t seem to have a place to file what I’m saying.

Past that, since I am following Jesus, this journey has become an amazingly dynamic, organic thing.

It wasn’t always that way for me – I spent decades squeezing the relationship out of faith, settling for either a religion or a religious experience – or both. Either way, I was the master of it all so there was nothing surprisingly organic or dynamic about it.

But now, it moves on me… or, more precisely, He moves on me. Just when I think I have Him all figured out and categorized, He surprises me.

I guess none of this should come as a shock to me. Jesus once famously said, “”I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more, ever.” (John 6:35, the message)

That doesn’t fit any file – and it’s pretty darn dynamic!

Now, to a fresh loaf of limpa.

Addressing Christmas Blues

…so, my buddy, CB, always gets depressed this time of year.

According to a host of counselors, psychologists, and psychiatrists, he’s not alone.  

Studies differ on the percentages, but agree that feelings of anxiety and sadness are elevated during the holiday season. The reasons given range from:

• fatigue (given the schedules many people set for this time of year), to
• fewer hours of daylight (our bodies produce Vitamin D from sunlight and, according to too many medical studies to cite, Vitamin D impacts our mood), to
• financial limitations (which may be true the whole year through, but folks are more keenly aware of it due to social expectations surrounding gift-giving and party-going), to
• family tension (if this is you, there is no explanation necessary)

…and all sorts of things in between!

Even Elvis Presley warned listeners of the risk of a Blue Christmas!!

CB struggles with low self-esteem anyway, but boy does it ramp up in the holiday season – a time of year that he feels is set aside just to remind him that he’s not all that popular… like a Facebook page with a single-digit friends count staring back at you each time you log-in.

CB recognizes, at a very deep place in his soul, that ‘commercialization’ is sort of out-of-control and that Christmas must be about something more.

He knows, at a heart level, the fixation on money and the generally competitive nature about everything from out-giving someone else to winning the neighborhood lights display battle is a dead-end street.

But, his strategy for dealing with all of it (isolation, withdrawal, a judgmental attitude) has not resulted in any sort of holiday cheer or sense of meaning.

So a few years back, he sought the advice of a professional (way before there was Dr. Phil there was Dr. Lucy) who suggested what he needed was involvement (the opposite of his first response).

As a way of getting involved, Chuck took on a task… and not just any task, but the task of directing other people on a task.

Instead of pulling away, Chuck gave himself totally to his task.

But, the people he was trying to direct were distracted by the holiday spirit… they wanted to sing, dance,… CELEBRATE!!

You take a guy who is trying to find his purpose in tasks and make him the director of a bunch of folks who really want to CELEBRATE and you have a recipe for, well, more depression.

Frustration, anger, and deepening sadness… that was CB’s story.

His reaction to the failure of finding joy through involvement, turned to the attempt to rescue an underdog… a little, green, homeless Christmas tree… yet another ‘all about me’ effort.

And, the people he was failing to direct anyway were not nearly as excited about the idea of rescuing a homeless tree so CB could be the hero.

There was just so much confusion regarding what Christmas was all about: commercialization, competition, burying yourself in work, feeling better about yourself by helping an underdog, presents, money….

In frustration, CB cried out, “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?!”

Fortunately for him, he had a friend who was not afraid to step into the center-stage of his life and tell him exactly what Christmas is all about.

If the counselors, psychiatrists, psychologists, and Elvis Presley are right, some of you are feeling a little blue this Christmas season, too.

Part of the reason for all of that is likely, at some soul-level, you are all but certain there is more to Christmas than those things that bothered my buddy Chuck.

Maybe, like him, you have dealt with your mixed emotions by isolating yourself from others, or by burying yourself in your tasks.

Maybe you, too, have found something of a scroogy-little judge living inside of you, looking down at people who are celebrating when you want them to be working.

Since I could do no better than CB’s friend, Linus van Pelt; his message is the one I’ll leave with you this Christmas, 2011:

“Lights please?

And there were, in the same country, shepherds, abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

And lo, the Angel of the LORD came upon them, and the Glory of the LORD shown round about them, and they were sore afraid.

The Angel said unto them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. Unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior; ‘tis Christ the LORD. 

And this shall be a sign unto you, ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in the manger.’

And suddenly there was, with the Angel, a multitude of the Heavenly Hosts, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace; goodwill toward men.’

That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

Indeed.

Merry Christmas!

DECK THE HALLS!

NOTE: The following discourse is directed primarily at people who find themselves in a “we’re just not going to decorate this year” moment. Those of you who are not there might find some help here as you encounter those people yourself!

The halls of our townhouse are thoroughly decked.

• There are 10 trees, some of them decoraTIVE and some of them decoraTED (that’s down from an all-time high of 23 just a few years ago… we are, after all, simplifying). There are trees on all 3 floors and even a Charlie Brown tree with a single, dangling ornament and a little blue blanket!
• There are a dozen Nativities – some as small as an ornament, others about 3 ft tall – some to look at and some to play with.
• “The stockings are hung by the chimney with care…”
• There are lights outside and inside.
• Then there are the little touches Adele adds that makes it just perfect – funny signs, snow globes, Christmas books, a little village over the sliding door, holiday quilts… it’s all very festive!

We took 3, half-days to stroll down memory lane, tell stories, laugh, cry, and worship the Christ of Christmas as we decked our little halls this year.

Along the way I got curious about Christmas decorating and decorations. Here are a few of the things I learned:

People all over the world – particularly those who live farther away from the equator – have historically brought green things inside during the winter time to help lift their spirits. As those people met and embraced Christ, they started finding ways to use the rhythms they were accustomed to as a way of celebrating Incarnation (and other elements of The Story as well – but we’ll stick to Christmas!).

As to the Christmas tree, the stories are many…

One says that the first Christmas tree was birthed by an unnamed monk who used the triangular shape of the local evergreen trees to illustrate the Trinity to students.

Another says that Martin Luther used candles on a small tree as an object lesson, talking about stars twinkling through the dark night when Christ was born.

Yet another says the Christmas tree originated with Boniface. In that story the old saint is making his way through a forest when he comes across the tragedy of a human sacrifice about to take place at the foot of an oak tree. He stops the sacrifice and downs the tree. Then, in the ruins of the oak, he sees a single fir tree still standing. This little tree he used as an illustration to teach “the idolaters” that they could actually cease their ways and worship only Christ – the Bringer of Life ever green.

Whatever the roots, there is general agreement that the Christmas tree was popularized in Germany, embraced in England (Queen Victoria’s husband, Prince Albert, was born in Germany) and came to America from there.

Ornaments all started as further symbols of celebrated life by way of fruit and nuts hung in trees. Hard cookies, gingerbread, and candy canes were added some time later. Then popcorn was strung and cranberries were added for color. All of it depicting life – a gift from God by means of His Christ – to be celebrated!

Hanging stockings by the fire is both decorative and practical – whether they were freshly washed or just wet from a day of slogging about in the snow, they needed to dry! The fireplace was the perfect place for them each evening. The story goes that the generous Nicholas overheard villagers talking of a poor man with 3 daughters who couldn’t afford a single Christmas gift.  Nicholas set aside some money for each of the girls, crept into the house when everyone was asleep (no locks back then, so crept in wasn’t at all cree-py!), noticed the stockings hanging by the fire and decided to deposit the money there.

Live Nativity Scenes date back at least to the 1300’s and Italy, but the carved type for indoor use only go back to the 1600’s and Germany. There the little pieces were used as object lessons to tell The Story of Incarnation.

Burl Ives, in the unforgettable form of a snowman, reminded millions of us each year that ‘silver and gold decorations’ look good on a Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the classic colors of Christmas decorating are green and red. Have you ever wondered why? I’ve already mentioned green is a symbol of life everlasting. Red was favored by early Christ-followers to remember that Jesus came to give His very life as the means to this incredible life.

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop to make my point: There is nothing childish about Christmas decorating.

I have heard wwwwaaaaayyyyyyy too many people say, “we’re just not going to decorate this year.”

Most of them (though not all) are people at or about my age/stage of life… they are what sociologists call empty nesters. Their universally flawed logic goes like this, “Well, the kids are gone.”

To all of them I say: REALLY?

If you spent all those years decorating just for the kids, you were missing the point anyway.

Don’t stop decorating now – start decorating for good reasons…

Decorate to remember – to celebrate – to tell The Story.

Come on… turn off the ’25 Days of Christmas,’ climb out of the Lazy Boy, and Deck Those Halls!!

FA-LA-LA-LA-LA… LA-LA-LA-LA

What’s SO Attractive ABOUT Distraction?

I’ve not written about my Elly May in a while (the Corgi, not ‘the Clampett’).

Elly May is not only our pet, but she is Adele’s service dog.

I have learned a lot about service animals in the last year and counting. For example, generally speaking, there is a two-phase system of certification for such an animal. The first has to do with accessibility training. That seemed to be a sort of personality assessment process combined with building familiarity with a plethora of environments.

This experience involved training, logging copious hours under the watchful eye of a certifying organization, and an extensive and rigorous (3-4 hour) final exam. The process was almost 1 year.

The 2^nd level (which started more informally in the final stages of the 1^st level) has to do with the actual skills Elly May is being trained for – her hearing tasks. She will ultimately provide about a dozen hearing services for Adele.

Although she recently passed phase one with flying colors, she still has enough dog in her that – absent the vest – she will easily become distracted by a handful of very specific stimuli. To be exact, there are three that drive her crazy:

The first is pretty much only this time of year. She loves almost all weather – she doesn’t care that much for direct summer sunlight, but she is silly over snow, relishes rain, and wild about the wind.

Which brings me to her Autumn distraction: leaves. If she is de-vested, on a simple walk around the neighborhood, she jumps at leaves, chases leaves, grabs a mouthful of leaves and tosses leaves into the wind. She is no respecter of color… green, yellow, orange, red… her only weakness is she loves the next one more than the one she just caught.

Her second distraction is year-round, inside, and exclusive to our house. She can be anywhere on the 3 floors of the townhouse, but it you flap open a plastic trash bag she will come charging – barking – bouncing. It is very entertaining. It can’t be the sight of the white bag filling with air before dropping into the trash can because she comes to the sound. I guess it could be that wind thing on an interior level.

Now, she has seasonal relief from the leaf distraction. And, she has days of relief between trash bag exchanges. But her last distraction is sadly always with her.

Farmers in Pembrokeshire, Wales believed that the shorter the tail the less entangled a herding dog might become with various animals that s/he herded or with other environmental dangers.

So, over the years, the tail was all but bred out of the dog. If the nub is longer than 2 inches, breeders today will still bob or dock the tail within 5 days of birth.

All of that detail to say, by the time we saw and picked up Elly May she was tailless. She has no memory of ever having any sort of tail. In fact, I don’t know if her tail even required bobbing. All I know is she doesn’t have one.

Which brings me to her third distraction: She chases her… uh… well… where her tail could have been!

She will, when de-vested, at random times and requiring no specific stimuli, jump up and start running in circles in a senseless attempt to grab hold of that which does not exist: her tail.

It is a distraction precisely because it is imagined – maybe she suffers from tail envy after going down to the dog park.

In spite of the fact that Elly May is focused enough to pass the rigors of accessibility training as a fully certified service dog, she is still – from time to time – distracted!

I’m pretty sure I could not pass the accessibility training. I have no desire to ride up and down elevators endlessly or lay on the floor at a busy restaurant for 2 hours. And I certainly don’t want to walk beside a buggy at the local Wal-Mart for any length of time.

So, while I am amazed that Elly May could be so easily distracted by leaves, bags, and tail-less-ness, I’m not too surprised that I get distracted.

But I do wonder why I find distraction so attractive. Why does an hour of silence seem like a year? Why do I have to make noise in the car when there is no one there but me? Why is it that I simply cannot sit still for a very long period of time? I stretch and wiggle and make “spider on a mirror” hand motions and…

What is so darn (PG version of the post) attractive about distraction?

Obviously distraction can provide some relief from excessively intense assignments and defuse heated moments and remind me of a world much bigger than me. And those all seem like good things.

But, when I really do want to focus – maybe to sit with Our Father or really listen to someone else – why is it that I am so easily drawn away from the moment by distractions?

I am early in my pursuits here. Join me?

MLB, Relief Pitchers, & me…

The American and National League Championship Series’ are about over. Regardless of the victors the World Series starts October 19^th… this week!

September and the play-offs have been filled with drama: from the collapse of the Braves and Red Sox coinciding with the rise of the Cardinals and Rays; to the stumbling, 1^st-round falls of the teams with the 2 highest payrolls; to walk-off grand slams and multiply extra inning games. It has been a lot of fun!

I’ve found my mind meandering to the bullpens and the role of the relief pitcher these days!

Did you know there was a time in major league baseball when relief pitchers were the last option rather than the first choice?

In the earliest days of baseball the relief pitcher was to the starter as the designated hitter is to the position player now.

In most cases today, the designated hitter (American League only) is a position player who has slowed down on the field, either because of age or injury, but still wields a good bat!

In the early days of baseball, the relief pitcher was a starting pitcher who, because of age or injury, was unable to pitch a whole game. He was relegated to the bullpen to sit out his years. He entered games late always due to injury or fatigue of a starter, not strategically. He was the last option, but the storyline was the starter – how he did; why he left the game.

Nowadays, the relief pitcher is a specialist. This transition seemed to start in the 1960’s and ramped up in the 1970’s.

There are left-handed specialists, right-handed specialists, middle relief guys (who usually pitch a number of innings), set-up men (7^th and/or 8^th inning guys), and closers. Closers have a careful, balanced mix of three key ingredients: 2-3 really good pitches; control of those pitches; and a put-me-in-coach, adrenalin-addicted, bulldog mentality.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it does not.

I would argue, as a Braves fan, that the overuse of a trio of relief pitchers along the marathon that is the MLB schedule (O’Flaherty in the 7^th, Venters in the 8^th, and  Kimbrel in the 9^th) left their arms fatigued and contributed to the celebrated-in-St-Louis collapse of September.

In the deciding Game 5 of one division series in NYC last week, the Detroit Tigers and New York Yankees played a great game. [I can say that now because the Yankees lost!] In the game, the Yankees used 7 different pitchers in a 9 inning game. That means the starter plus 6 relief pitchers. Only the starter logged as many as 2 innings. Incredible.

In contrast, the very next night, the Cardinals’ Chris Carpenter pitched a complete-game… no relief pitchers at all!

Have you ever watched the starting pitcher when he is being lifted by the manager? It’s a very interesting study…

Some of them appear humiliated or at least embarrassed. They could not get the job done tonight/today for any number of reasons. They make that long slow walk to the dugout with their eyes staring at blades of grass rather than looking at other players or fans.

Some of them seem angry or at least frustrated. Perhaps they are sure they could finish the game and upset with management for disagreeing with them. Maybe they are mad at the last pitch they threw (the one that ended up in the 3^rd row of the outfield stands).

Others are clearly exhausted. Everything about their posture indicates they have pitched past their human capacity in this game. Their arm is hanging lifeless next to their body. They walk off pensively, reflecting on better decisions they could have made earlier in the game, extending their time on the mound.

A few leave the game with resolve. They know they have given it their best effort. They know their arm is done for the day. They feel the authentic appreciation of the fans and their colleagues. They walk straight. They tip their hats. They stay in the dugout for the rest of the game.

The one thing they all seem to have in common is they do not want to be relieved.

It seems very human of them, doesn’t it?

We all need relief and yet we all resist relief in some ways and at some times.

There is no place in life where that is more certain than when it comes to the quest of the soul. As with any other journey, we could lower our anxiety, elevate our hope, enlarge our capacity to appreciate the beauty along the way, and deepen our admiration of others on the same quest if we would only embrace relief!

And, for those following Christ, relief is available, not only in other believers, but in Christ Himself. He put it this way:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Matthew 11:28-30, the message [emphasis mine]

This seems like incredibly Good News to me. So why do I resist His relief so often?