transition points

Bob Russell has set the bar high for us in a number of areas.

Humility. Class. Longevity of ministry.

Oh, and that whole growing a church from 50 to 20,000 thing.

He also modeled transitioning well, from the first leadership team discussions about succession planning in 1999 to the memorable “baton-passing” during his last service as Southeast’s senior minister in 2006.

Bob shares the story of this journey, the lessons learned, and suggestions for other leaders in his new book “Transition Plan.” The publishers mailed me a review copy recently and I’m glad to share it with you as an excellent resource.



Rick Warren has praised Southeast’s transition from Bob to current senior minister Dave Stone as the only perfect one he’s seen, but this book is helpful because Bob also shares some of the things he would have done differently.  He admits the occasions he struggled and the principles he followed.

“Some ministers feel the choice of their successor should be left up to God and that any effort at a transition plan is a presumption on God’s will,” he writes. “But we don’t take that same approach to other transitions. We make out a will for our children, we train someone to take our place at work, and we mentor assistant coaches in athletics. Why would we give less attention to the Kingdom of God?”

Bob showed us how to grace-fully hand your life’s work to the next generation. Whether you’re a minister or a business leader, you can learn from his example. I have a second, autographed copy of the book which I’ll give away to one of you—just leave a comment on this post by 5 p.m. EST on Thursday. Tell me about the transition you’re involved in, the one you need to be planning, the one you mishandled, or what you’ve learned in this area. If you really have nothing on topic to share, offer a suggestion of what I should be for Halloween this year. (I’m stuck. Why does every Halloween outfit for women involve short skirts and plunging necklines? But that’s another post.)

new to you friday–success story

Once upon a time there lived a freelance writer who really wanted to attend STORY.


In 2010, because of a generous person, this writer attended the second-annual conference. She heard amazing speakers like Charlie Todd, Andrew Klavan, Jason Fried and David McFadzean. She sat at the feet of legendary UCLA screenwriting professor Richard Walter (literally–there was no more room on the couch). She got some free stuff and met Ben Arment and heard Amena Brown share one of her newest poems at an Elements event at the city’s “premiere gay and lesbian bar” before snagging the last cheese pizza at a place down the street and eating it with her buddy Kyle while standing outside on one of the summer’s last lovely nights.

And that was just day one.

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Humorist and cookbook author Peg Bracken once described the difference between a gourmet cook and her own humble efforts this way:

[The gourmet's] assignment had been dessert. So, at dessert time, she brought out big plastic bags of old-fashioned plump chocolate-marshmallow cookies.

“I adore these, don’t you?” she beamed, handing them around. And everyone did, thinking, moreover, How original, how posh! But if someone else had done this they’d have thought, Poor child, how naive!

The same principle applies in other areas—people already established as successes in a particular field can often do no wrong, while an unknown but equally-talented counterpart couldn’t pull off the same thing.

This struck me Monday as the buzz began building around Ben Arment’s announcement of his new STORY conference scheduled this October in Chicago. Until this week Arment served as the “Innovation and Experience Director” at Catalyst and is now going out on his own to create a production company for live events and film. STORY is his first project in this new role.

As soon as the news hit, so did the twittering:

@Church Relevance: Ben Arment is putting together another fresh ministry conference called STORY.

@mknisely: #STORY is going 2 do something significant 4 church communicators & open the possibilities 2 a new way of thinking.

@vjProctor: check out STORY by @BenArment – a first-of-its-kind experience -

@GBrenna: I’m pretty excited about this!!! (thanks @BenArment)

@mknisely: dude. #STORY is going to be off the hook. i cannot wait.



I’m not knocking the conference; in fact, Monday I emailed Christian Standard and offered it to cover it if they would pay my expenses and registration. (No response yet.)

But what I find amazing is that within minutes, hundreds of people around the world were not only talking about this new venture but singing its praises. It’s true Arment has a history of successes, and that influences us; J.J. Abrams was able to get the new Star Trek movie made in part because of his track record creating TV shows like LOST, Alias, and Fringe. We all build on past successes and Arment’s work speaks for itself.

So kudos to him. But I wonder what would happen if someone else, someone less well known and less affiliated with other hip initiatives, created the exact same conference. How much do we miss out on because it’s new or needs better branding? Is it that loser’s fault for not doing a better job grabbing our attention, or ours for being so hard to impress?

In the investment world, past performance does not guarantee future results. But in marketing and personal branding, past coolness predicts future acceptance. “Mrs. Tiffany can wear paste beads, and J. Paul Getty can wear out-at-the-elbow sweaters, too,” Bracken writes. “That’s the way the world wags, and no one has yet discovered what to do about it.”

must read

I’ve GOT to start reading more.

Reading has always been one of my very favorite things to do, but I also like earning a living, and lately I’ve spent all my time writing words for others and not reading the words of others.

And I’m worse off for it. As Michael Hyatt writes, leaders are readers. (Sure, he’s CEO of Thomas Nelson, but he’s still right.) I can’t think of a better way to learn about the past and understand today than by reading. On a Kindle, an iPad, a laptop, or even (gasp!) holding the pages of a newspaper or novel—there’s simply too much going on not to make the time.


For instance, I really need to finish J.M. Roberts’ A Short History of the World. Although I received a good liberal arts education in college, I have huge gaps in my understanding of historical time periods and how they fit together. I plan to finish this book soon, along with Church History in Plain Language—my grasp of that topic is even sketchier.

Then I have to read Denialism; the subtitle is “How irrational thinking hinders scientific progress, harms the planet, and threatens our lives.” Enough said.

A friend gave me The Hole in Our Gospel, which is changing the way some Christians are thinking about their faith. Why? I’d know if I read it. Yancey’s got a new one coming out. Another friend recommended Einstein’s God, and I’ve had Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer on my bookshelf for months. Then there’s the weekly influx of magazines and the dailyness of the daily news. I also subscribe to some blogs, from the professionally helpful (like Hyatt’s) to the simply silly (People of Walmart, anyone?).


I’ll still read for fun, but I’m starting to understand reading is not just an activity after I’ve finished my work (which never happens). It’s an important part of my work. How can I comment on the world around me if I’m not constantly learning more about it?

I’m going to start reading at least an hour each day, and you all can hold me to it—next week I’ll review a great new book and even give away a signed copy. In the meantime, help me out: what books, websites, blogs, and magazines are most helpful to you? What do I need to check out?

new to you friday–enough is enough

This week I speed-read a book about a new ministry in Africa in preparation for a phone interview with the founder. The book detailed the poverty and misery in Africa: children sniffing bostik (a mixture of gasoline and glue) to drug themselves long enough to forget being raped twice that day. Entire families destroyed by AIDS, buried in the yard while grandparents care for the surviving grandchildren—all HIV positive. The days without food, the months without clean water.

I read it while sipping a coffee from Starbucks, wearing clothes from Ann Taylor Loft, making notes on a Macbook and surfing Amazon to buy a new copy of “To Kill a Mockingbird” to read for my book club. That was when I decided it was time to revisit this post.

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Moving day, more than any other day, makes you keenly aware of how much junk you really own.

On Saturday my mom and dad and some good friends helped me (finally) move into my new house, a process that involved carrying roughly 3,267 boxes of stuff plus two couches, three chairs, a desk, four bookshelves, an iron bed frame and the heaviest dining room table ever made. As I do every time I move (this was the fifth one in eleven years), I found myself amazed at how much I’ve accumulated—14 antique china place settings and three matching salad plates (Grandma was prone to dropping things). Dozens of books I fully intend to read. Half-used hair products. Barbie dolls with complete outfits. The original packaging for Standard’s 1984 VBS craft kit featuring my smiling face.


So, some seriously good stuff.

And I wondered again, for at least the fifth time, if it’s wrong to have so much when most of the world has so little.

I’ve written about this before, and reading a blog post by Steve Denney stirred up the same questions. He quotes from Peter Singer, who asserts that while all of us would rush into a pond to save a drowning toddler without hesitating to worry about ruining our nice shoes, many of us struggle to metaphorically “wade in” and help save the 10 million children under five who die from poverty each year.

“Prompted by the pages of Singer’s book, it just seems wrong that I buy bottled water when I can get it from the tap,” Steve writes. “That I waste money on coffee. That I throw away food that I cannot eat (or don’t want to eat).”


I’m reminded of Schindler’s List, when the war ends and Oskar Schindler realizes every belonging he kept—each ring, each car, each suit—could have rescued another Jew from the death camps. When I watch that movie I condemn him; of course he should have sold the gold ring and flashy car to save more people. When lives are at stake, shouldn’t someone give all he can?

Steve’s point is people still die, and we face the same choices. Shouldn’t we give all we can?

But if I get rid of everything, I’ll be poor and others will have to take care of me. So that’s not the answer. Do I keep just enough to live on and give away the rest? Define “live on”—what does that include? Rice and beans and a vitamin pill, or can I have steak and ice cream occasionally? How often? Yes, coffee IS a necessity, but how about soda? One a week?

What about health insurance and retirement savings? I trust God to take care of me, but often He does that by allowing me to plan responsibly. Is it a sin to live modestly yet keep megabucks in my IRA?

The real question is when “enough” becomes excess. We all spend money on non-essentials, and it’s easy to judge others. Some could see my move as an acquisitional move up, although my new mortgage payment is actually less than my rent and in many ways this purchase was about good stewardship. On the other hand, a few of my friends recently sold their own houses, downsized to rentals or condos, and gave the difference to causes they care about.


Like Steve, I have become increasingly aware of just how much money I waste. But with each passing year, each passing move, I also become convinced this is one more gray area in a faith we often prefer black and white. Enough becomes too much when it becomes more important than obedience to Christ, and He asks each of us to sacrifice in different ways. I’m glad He hasn’t asked me to give up coffee yet.

frozen chosen

Years ago, one of my then-coworkers said I should consider selling my eggs—the inference being I might as well put them to good use and make some money since I wasn’t getting married anytime soon.

Didn’t.

Appreciate.

However, I did very much appreciate the question a different friend asked recently.

“So I was thinking,” he emailed, after reading an article about a former tennis pro who had children in her mid-40s after freezing her eggs as a younger woman, “let’s say that seven or eight years from now you finally find the right guy. It’s very, very possible, you know.”

(My friend is an optimist.)

“And you decide having kids is a good idea—very, very possible as well. It seems it would be pretty reassuring to know those frozen eggs were nestled somewhere.”

I appreciated his boldness in raising the issue (unlike the former co-worker, this friend has earned the right) and his compassionate approach. (“I cannot begin to understand the emotional strain of making that decision,” he concluded. “If the above scenario did take place, it seems it would have been worth it. On the other hand, if that guy never came along, I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to let those eggs go.”)


“Setting your own biological clock” is an interesting idea and one I’ve never really considered, mostly because it’s only in the last couple of years that the proverbial clock has ticked loud enough for me to hear. But the chance of having a healthy baby drops off rapidly after age 35 unless younger eggs have been kept in reserve.

Since the eggs are not fertilized before freezing, no new life has occurred, so I don’t see a moral issue with either the process or the eventual disposal of unused ones. (I welcome feedback/links that say otherwise.)


I also don’t believe the truism that if God wanted me to have children I would have married and had them by now. Life happens. Break-ups happen. Wasting years of my 20s with the wrong men happens. I made choices then and I get to make choices now.

But while God may not have determined the details of my current life, He did create our biology with certain parameters. Women aren’t designed to bear children in their mid 40s. And do I really want to chase a 2-year old when I’m 47?


Roy Mays used to say, “Just because it fits doesn’t mean it’s fitting.” I could do this, and I’m probably not completely done considering it. (That will come when I discover the cost.) But I’m not sure it’s right for me.

What do you think? Is this putting current science to its best use or “playing God”? What are the pros and cons?

new to you friday–armed service

In light of Terry Jones‘ recent behavior, today seemed an appropriate time to revisit another arena of congregational nuttiness. When I originally posted this, most people wanted to discuss my (intentionally) hyperbolic statement about the death penalty more than they wanted to comment on the prospect of hundreds of people packed into a church building with guns. If I had a chance to do it again I’d probably tone that sentence down—a bit. Wait, this kind of IS that chance, isn’t it?…………………ah, well.


I think love of God and country are both fine as long as we remember they’re two different things. I think everyone should read Columbine. And if this is a fake and Jones goes through with the Quran burning after all, endangering hundreds or thousands of American soldiers, I might change my mind about the death penalty.

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First of all, I’m not questioning your constitutional right to have a gun (although after reading Columbine I’m less convinced than ever that our current system is working—sure, eighteen year olds should be allowed to purchase semi-automatics at a gun show).

What I am questioning is why pastor Ken Pagano recently encouraged his flock at New Bethel Church in Louisville, KY to come to church armed.

This Saturday New Bethel is hosting an “Open Carry Celebration,” featuring videos promoting gun safety, patriotic music, a raffle—and extra security.

“As a Christian pastor I believe that without a deep-seated belief in God and firearms that this country would not be here,” Pagano told ABCNews.com. “I’m not ashamed of that fact. I’m proud of it.”


Evangelical Republicanism, otherwise known as “you can’t kill ‘em but we can” (NO to abortion and stem cell research, YES to capital punishment and war), has many adherents who confuse love of God with love of country. When patriotism = freedom and freedom = guns, you have a conservative who values the 2nd amendment. When patriotism also = Christianity, you get statements like Pagano’s.

And I get heartburn.


For one thing, I know plenty of Christians who have enough crazy already, thank you, and don’t need to be attending pentecostal worship services with handguns.

Second, the whole “permissible but not beneficial” thing comes to mind. Is this really the best way to present the Gospel to lost people? I know churches are questioning the whole seeker-sensitive model, but that doesn’t mean we have to become seeker-scary.

And think about the energy New Bethel’s investing to promote, plan, and defend this event. There really wasn’t anything more Kingdom-building to do in Louisville?


Ironically, this story hit just days after George Tiller was killed for performing late-term abortions. He was shot. In a church.

We may differ on the ideal balance between church and state, but can’t we agree on separation of church and ammo?

growing like Jesus

Christian Standard recently asked me and seven other contributing editors to consider the various ways Jesus grew—”in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men”—and to share how we’re growing in one of those areas.

Here’s my answer–don’t miss the other excellent responses on the CS website.

This spring I tagged a few days onto a California business trip so I could spend time with friends.

First I had coffee with John, who shared his recent decision to leave a safe ministry position and start a new church. “I waited years to discover this calling, and just tried to stay faithful until I saw the next step,” he told me. “And I’m not afraid because God is in it.”

Next was Kyle, who told me about his trip to Africa and how he left his fear there. Then he described how I seem to be struggling with my own fears, and how it could look to create margin in my life to explore these questions.

Then Christie, who pushed me to consider whether I was using workaholism as an escape. When I admitted her questions seemed eerily similar to these other conversations, she replied, “Well, it seems like God’s using anyone he can to get your attention.”

None of these friends knew that many of my recent struggles included lack of clarity over my own next steps, the wrestling match between being and doing, or temptations to stay safe and avoid risk. But God knew, and he spoke truth through people close to me. These days it is THE way he is helping me grow in wisdom.


I wonder how much God might have used the quiet faith of Mary or the strength of Joseph to help Jesus grow. Jesus prepared 30 years for his three-year ministry—how many now-anonymous friends, cousins, neighbors and teachers spoke into his journey?

We know his interactions with the disciples, with the religious leaders, and even with anonymous followers affected him. He was “astonished” by the faith of the centurion (Matthew 8 ) and “amazed” by others’ lack of faith (Mark 6).

He asked questions—some rhetorical, to be sure, but not all. “What were you arguing about?” he asks a group of teachers (Mark 9). “Do you want to get well?” he asks the invalid at Bethesda (John 5). In a crowd: “Who touched my clothes?” (Mark 5). One on one with a Samaritan woman: “Will you give me a drink?” (John 4).

If Jesus, the sinless Son of God, was influenced by the fallen people around him, how much more can we learn from the people in our own lives?


This includes the difficult people. As my minister says, the people we find it most challenging to love often provide the greatest opportunities to become more like Jesus. The employer sharing a less than stellar opinion of my work, the neighbor letting his dogs roam (and more) in my front yard, the church choir soprano proudly and loudly warbling off key—each one has allowed me to practice the graceful art of keeping my opinions to myself (until I publish them in a national magazine).

God can use the frustrating folks, and the frustratingly oblivious ones, as our 101 curriculum for patience, kindness—and wisdom.

Of course we must weight the feedback we receive from both our friends and our critics; just because the insight comes from a mentor or authority figure doesn’t make it accurate. But when we combine the counsel of trusted friends with our own reading of Scripture and connection to a church community, we are refusing insular thinking, accepting correction, and opening ourselves to growth.


At the end of my lunch with Kyle, he expressed his belief, confirmed again during his time in Africa, that God wants to be known in relationship with us.

“I’m not convinced,” I countered. “He seems to hide himself from me most of the time.”

“He doesn’t seem to be hiding now, does he?” Kyle said. “You have serious trust issues with God but even you have to admit he’s showing up.”

He is indeed, through the grace and truth shared by fellow travelers. Their wisdom is slowly helping me to grow in wisdom as well.

Two questions: Don’t I have the coolest friends ever? How are you growing like Jesus grew?

new to you friday–american beauty

I’m seeing this video making the rounds on Facebook again, so it seemed timely to revive my post about the huge manipulation of images in today’s advertising. As a new blogger I wasn’t savvy enough to embed the video; now I am but the Dove people won’t allow it, so click here to watch the one minute transformation of actual pretty girl to manufactured supermodel.




As my friend (and hair stylist) Glory likes to say, “Inner beauty is for amateurs.”

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A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the expectations of beauty we have for Christian women in the public eye. As a follow-up, check out this short video showing the work involved in transforming a regular girl into a billboard stunner. As one blogger put it, “Seems those magazine beauties don’t really exist after all…which means that many of us guys have a subconscious measuring stick no female can measure up to without moving in and out of Photoshop at will.” You’re just now figuring this out?


But we shouldn’t come down too hard on the men. Many of the women who complain about our culture’s unreasonable standards of beauty are the same ones spending huge sums of money on Botox and miracle wrinkle creams. We claim to resent it, but our dollars and attention fuel the machine.

(And I can’t prove this, but I think we do it more to impress and compete with other women than we do to attract men.)


This video is part of Dove’s “Campaign for Real Beauty” which promises to, among other things, donate grant dollars toward “the Program for Aesthetics and Well-Being” at Harvard and develop a “self-esteem fund” for young girls. I doubt Dove will single-handedly change the nature of advertising in this country, but it’s a brilliant advertising ploy in its own right. And I have a pimple today so I’m going to watch the video again.