I was going to write today about Lance Armstrong.  About how I don't really admire Lance Armstrong, and what I think of his "caught with the cookie jar" confession to Oprah.  But I won't.  Here's why.

I'm quick to see the flaws in others and criticize them.  It's easy for me, and easy for lots of people.  Endemic for us.  

It's probably a demonstration of pride and arrogance too.

So I could go on and criticize Armstrong, or anyone else.  It's easy for me to do.  But that's only credible if I'm one better, if I didn't do things the wrong way or make mistakes.  If I was perfect.

No, Mr Armstrong, I have made many mistakes too.  I have many skeletons in my closet.  
Criticizing you shows no humility on my part.

I see this happen when Darcia does something wrong.  Or, more likely, when something is wrong and I blame Darcia, even if it's not her fault.  A sensation goes through my mind that means "I can't believe you would do something so stupid."  I might do the same thing, or other just-as-stupid things.  But in my moment of anger I know I'm better, and she's dumb.  Except she's not dumb.  She's a better person than I am most days, and it's just a better-than-thou attitude. 

There's nothing Godly about a better-than-thou attitude.  And though we all criticize others and are quick to pronounce judgement, some humility and caution would be good.  Instead of teaching about humility by pointing out the lack of it in someone else, maybe I should just practice it myself instead.

And no matter what happens to Lance after his Oprah confession, I have enough to worry about in keeping myself humble.  "Be careful, lest something worse might happen to you," Jesus said.  

Week at mom's house

I've been at my mom and dad's for a few days.  We come here once a year to visit and be away from everything in the city.  It's a mini-vacation each time.

It's especially nice because of how well my mom takes care of me.  I do next to nothing, but sit around and play.  Day 1: hike around with Terra and Trinity; go snowmobiling; watch hockey game, light fireworks.  Day 2: take Terra and Trinity skiing; eat big New Year's Day dinner. Day 3: go cross-country skiing with Darcia and my mom; go visit my aunt; eat more food. 

My mom is a beaver keep-busy type of person, always doing something.  Day 1: make lunch, make dinner, do other things.  Day 2: cook big New Year's Day dinner for me to eat, mend Terra's clothes I brought for her. Day 3: Go to neighbour to borrow skis for me to use, go skiing, make dinner again.  I don't even know what she does all day.  But she's always busy doing something, and never watches tv. 

My goal this week was to do more helping things when I came to visit.  But to be honest, I'm shamed by my mom.  There's no way I can ever do as many things for her as she does for me.  I wash the dishes as penance.  And make my bed.  But that's about it.

I'm really impressed by my mom.  I don't know anyone who has spent her life taking care of others as much as she has.  She raised 5 kids.  And we had it nice.  Home cooked meals, nice house, clean laundry, and help with homework.  She was awesome.  Few kids had as good a mom as we did.  She made half our Christmas presents herself.  We all received hand-sewn quilts for wedding presents.  She was always busy doing something.  And it was usually something for us.

She looks after my dad too.  He would be lost without her.  He worked the business (farming, logging, and various other things), but mom kept it all organized.  He could find his way through the kitchen to the cans of beans and sardines, but when they ran out he would starve.  Now, he comes home and there's pie for dessert. 

So when I think of a model of someone who serves others, I can think of my mom.  And be proud of her, while I enjoy another piece of pie.  She is the type of person I try to be.

A second thought.  This is what good parenthood is:  Taking care of someone else.  There's a progression of life that we're supposed to go through:

• Very selfish and dependant on others
• Selfish, somewhat able to care for self
• We-focused
• Giving of self to care for another
• Free
• Graceful enough to consiously receive help from others

Here are the corresponding age-stages:

• Baby
• Child-Adolencent
• Married
• Parent
• Empty nester
• Old

It's progression from self-focused to others-focused.  It's a natural progression that God seeks us to grow through.

Marriage and parenthood is the classroom to get your focus away from yourself and on to others.  You finally have a genuine concern and object of need.  So you learn to deny yourself to serve someone else again and again and again.  And to enjoy it.

It's not easy to learn.  How many people wake up after 3 years of marriage and say, "My needs aren't met."  How many new parents look at their baby and say, "This is much harder than I thought."  They're statements that reveal, "It's hard for me to find joy in serving others."  Not a sign of failure, but the process of learning.

After 45 years my mom is a pro.  She serves.

Really, I think she should spoil herself and do more to spoil herself. 
But right now she's busy fixing something with her sewing kit.  That's just who she is. 

Thanks, mom.

Christmas presents

By nature of my job I get presents at Christmas.  It's like being a teacher, or important client:  I get presents because of my job title.  

Couple that with being in an Asian church, and Chinese people value giving gifts . . . you get the picture.

I'm really honoured by the fact that people give me gifts.  People are really, really nice to me.  And because I'm not someone who gives lots of gifts, I feel really honoured.  

(If not phishing for extra presents next year.  Remember, this blog is my thoughts, and you're just overhearing them.)

It makes me think:  Do I give to people as much as I receive from them?  Do I add to people's lives?  Do people think of me and consider how much they have received from me?  Am I much more a giver than I have received?

The continuing challenge - try to give to people's lives, serve them, put then first.


Here are some quotes from Stephen Covey on trust & emotional bank accounts.

We all know how our regular bank account works. We make deposits, save up money, and when we need that money later, we withdraw it. An emotional bank account is an account of trust instead of money. It’s an account based on how safe you feel with another person.


Covey identifies six ways to make deposits (or reduce withdrawals):

1) Understanding the Individual. This means listening intently to what the other person is saying and empathizing with how they may feel. It’s important to care for others and act with kindness toward them. 

2) Keeping Commitments.  How do you feel when someone arrives right on time when you have a meeting? How about when people simply do what they say they will do? You build up an 
emotional reserve by keeping your commitments. 

3) Clarifying Expectations.  We are not mind readers, and yet we consistently expect others to know what we expect of them. Communicating our expectations can help create a higher level of trust.  When we ask for what we want, and we get it, we can then trust a little more.

4) Attending to the Little Things.  Don’t you find that the little things tend to become the BIG things when they do not receive our attention? Doing the little things is how we honor and show respect for others. Small kindnesses, a smile, a little extra effort, a hug, doing something you didn’t “have” to:  these are the things that build trust.

5) Showing Personal Integrity.  Integrity is the moral floor upon which trusting relationships are built. When we operate with sound moral character, it makes it so easy for others to trust us.


6) Apologizing When We Make a Withdrawal.  We will make mistakes; it’s part of life. But when you see you have violated a trust, sincerely apologizing is how we make a deposit to counteract the damage we have done.

When your trust level is high, because you’ve made lots of deposits, communication is almost effortless. You can be yourself, and others understand and appreciate you. Then, when you make mistakes or offend someone unexpectedly, you draw on that reserve and the relationship still maintains a solid level of trust.

Conversely, when you are discourteous, disrespect others, interrupt others, speak sarcastically or ignore others, your emotional bank account becomes overdrawn because you have jeopardized the trust level. When the trust level is low, you have to be very careful of what you say; you tend to be more political.

Our most precious relationships (with our spouse, kids, friends and boss) require constant deposits, because those relationships continue to grow and change, and with these changes come new expectations. If you have a teenager at home, you may make several withdrawals in just one day! As your marriage evolves, your roles and responsibilities may change, and your work and home lives may change over time because of career changes or kids moving out or back in. These relationships require constant investment.

This is what my life is about...

"This is what I do.  This is what my life is about."

I pay far too much attention to the NHL lockout.  Someone said it's like when your drug dealer stops selling, you spend all your time focused on where he went, instead of just finding another drug.  Maybe not the best illustration to tell in church, but it explains why I still read all the hockey news.

The line above is from oft vilified (appropriately) Gary Bettman, commissioner of the NHL.  His life, he said, is about hockey.  More accurately, I add, making money from hockey.

It's a great line though.  "This is what my life is about."

I think about my challenge - to put others first.  About 50 days of it, but moreso trying to develop a lifelong habit of serving others.  Am I able to say, "This is what I do.  This is what my life is about"?

To answer quickly, No.  Certainly not yet.  It's what I'm consciously trying to do.  Sometimes I do it well, I think, sometimes not so well.  

Maybe it's what I do.  But it's honestly not what my life is about.  It's not the core essence of who I am at all.  

We should be there.  This is what Jesus said.  Not just recommended, nor advised, but stated simply.  After Jesus washed the disciples' feet, he said to them, "Since I, your Master and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other's feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you." This is what you need to do; this is what your life should be about.

Yet perhaps we can gather encouragement from the disciples.  Jesus had spent 2+ years with them, teaching this lesson several times.  Yet one last time he went over it.  Why?  Presumably because they didn't learn it yet.  It took them time; it will take me time.

Another thought:  I'm taking advantage of an excess of time to spend with my family.  It gives me time to do things for them.  Why, just yesterday I offered to wash the car for Darcia, just to be nice.  (I didn't actually get to it though so she had to wash it herself.  Does the thought count???)  

It's a little bit reflected in how I work with people too.  Not just, "What needs to get done?" but also "How are you doing?"  

If I'm running around doing my list of things that need to get done all week I can't possibly add in care for other people.  I'm either doing less things of myself, or I don't have time for other people.

But I admit I have a luxury of time right now.  I work part time, so I can volunteer at school, I can talk to people more.  If you're a mom who works full time and is driving kids to practices and cooking dinner and trying to buy groceries on the way home then it's a lot harder to ask, "What can I do to serve others?"  

I suspect there are two answers:

First, how you live becomes a habit of your mind.  Some people have a perspective of caring for others in the midst of the work they do.  It's apparent to people all around them.  It's a grace with which they live.  Some people do the same things but have an air of selfishness to their work and attitude.  

Second, do less.  If you're too busy doing things, do less things.  There might not be a better way.  Maybe this is what the command for a sabbath was hinting at.  

But then, it's easy for me to say. 

Plus, it's never wise to gain insight from an addict when he's coming off an addiction.  They're so caught up in withdrawal and hope and craving all at once they have no idea how to see life clearly.  Ask me in six months how I feel, and if serving has truly become "what my life is about."  Let's see what I have to say then.
Not just about hockey, though I hope there are real games to watch then.  About serving.

Still too much

There's still a lot of me-ness in my life. Lots of what I'm trying to get done, my own plans, my own ambitions, my own needs. I've done a lot in the last month in learning to serve others. But at my core, it's still about me. How do I leave more of myself behind?

Mostly my life is about me. I'm not sure if my core has or will change much. Or what I'm supposed to look like, or what it means to change.

It was 9:00 at night.  We had just put the kids to bed.  It was time to do what we enjoy most when we put the kids to bed.  Then Darcia asked me to do something:

Would you like to take my mom's car, wash it and fill it up with gas and drive it back to her place?

Normally I would have resisted.  I knew it had to be done, but my first question would have been, "Do we have to do it now?  Can we do it later?  Are you serious?"

But I actually just said "Yes." Slight hesitation as I contemplated my 40-day experiment, and then said Yes.  I got the keys, my wallet, and left.

We borrowed her mom's car while our was being fixed.  It was time to take it back, and it needed to be done this week.  To be nice we needed to wash it and fill it up (remember:  anybody who borrows my car).  It wasn't exactly what I had in mind for the evening, but I did it.

Maybe I'm starting to learn a bit.  Learn to serve others honestly.  Learn to live to serve others.  Maybe I'm starting to change.

Oh, and what do we enjoy doing most after the kids are in bed?  Walk the dog, of course.  
Jack came for the car ride.

What a powerful question.

Is there anything else I can do to help you today?

I tried it out, and got fantastic responses.

Person one:  Get me out of a committee I don't want to be on.
Person two:  Big questions about a close relationship with a person.  Suddenly I was invited into a very personal part of their life.
Person three:  Nothing much, I'm fine.  Thanks for asking, I'll let you know.

Sometimes it was a big job to do.  Mostly it was something small, but something important.  It was big to them, but not hard for me to help with.

I'll continue asking people and see what they say.  It's one of the best questions you can ask anyone!