This group of boys were at varying stages in their spiritual journeys. Some of the leaders of the group had been involved with Christian discipleship for several years. Others were not believers at all, yet and were still asking a lot of questions. And yet others were somewhere in the middle. This was the iron-sharpens-iron kind of discipleship that I think is best for young men. They don't need a lot of books and notebooks and study sessions. They need a Bible and one another and people who are willing to help speak God's word into their lives with firmness and without judgement.

I will miss Thursday nights, because I will miss these boys.

On the last night we met, one of the newest ... and one of the youngest ... showed up a little late for the fellowship. Actually the fellowship was over and everyone had left when I heard the knock at the door at near 10:00 PM. I thought maybe one of the others had forgotten something, and was surprised to find the small bespectacled kid standing at the door. I invited him in and he gave me a hug as he proceeded to hang up his coat and take off his shoes. I told him that everyone had left, and he said, that's okay, he wanted to come by and meet us anyway.

Renee', being much more attuned to these things, immediately saw a reason he came. As he turned the corner and saw that our table was empty and the food had been finished off, she watched his eyes fall. It doesn't matter how many boys are there, whether it's three or ten ... they eat all the food. This young man was too late. Now, I didn't see his downcast expression, but offered him an orange and something to drink, which is just good manners in Mongolia. We talked for a little while. Small talk really. School. Girls. Music (this kid loves music). Finally he stopped, near mid sentence and said, "Bernie ah, do you have anything to eat. I'm really hungry." Renee' jumped into action, grabbing the few random ingredients we had left in our near empty fridge, and made a pepperoni breakfast burrito (hey, it was what we had) that was an instant hit, and filled this kid's stomach.

While he ate we talked some more.

This is what he told me: Bernie ahaa (That's the Mongolian word for "Older Brother" or, literally, "My Brother, Bernie"... it's an endearing piece of Mongolian culture, and I will deeply miss being called "Bernie Ahaa"), you know that I am not a Christian. But some of these other guys have explained a lot to me about what it means to be a believer. I want you to know that I am about 80% sure this is true, and am thinking about being a Christian soon.

I smiled and told him that's great and that, in the end, he has to be the one to make the decision to follow Jesus - 100%. Talk to the other guys some more. Ask them why they believe. Read the Bible, and you make the call for yourself.

He attended a Mongolian Church for the first time the previous Sunday.

I thought this was a good story to use to end our story on this website. Mainly because this young man's story is not finished. He's only 17 years old. He has a life ahead of him. And he will need to decide how he will live it.

I don't know how his story will end. And right now, I am deeply aware that our story is not finished, either.

Renee' and I have officially left Mongolia with our current organization (In fact I am writing this in an airplane flying 36,000 feet over Russia). We have no idea what's next. But I do know the story doesn't end here. In fact, we are all just so many unfinished stories.

My hope is that whatever happens, there will be someone who will remember Mongolia. Remember these boys. Remember the fatherless. Remember the young ladies who may never find a husband for making the choice to follow Jesus. Remember homeless children and alcoholics. Remember a church that needs encouragement and strengthening and equipping. Remember young people who need Jesus.

Remember Mongolia. Please.

If you are interested in continuing to follow our personal journey, we have created a new little spot on the Internet. Like our lives, it's currently a work in progress, but I hope to have things tidied up there soon.

I may add some things here from time to time. Maybe. I don't know what will happen next, but I cannot imagine Mongolia not being a part of our life. I just left at least half of my heart at the Chingess Khan International Airport.

I will never be able to forget.

I think that would be a good condition in which to leave this earth, no matter how old or young; to be able to say, "I have no regrets" is a very good thing. I respect that. In fact, I would say that I even strive for that. We all want to live a "no regrets" kind of life.

The problem with this is that I think we sometimes think about these kinds of things at a macro-level and fail to see the how it works out in ordinary life. I don't regret the big decisions I've made in life. I have no regrets that I've chosen to be a Jesus-Follower. I don't regret marrying my wife of nearly 25 years. I don't regret the vocational choices I've made. I am glad that I went into ministry. I still deeply love the church we pastored in Tennessee, and I don't regret dragging my wife and children across the globe to Mongolia. Not for a minute. I am fairly certain I will not regret the decision we made to leave Mongolia when we did, even though right now as I write this there is a lot of pain involved with that decision. A lot of pain. But no regret.

But the fact is, when you want to get right down to it, I do things I regret ever day and if you're reading this, you do too. In fact, for any of us to honestly say "I have no regrets" would be a confession of perfection that could borderline on downright devilish arrogance. We all have regrets. We have to.

I regret every time I was angry with my wife - and maybe even regret more the times I was angry with my children. Especially while they were still children.

I regret every covetous and lustful thought I've ever had.

I regret every time I've told a lie, or at best colored the truth so that I could play a situation to my advantage.

I regret wasted time. And I've wasted a lot of time.

I regret not accomplishing more with my life; mainly because of the wasted time and the failure to take advantage of God-afforded opportunities.

I regret the times that I talked and didn't act.

More specifically, I really regret that I've tended to only talk about writing more, rather than actually writing more. I wish I'd have written more at this point in my life.

I regret every morning that I don't take advantage of.

I regret so many things I've said to people that caused them woundedness from my tongue.

I regret every time I've blamed others, and failed to take responsibility for my own actions.

I regret the times I've over-eaten and showed a lack of self-control. A bowl of ice cream and a bag of extra-buttered microwave popcorn every night before bed is not good or necessary (yes, I did that at one point).

I regret the times I've allowed my moods and emotions dictate how I treat people, and have thus caused individuals to feel unworthy, unloved and uncared for.

I regret every time I've made someone feel unloved and uncared for, for any reason.

I regret pressing send on at least a couple of dozen or so emails that caused pain and chaos in the lives the people I care about. Could even be more than that, but I will say that I'm a lot more careful with email these days, so thankfully it doesn't happen quite as much as it used to.

I regret not praying more and waiting more on issues where I reacted at an emotional level and caused undue stress levels on my family, my loved ones and myself.

I regret making choices the moved me away from a relationship with Jesus rather than simply choosing to move into a closer relationship with Jesus.

Need I go on? I have lots of regrets. I'm guessing that if you're honest, you do to.

I was recently sent an article that I can commend to you on how to live life with less regret by not putting ourselves into positions where regret is almost guaranteed. I think it's a good thing to avoid having regrets whenever possible. But what about the things we already regret? The things we've already done. I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

Paul talks about a "sorrow" ... or a regret ... that leads to repentance. He says it's a Godly sorrow.

For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. II Corinthians 7:10

Regret that leads to repentance, that leads to salvation, that leads to change, that leads to no regrets, in the end. I think that's good. In fact, I think it's essential. Repentance, real repentance, is not just a heady theological understanding of wrong doing. There ought to be a little bit of wincing, a little bit of pain, associated with where we've gone wrong. Sin and repentance can't simply be cerebral. There ought to be a spiritual and emotional element that grieves over wrongdoing, and the experience of real sorrow and regret. That's what will lead to change. Change in me. Change for others.

Don't hear me wrong. I am not saying we should live for regret. I'm not saying that we should continue in sin so that grace may abound or any other such heresy. I am saying that when we do the thing that brings on regret (and we will do it) , embrace it. Feel the sorrow. Repent. Repentance brings life. And there are no regrets in that.

I took the road less traveled, now I have no idea where I am.

This is mostly a jab at my terrible sense of direction. However, I also know that it kind of describes my life at the moment. Sometimes life has these defining moments when you know that a decision must be made, and once that decision is made, there is no turning back. No place to go but forward. Those defining moments can be looked back on as turning points. Serendipitous. The proverbial fork in the road.

When William Borden wrote the words "No Retreat" in his Bible, he was facing this kind of flashpoint in his own life. He had made the decision to leave his fortune and move to China. His Father was not at all happy about this decision, and informed him that he would no longer be allowed to work at the company business. No turning back, no turning back. All that.

There are occasions when the "no retreat" rallying cry is appropriate. Inspiring even.

However, "no retreat" can also stem out another source, that runs deeper than our own commitment, and suprisingly evil. When "no retreat" is rooted in pride, this can result in some of the most foolish decisions ever made by an individual or, since the word does have military etymology, it's ruined many an army. John Bell Hood at the Battle of Franklin), during the American Civil War, being a notorious example.

Retreat can be good. It can even be life-saving.

I am discovering this as we close out our time in Mongolia. Just to be clear, yes, we are leaving Mongolia with our current organization. It is unclear at this point if we will be back. It's actually unclear at this point what even the next step will be. However, I have come to view this as something of a strategic retreat. There is a part of me that would like to push on here in Mongolia. Move ahead in spite of the difficulties. I can even come up with some pretty good reasons to stay. Mainly the Mongolian youth and Mongolian friends that we've come to love and cherish so dearly. Every day, as we march closer to our departure date, I am becoming more painfully aware of the impending separation, and I dread it.

But taking on a "no retreat" stance here, would be both arrogant and foolish. It's time to take a step back. It's time to take some coordinates, hear from the Commander, get some fresh supplies and maybe even find a little healing in the process. Pushing on with a "no retreat" mentality would prove dangerous and deadly for those I love, and for myself.

Jesus took retreats. Mark says that he went to a "desolate place" (Mark 1:35) to be alone and to pray. Sometimes our evangelical tendency to commitment theology likes to highlight how Jesus "set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51). What we fail to take note of is how many times Jesus avoided Jerusalem, and crowds and stoning, because his time had not yet come.

In the end, I think that's just it. It's not just about using our hours, days and years well. Time must also be used appropriately. There's a right time for everything. That's the whole point of Ecclesiastes 3. A time for "every purpose under heaven".

And sometimes, its best to simply withdraw and face the battle front later with refreshment and strength. Or maybe face a different battle alltogether.

Maybe a bit of a retreat will even help me to figure out where in the world I am, as I do very much enjoy untraveled roads and will more than likely end up on one again, whatever the future may hold.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

 

 

As I grow older, I find more and more that the older people I know in my life have usually been right all along. Wisdom and age and all that, I guess.

It is wise to have reserve.

When we were at the completion of our first term in Mongolia in 2010, my personal "gas tank" was pretty much depleted and I was running on spiritual, emotional and physical fumes. I can remember arriving in the US and for a month I would do crazy things like sleep until Noon. In fact, I remember sleeping a lot. I had no reserve, and the weariness that comes as a result of that was evident. It had been evident in relationships and interactions with people, work and more. It wasn't pretty.

I do resonate with the idea of coming to the end of this life, and having spent it all for the glory and Kingdom of God because I do believe it's what ultimately matters. I am fairly certain that's what William Borden was thinking about when he said "No Reserve." After all, you can't take it with you. It's true.

The problem is ... we don't really know when the end will come. Could be today. But it also could be sometime after we hit the century mark, what with modern medicine and Obamacare and all. Who knows?

Running our emotional and spiritual lives without reserve is a bad idea, for both the short and long term. I found that out at the end of 2010 and I've been careful since then to try and make sure that there's something in the metaphorical "tank". Travelers in the Mongolian countryside will often take multiple gas containers with them, just to have a reserve should they have to be outside the possibility of refill. Emotional and spiritual reserve can be stored in the containers of time, solitude and space.

Time

Every waking hour of every day does not, and in fact should not, be filled with constant activity. Many recent studies show this. Sometimes it's good to just take a nap. Take a walk. Watch a movie. Not everything has to be so intense. Time to just sit and be, rather than do will do wonders to the empty soul.

Solitude

I tend to ride the bus and walk a lot here. One reason for this is because I dislike sitting in traffic. But another reason (and a big reason) is because I need the alone time. I like to grab a coffee. Take a few minutes to sit on a bench in the plaza between the National circus and the State Department Store. People watch on the bus. It gives space for emotional reserve, without which I'm not sure I would have made it through the roller coaster ride that this past term has been. I intend to continue incorporating walking and solitude where I am after I leave here. I need it.

Space

I'm trying to start every day with analog time. This means no computer. Just a bible, a pen, a notebook and/or other kinds of non-electronic material items that I can either read or write with. I am finding that this analog space is extremely helpful. I love working with a computer. In fact, I've become a bit of geek over the years. I love the productivity that is possibly with electronics, and think of it as a God-send, actually. My Mac and my iPhone are great tools. I love them. However, I also need daily space that is tactile. Analog. Old school. I find that this helps me to focus and to think. It fills my tanks. I need that space in my life. And I am finding I need it more all the time.

So, while I have great respect for the spirit of Mr. Borden, I also believe that the 21st century believer needs to be careful of running on empty for extended periods of time. Our culture is one which pushes us to live without reserves. It's why so many people are in debt, working 80 hours per week and getting through the days on depression and anxiety medication with a sleeping pill chaser.

I believe there is a counter-cultural spirituality which would allow for time, solitude and space that will make us more productive for the Kingdom in the long term. Productivity for the Kingdom and busyness for the Kingdom are not the same thing. Not the same thing at all.

What do you do to avoid running on empty? 

"Busyness is an illness of spirit…"

Eugene Peterson 

But as with all things, an end must come.

Our time for living in Mongolia is coming to an end. Renee' and I both feel that God is leading us to something new. We actually don't know what that new thing is yet. However, we do know it is not in Ulaanbaatar in our current capacity. There are many reasons for this; indicators, if you will. I won't get into them all here, but it mostly has to do with trajectory. In any case, we are leaving Mongolia under our current organization.

Currently I'm feeling this enigmatic forward looking sadness. Every week when I meet with the boys for discipleship, or time like the other night when Renee' had a group of girls over to make spaghetti, every "Open Mic" night, I experience waves of grief, thinking about how much I will miss these people who have become so very much a part of our lives. We love them deeply and will be so sad not to have them as a daily part of our lives. On the other hand, Renee' and I will be doing an early celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary in Prague and Wroclaw, Poland, followed by reuniting with our children and family, as well as some dear Mongolian friends who are currently studying in the US. We look forward to that with eagerness.

It's a mixed bag right now.

We will always "remember Mongolia". We have to. Again, it's such an intimate part of our lives. I will be back for sure at some point, as I am planning to do my PhD field work here. Who knows? We might come back for short or long term in some other capacity. It's not like the ability to speak Mongolian is all that useful in most other parts of the world. However, this season is coming to a close. And something new and, at this juncture, unknown is about to begin.

I have been thinking a lot recently; reflecting on our time here. Pondering what the future may hold. In that process, a lot of other thoughts swirl through like the sand in a whirlwind.

For whatever reason, I've been thinking about a somewhat well-known quote by William Borden.

Borden and I share the same birthday, the difference being he was born eighty years before I came around. He (like me) grew up in Chicago and (unlike me) grew up in an affluent family. Perhaps some of you are familiar with "Borden Milk)"? Yeah, it's the same, although the company went under in the 1990s. But it wasn't just dairy products. Borden's father had also amassed a significant amount of wealth with a Colorado silver mine. All that to say, in the early twentieth century, William Borden was heir to a lot of money, and would have been a significntly wealthy and influential member of society.

But he followed Jesus, and left it all to serve muslims in northern China with the China Inland Mission. While he was doing his training in Egypt, he contracted cerebral meningitis and died at the age of 25, never making it to China. His epitaph is moving, and something we could aspire to have said of us:

A man in Christ

He arose and forsook all and followed Him,

Kindly affectioned with brotherly love,

Fervent in spirit serving the Lord,

Rejoicing in hope,

Patient in tribulation,

Instant in prayer,

Communicating to the necessity of saints,

In honour preferring others,

Apart from faith in Christ,

There is no explanation for such a life.

After his death, Borden's Bible was found to contain these words scrawled in pen: "no reserve, no retreat, no regrets"

I've always been kind of moved by this sentiment. In many ways I still very much am.

However, unlike Borden, God has graced me to live longer than 25 years. In fact, I'm not too far from doubling that. While I would never in any way wish to dampen zeal like Borden, I am learning perspective on things like reserve, retreat ... and even regret.

I'm going to write more about this over the next few weeks, as we close our time in Mongolia.

I am also going to be taking the time over the next few weeks to close out this web site. I believe it has run its course and will have served its purpose well. I am not going to take it down. At least not for now. I'll let "Remember Mongolia" keep it's little spot on the Internet. I will always remember Mongolia, and I really want any of you who have followed us to do so, as well. However, after this month there will be no new additions. I am working on a new project (in terms of a personal website), that I will officially "open" at the end of the month. Here's a sneak preview, but bear in mind it's not finished, yet.

I guess "unfinished" is the nature of a lot of things in our life right now.

Stay tuned. More to come.

“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.”

Frank Herbert

 

Jerk.

Or worse.

Character judgment is made on this guy, based on solely his behavior. After all, why not? This guy must be a total arrogant jerk in real life. He has to be. He cut me off.

The reality may be that he is a genuinely nice person with a wife and kids and a dog who had too much coffee and too little sleep, and is now late for work and afraid of losing his job.

Once again, I am guilty of fundamental attribution error. And if I had money to gamble with, I’d be willing to bet that anyone who reads this has also been guilty of it, as well.

Passing judgment on people is something we do all the time. There are perhaps certain times when passing judgement on someone is the right, and maybe even the safe thing to do. However, I think most of the time, we carry the passing of judgement way to far.

I am doing a photography project this year, which involves two different things: 1. Taking a photo every day for one year (This is is known as a “Project 365”). and 2. In the course of the year I’ve determined that I will take a portrait of 100 strangers (You can view my photos along with other people’s “100 Strangers” photos on flickr. It’s actually very interesting!) One of the things I am trying to do with the 100 strangers project is learn to listen to people a little better. Sometimes taking a photo is a good means of doing that. It slows you down. It requires you to look in their eyes. You realize there is a story to tell. If there is no smile, or if there is unfriendliness, or if they refuse my request to take the picture … it’s okay. There may be, and probably are, much deeper reasons as to why people respond to life (and photography) the way they do. Photography is teaching me this about people. The conditions of people’s lives are huge determining factors of their behavior. Context should be considered before judgment is dispensed.

I am convinced that fundamental attribution error is also a huge problem for those of us working cross-culturally. I can remember when I first came to Mongolia and visited the market. My American space-bubble senses were absolutely assaulted with all of the pushing and shoving and maneuvering for position. I can remember going down a narrow aisle trying to look at shoes and feeling someone’s hands on my back physically moving me out the way. I was getting annoyed and was about to turn around and glare and the punk who couldn’t wait for one minute while I looked at a stupid pair of shoes. When I turned around to give him my icy glare, I looked down and realized it was a little old grandmother who simply wanted to slip by me. Didn’t have the heart to glare at her.

I soon came to realize that in Mongolian culture, this is just the way it is. A hand in the small of the back coupled with a slight and forceable push is merely a way of saying, “Excuse me, I need to get by”. The people who do this are not evil or selfish or even impatient. There is nothing wrong with their “character”. This is just a part of the culture. Cultural understanding will go a long way to combat fundamental attribution error.

Across all cultures, examples abound. The important thing is to withhold character judgment on people who are different from us; those who may think and act differently than we do. Culture will often determine our actions, more than any of us realize. It is ours to withhold judgement. People around us could act the way that they do, not because of an evil bent or lack of character or consideration of others. They may have very different values from me for the simple reason of cultural difference.

My time in Mongolia has caused me to think through these things much more carefully than I used to, and having been on both the giving and receiving side of fundamental attribution error, I am trying very hard to think about these things before I pass judgment on people I don’t know, understand or have even talked to. I’ve also come to realize that it’s important to grant grace to others who mete out judgment on things they don’t know or understand. It’s easy to do, and sometimes it’s hard not to do.

Finally, I’ve learned that one of our ultimate obligations as human beings it to seek out and to understand other human beings. The humility of listening, applied. Fundamental attribution error is not only detrimental to relationships, it comes off as arrogant. The remedy is to listen, understand and withhold judgement. That isn’t easy, especially for those of us who have a tendency to quick assessment and judgment. The problem is that none of us are as smart as we think we are.

Context and culture. Withholding judgement until thoroughly understanding these things would save a lot of folks from a world of pain. While it probably will not keep “wanna-be-Mario” from cutting you off, at least you can place his actions into a more redemptive story. While we will probably have no way of knowing whether or not the story is true, I’m pretty sure we’d all be happier people, and I think this kind of thinking is much more in line with the intent of I Corinthians 13.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. I Corinthians 13:7

But that’s not what this particular blog is supposed to be about at all. So, I’ll get back to my subject.

Even after 25 years, I am amazed at how different we are, yet how well we work together.

Renee’ and I were comparing notes the other day, as we prepared for a couples bible study we are doing with some Mongolian friends of ours. This photo pretty much sums up the results.

It’s funny how very differently we think. Renee’ is organized and systematic. Her notes end up being clean, linear, color-coded charts laid out in her very neat handwriting (my wife has the best handwriting of anyone I know).

My notes? Scattered and random words in my Field Notes brand notebooks (I really do love these notebooks) with lines and arrows, in barely discernable scribbles. There is chaos and random (but ARE they random?) connections on the page, and typically I’ve done this while talking to myself the entire time like an insane person.

We laughed at our differences. However, we ended up coming to many similar conclusions and convictions, and, ultimately, had an excellent Bible study with our friends.

This incident has me thinking a little more this week about the way God has wired our brains. Much research and work has been accomplished surrounding issues like “learning styles” and “multiple intelligence” theory. This is a much larger and more complex subject than a 1000 word blog has any business getting into. However, I do think it’s a subject that should be explored by the individual, and especially those who are involved with cross-cultural work.

Understanding How You Learn - Cross-Culturally

Hind-sight is always 20/20. Maybe even 20/10. When we first came to Mongolia and were sitting in Mongolian language class, Renee’ and I quickly discovered that our learning styles were very different. I am not sure that we had defined them at that point … but we knew we were going to learn Mongolian in very different ways. This became evident to the point of frustration. Thankfully we ended up being in separate classes, or we may not have made it to the 25 year milestone anniversary we are looking forward to at the moment.

I do believe a better understanding of our own learning styles on the front end, would have made us both better language and culture students. Renee’ needed to “see” (she’s a highly visual learner). She perhaps would have been more patient with herself when it came to listening (she’s visual, not aural), and perhaps looked more carefully at strategies for getting the listening part. I would have made sure that I was in a place of constant “usage” from early on … more listening and talking and less writing, but also come up with strategies for getting the “grammar and writing” areas, where my natural inclinations are weaker.

Bottom line, understanding these things would have given us both some advanced warning as to where we’d be strong, where we’d be weak, and we both might have avoided some serious potholes along the way, not only in our personal learning, but in understanding each other. .

This goes for more than how to learn a language. It goes to how to teach a language (this is Renee’s work right now). It even goes with how to learn a culture, which is a never-ending process. I’m finding that self-awareness in this area is critical to success. This goes for students, as well as teachers.

When teaching, I must remember that many (if not most) of the learners in my current context are most likely NOT aural learners like I am. They may not have the intellectual or emotional patience for lectures, listening and an abundance of words. They may have a need to talk, interact, take notes, do something with their hands, see a picture, make a chart or act out what is being taught. I have two friends (you know who you are) who make detailed and intricate drawings while listening to a sermon or sitting in a meeting. It looks like they are not paying a bit of attention to anything that’s happening, but can report back every detail when all is said and done.

It is interesting to read the research being done in the area of learning styles and related studies in multiple intelligence theory. It is perhaps even more useful to understand ourselves, our personal learning style along with the strengths and weakness of potential various intelligences. Gary Thomas takes some of this research and applies it to spirituality and the way individuals might relate to God in an interestesting way. His book Sacred Pathways: Discover Your Soul's Path to God can be a helpful and liberating read in this regard.

Liberating. That’s what understanding this about yourself can be. It eliminates a lot of self-flagellating when I don’t feel as smart as the next guy because I suck at math and have a terrible sense of direction. Logical-mathematical is only one area of intelligence. It keeps me from being critical of the person who can’t keep time when clapping to a song (musical-rhythmical is actually a thing!), when the same person may have great smarts in another area. The modality by which I learn new skills (like language and culture) will be very different from the modality which my wife, or my kids, or my co-workers will learn new skills.

God has wired us all in very different ways.

If properly understood, those differences are what makes marriage … and community … beautiful.

Seriously. I’m done.

You may have heard the whole schpeel about setting “Specific, measureable, obtainable, relevant, time-related” goals. It’s typical corporate-speak (that is now typical modern era church-leadership-speak).

But, for me, no more.

I know. Many people I know would insist that we must be “goal oriented.” (whatever that means). I’m familiar with the arguments for goal setting.

“You will not accomplish anything without setting goals”

“If you don’t have a target, you will hit nothing”

And something, something a “moving target.”

Blah, blah, blah. It all seems a bit clichè to me.

There’s a better way than goal setting, at least the way that “goal setting” is typically accomplished.

When it comes down to it, goal-setting doesn't work, in the same way that “New Year’s Resolutions” don't work. Goals are rarely, if ever, met in the specific ways we typically set them up. We often justify our plans by the feel of forward progress. Maybe we are further along in whatever our objectives may be than if there had been no goals. And while that is possible, I do not believe it to be an effective route to productivity … and, frankly, find it a downright depressing path.

I do believe in having objectives (this a very different concept than that of “goals”). But I’m exploring a contrasting idea in my personal life right now: Goal-setting will ultimately NOT be the practice that helps to achieve my objectives. The activities that will produce real movement in achieving objectives will be having a system and an ethos that advances me in the right direction. I’m finding that life, in general works better when I have less of a “goal-oriented” mindset and more of a “systems-oriented” mindset.

Here’s a recent and specific way this has worked for me.

I had to finish my Masters dissertation. In order to do so by my self-imposed deadline, mathematically speaking, I needed to pump out X number of words every day. So it made sense to give myself a daily “writing goal”. This worked on some days. I’d meet my goal, and feel good about myself, or I’d not meet my goal and feel like a loser. This wasn’t working.

Here’s what did work.

I got up every morning at the same time. Made coffee. Spent some time with my Bible and in prayer. Did two pages of free-writing in my journal. Made more coffee. Then did dissertation writing for several hours. Every morning. After a few short weeks, this became my morning ethos. Every day.

I finished my dissertation, and am receiving excellent feedback.

As I look back, I don’t think I finished because I made specific, measurable, obtainable, relevant, time-related goals. I finished because I had a system and an ethos that worked.

I could give more examples. I could also give lots of examples in the context of ministry (e.g., we “set measurable goals” for things like church-planting, but fail to think through systems which will result in an ethos of discipleship … this happens in US churches and mission fields around the world all the time. Another day, another blog, perhaps.)

However, I was thinking about this issue of “systems and ethos” a couple of weeks ago, as I prepared a sermon for Cornerstone Church of All Nations (which you can listen to online, if you wish) on Romans 12:1–2.

An ethos of worship is a necessary (and Biblical) objective for all believers in Jesus.

“Transformed by the renewal of the mind” is not about being more educated or having more BIble knowledge. It’s not about “setting goals” for our spiritual life that we can measure, obtain, etc., etc. It’s about ordering our lives … systemizing our lives … to live in an ethos of worship. This is what it takes. Worship changes us. Worship transforms us. Worship is the objective.

I am still thinking through this in my own life. How do I need to order my life so that worship is indeed my priority? I don’t think that’s about setting goals to “worship so many hours every day”. I think it’s deeper than that. More formative. Closer to the soul.

Things get super specific at this point. How I order my mornings. What kind of things do I do … or obstain from … during my days and evenings. How will I consciously work the disciplines of silence and solitude and listening into my daily and weekly routine. This requires much more than the banalities of corporate “goal-setting.” This requires an element of deeper self-awareness, others-awareness and, ultimately, Holy Spirit-awareness that isn’t conducive the cold-blooded nature of “goal setting”.

I know some will disagree (perhaps even “strongly disagree”) with my proposition here. It’s fine if you do (you’re welcome to make your point in the comments). However, I do know this: even if setting “specific, measureable, obtainable, relevant, time-related goals” is the way you need to “get things done”, it will not be enough.

There has to be a system which produces an ethos. At that point, I think real work will be accomplished. At least that’s how it’s working out for me. Personally. Corporately. For the Kingdom.

Maybe it’s because I tend to walk or take public transport to work, or maybe it’s because I tend to be a slow reader, or perhaps it’s because I’m a high-audio learner. But in any case, audio books are a non-guilty pleasure for me, and I’ve listened to a ton of them over the past eight years that we’ve been in Mongolia. I’ve listened to everything from Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (AWESOME book to listen to. It’s narrated by Simon Prebble, who is one of the best narrator of audio books that I know of) to Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action by Simon Sinek (an excellent primer in strategic thinking). Ecelectic audio books are usually what I’m listening to, when my iPhone is attached to my ear.

One of the fiction books I read (listened to) recently was an alternative history novel by Noami Novek called His Majesty's Dragon: A Novel of Temeraire, which is the first book in a series about the Royal English Air Force during the Napolianic wars. How is that possible? There were no airplanes during the Napolianic wars, you say? Ahhh … but there were dragons. The story is about the relationship between a dragon named “Temeraire” and his trainer and rider “Lawrence”. The thing that intrigued me about this story was the fact that “Lawrence” was a decorated captain in the English navy, and was highly honored and respected in that vocation. He captures a French ship containing a dragon egg, and it changes his life forever.

Of course, there are many things which make this a good book. The plot, character interactions and well written sentences, to name a few. The relationship between Captain Lawrence and Temeraire the dragon is actually quite moving. Oddly enough, the aspect of this story which intrigued me most was Captain Lawrence’s mid-career vocation change. I related to this somehow.

In 2006 when Renee’ and I came to Mongolia, I also left a vocation behind. I wasn’t a decorated sea-captain, but I did know a thing or two about pastoring a church. Thirteen years of trial and error (probably mostly error) had taught me a lot. Coming to Mongolia ramped up the learning curve. Culture and language learning is a steep ascent of Evererest like proportions. Moving from a familiar environment to a completely and alarmingly strange environment is disconcerting to say the least. There can also be an incredible sense of inferiority when around colleagues who have been in this strange and odd environment a little while longer. I related to Captain Lawrences struggles with his new and more experienced dragon-rider associates, as he was often marginalized by them. Howerver, while they were experienced in riding dragons, they were also complete novices when it came to the skill set required to captain a ship, thus the tension.

So often in this story, however, the preparation of being a naval captain served Lawrence well as a dragon-rider in the Royal Air Force. He had eyes which saw things from a different perspective, while in the middle of this enormously steep learning curve. The technical nature and the culture of dragon riding is far different from that of captaining a ship. Yet, in the story (which I won’t give away too much … you should read the book!), Lawrence was uniquely prepared to fulfill his purpose in a greater cause.

Here’s what I know: God is perfect in preparing us and then moving us to whatever His calling and purposes are. I would say that’s true, but I think sometimes this can get a bit hackneyed in our Christian circles. I read the book of Philippians today and was struck by the instructions of Paul to both forget “what lies behind” and strain “forward to what lies ahead” (3:13), while at the same time to “hold true to what we have attained” (3:16).

I am learning that there is so much more to learn.

I am also seeing that God’s preparations really are never finished, and in that sense, it’s really not something to spend a whole lot of time pondering.

I need to listen to the Spirit. It’s that simple. The past is the past. The future is the future, and I can’t do a whole lot about either one of them. But what I can do is listen now. Listening now helps me to learn from the past, and hear the voice of God for the future. As for God, His ways are perfect. Believing His perfection in everything is what we call faith. There are certain ways God is preparing each of us with a unique and specific skill set and with experiences to accomplish something that’s ultimately larger than any one of us.

I find great hope in that today, for some reason.

I also look forward to reading (listening to) the next book in the Temeraire series. It’s in my “listen queue.” I’ve always been fascinated with dragon lore. Now, if only there were some way to add “dragon-riding” to my current skill set…

“And we must still try or we would be leaving our friends to fight without us. I think this is what you have meant by duty, all along; I do understand, at least this much of it.”

Temeraire to Captain Lawrence

That’s a question I get asked a lot, particularly when traveling around the US and people find out what I do. I get asked that here, sometimes as well. The answer is not really that easy.

Yes, I can speak Mongolian. Yes, I can carry on a conversation with most folks here. Yes, I can even kind of sort of teach(ish) in the local language.

But speaking is only a part. In fact, maybe just a small part.

The real question that should be asked is “Do you listen in Mongolian?”

Because I am much worse at that.

I take some solice in the fact that I’m not the only one in that boat. I’ve found that most of us who are foreigners living in a land that is not our home are not very good at listening. But that’s small solice.

Last weekend the Grain of Wheat staff took a group of college students to a local mountain to play in the snow and get some fresh air for the afternoon. We had a great time of fellowship together, followed by a fantastic night of live music at our weekly “Open Mic” night. That evening I was taking several students home, and found myself lagging in my Mongolian understanding. I could make some excuse about being tired. Poor excuse, actually. But whatever the case, instead of really listening to what the students were saying, I was simply agreeing with whatever they saying. It’s a Mongolian language trick that a lot of us who live here practice. We nod our heads up and down as if we understand everything clearly and repeatedly say the Mongolian word which is the equivolent of “Okay”.

“За, За, За, За… ” (Za, za, za, za)

I was doing that.

I wasn’t listening or understanding them at all. I was just nodding my head like a poorly performing puppet.

They all started to laugh at me, because it became apparent to them that I wasn’t getting what they were saying. One said to me, “You are a ‘yes man’” (followed by a carload of laughter) … and another “You need to listen.” Mongolians are very direct when it comes to this sort of thing.

Thankfully I was also able to laugh at myself (an important skill for living in another culture), and, in the end, we all know that we care about each other.

But, this is a much larger issue. In fact, it’s a huge issue in my field of work. It’s often not just about being understood in the individual conversation. As Americans, we are taught our entire lives that Americans and American ways are the best and the right ways. Even when it comes to talking about Christianity, and Jesus being “the Way, the Truth and the Life” (which I whole-heartedly believe and base my entire life on), we jump into “conversations” (usually monologues) without ever listening. Thus we never learn anything.

This is the epitome of arrogance, I think.

And I’ve seen a lot done in Mongolia without listening to Mongolians. Both in the business world, and in the name of Jesus. 

We plant churches without listening. We teach theology without listening. We run businesses without listening. We do a lot of activities, all of which are good, healthy … even Kingdom oriented. But without listening. If we don’t listen … I think much of our activitiy will be self-sabotaged.

I’ve come to this conclusion. My number one job as a cross-cultural worker is to learn, not to teach. I know that’s counter-intuitive to the American way. But, things here are so different from the way I am used to them being (even after eight years!). Thinking here is so different than the way I think. My first job and first priority is to listen.

If we fail to listen, I believe we fail to demonstrate the humility of Christ … and that can undermine everything we say we are here for, without us even knowing it. That’s a little scary to me.

I told my friends in the car the other evening, that I was sorry for not listening. I went on to share that this is a weakness of mine. I told them that I do tend to talk first, but that’s wrong and selfish. I want to learn to be a better listener.

I appreciate that being pointed out in my life.

Once again, I have learned something incredibly valuable from this place and this people.

“If you ask me what is the first precept of the Christian religion, I will answer first, second and third: Humility”

ST. AUGUSTINE

“Don’t be sorry for yourself because you are going to so remote a parish. Be sorry for the [Inuit people]. You know nothing and they must teach you.”

MARGARET CRAVEN