help wanted

One of the less expensive fast food “value meals.”

Half an album on iTunes.

One fancy high-calorie drink at Starbucks.

That’s what $5 will buy you.

Lunch at Jersey Mike’s.

More of that iTunes album (but probably not all).

Two coffee drinks and maybe a cookie.

That’s what $10 will get you.

And the love of a new puppy, as we all know from Mastercard commercials, is priceless…..until this week when Milo, shown here ready to greet trick-or-treaters, was diagnosed with a congenital stomach problem that makes him very sick each time he eats and can only be corrected with surgery.

This is sad, yes, but animals get sick and pets die and, as we know from Disney commercials, it’s all part of the circle of life.

But here’s the deal: Milo’s owner, who is a friend of mine and also a staff member in one of our churches, has had an off-the-charts run of bad luck and unhappiness this past year. From her health (not great) to her parents (divorcing) to her boyfriend (emphasis on boy) to her house (costly repairs) not one area of her life has gone well.

Tonight she called me and said a lady at Bible study asked how things are going. When she quietly explained Milo’s new diagnosis, the lady said, “I can’t listen to this anymore. It’s too depressing.”

And in the midst of it all, despite coping with situations and dysfunctions caused by other people’s actions, she makes good choices, sets healthy boundaries, and keeps doing good for Jesus. She got Milo last fall as one more positive choice—a way to add happiness and joy to her life. Now he’s dying.

Bottom line? Milo can return to healthy puppyhood with a surgery that costs just $1500. I’m going to pay for at least $500. Would you pay for at least $5?

I don’t ask you for anything very often, and never for me (I believe the only time to date was to request help for Kinetic Church after a thief stole all their gear). And I don’t do it lightly. But while these aren’t easy times for anybody, they’re downright hard for Milo’s owner–and not just financially. Will you give up that greasy cheeseburger you shouldn’t eat anyway and help save her little puppy?

Milo will send each donor an autographed photo, after he gets back on his feet. And if he ever writes his memoirs, he’ll thank you in the introduction. In the meantime, I thank you now. Just click here.

tipping point

As of this week, I’ve been a full-time freelancer for two years.  And although most days still find me scrambling to keep up with this total lifestyle change, I’ve achieved some measures of success: I pay all my bills, only occasionally carry on entire conversations with my cat, and receive requests from other aspiring freelancers to share tips for how they can do the same.

This last one surprises me; what suggestion could I make that isn’t totally obvious (“work hard”) or somewhat unique to my situation (“have a dad who’s the editor of a magazine, and then get a job writing for that magazine based on other people’s recommendations, but go through life with most people thinking you’re just a beneficiary of nepotism”)?

But after a conversation with my friend Tabitha this week, I realized there are pointers to pass along, and many apply to fields other than writing. So here’s my top ten. And if you need a good graphic designer, Tabitha’s your lady. Leave me a note and I’ll get you two in touch. (See #3.)

1. Learn to self-promote.

You are now your own marketing department, and no one will know how talented you are unless you tell them. Interestingly, more entrepreneurs than you’d think are also somewhat shy, and this can be difficult. But it doesn’t have to be obnoxious (and shouldn’t be). Work on your elevator speech—get comfortable sharing the scope of your work and skills in 15-30 seconds, and have a couple recent projects in mind to share anytime someone asks what you’re working on.

2. Talk to people.

This is related but different, because it could just as easily say “listen to people.” In other words, be friendly and build relationships with no expectation of a payday. Some of my most interesting jobs—doing voiceover work for a children’s musical, drafting the bio for a potential nominee to Obama’s Cabinet, ghostwriting portions of a textbook—have come from friendships that began outside work.

3. Pay it forward.

Or network. Or be nice. However you want to say it, you will get some of your jobs because your friends and colleagues recommend you. Keep the karma flowing by identifying the talented folks in your own circle who you’d work with yourself, and let others know about them too.

4. Get organized.

If you have any work at all, it’s likely going to mean multiple clients and multiple deadlines. Whether you’re a BlackBerry addict or you want everything written down on paper, find a method that works for you and use it. And don’t forget a filing system for receipts, check stubs, and mileage logs, because…..

5. Turbo Tax is your best friend.

Whether you’re full-time or part-time, self-employment = additional taxes. If you’re earning anything substantial you’ll want to pay those taxes in four quarterly payments throughout the year; the IRS aptly calls these “estimated” taxes because correctly guessing the right amount is truly a marketable skill in itself. TurboTax makes it easier, plus it finds every possible (legal) deduction associated with your home office, vehicle, and business expenses. Yes, it costs a little money—it’s worth every penny (and deductible next year, anyway).

6. Get a logo and a website.

Blogging platforms make this easier than ever, and your site doesn’t have to cost a mint (although it wouldn’t hurt if it looked like it did). Ask around—someone in your network knows a reasonably-priced web designer, and the conversations will give you more practice with non-annoying self-promotion.

7. Get business cards and don’t leave home without them.

Just trust me on this one.

8. Work on spec.

Give your work away occasionally if it seems like a wise investment. When trying to land a new job, offer to do a small portion at no charge. This also means no risk, because if the client is unsatisfied they’re out nothing but a few days or weeks. If they do like it, your combination of talent, self-confidence and concern for their business means you’ll likely get the job.

9. But don’t apologize for your fee.

Assuming you’ve done your homework in setting that fee, most professionals won’t blink. But if they do, remember three things: 1. Many of them have never figured out their own hourly rate. Even if they have, they’re coming to you because they can’t do this work themselves.  2. They often forget you have overhead (office rental, health insurance, those higher taxes) which must be covered. They don’t have to pay you benefits, but they have to pay you enough so that you can. 3. If they really can’t stomach it, they’re probably not a client you want, anyway. If you’re convinced I’m wrong, see #8.

10. Remember the Sabbath.

That may be a day, an afternoon, or a 24-hour time span, and it may vary from week to week. Whatever timeframe works for you, plan it and do it.  I worked too many hours last year and I’ll probably work too many this year, but Sundays have become non-negotiable days of worship, friends, naps, movies, reading, and take-out. There will always be something urgent—learn to work hard, then walk away. Push yourself too hard and you’ll do worse than talk to a cat.

“Dog” show

I finally saw Slumdog Millionaire today; several critics (like this one and this one) are predicting big wins for the movie at tomorrow’s Academy Awards. From the great “acting” of the little boys (they aren’t actors, just poor Indian kids recruited for the roles) to the triumphant love story, it’s a wonderful movie. One review said, “The prospect of an uneducated orphan from the slums of Mumbai winning a pot of gold on a game show that hinges on worldly knowledge is, of course, the stuff of purest fairy tales.” Yes, it’s almost impossible to believe it could actually happen—then again, Slumdog‘s own cast finds it hard to believe the movie is now a front-runner for major prizes tomorrow night. It just might win Best Picture, and I hope it does.

But what struck me while watching the film was not the acting, the cinematography, or even the irresistible music—it was the poverty. As my dad said on the drive home, the filth and disease of those Indian slums are replicated in every major city throughout the 2/3 world. A billion people around the globe scavenge for food, drink dirty water and wash their clothes in it, and accept lives of crime and prostitution just to get by.

That’s not news—you’ve heard all the statistics. Like me, maybe you even sponsor a child or write a check at the end of the year to help out in a small way and assuage your guilt over everything you can’t or don’t do.  And like me, perhaps you watched this movie and wondered why you won the cosmic spin of the wheel and so many others didn’t.

I’m no smarter, more talented, or more worthy than the young women in Mumbai, Uganda, or Lima. I don’t deserve overpriced junk food anymore than they deserve to live off garbage.  Why was I placed among riches when so many others beg for pennies?  Why do I get an easy life when so many others suffer? Or as Paul Williams wrote (and took a beating for) in one of his Christian Standard columns, “Would someone please help me locate the Scripture that defines such inequity as acceptable?”

The only answer I ever come back to is Luke 12. “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded,” Jesus says, “and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

I can’t fix global poverty by myself anymore than an Indian “slumdog” can win a zillion rupees—both are the illusion of feel-good movies. But my daily life seems like a fairy tale to much of the world, and the marching orders are clear. It’s time to get busy.

Re-read

From the “It’s a small world” file, Lee Camp is quoted in Alan Hirsch’s new book Re-Jesus, and Lee Camp is a friend of mine who executive produces the Tokens radio show here in Nashville.

Actually, perhaps it’s not that the world is small, but that I know just a few people and they all know each other. Either way, you’ll want to check out the sample chapters Hirsch provides for free on his website.

In the book, Hirsch and co-author Michael Frost aim to “refound” the church on its foundation—Jesus—with questions like: How is the Christian religion informed and shaped by the Jesus we meet in the Gospels? In how many ways do we domesticate the radical Revolutionary in order to sustain our religion and religiosity? And how can a rediscovery of Jesus renew our discipleship, the Christian community, and the ongoing mission of the church?

I agree with the authors’ assessment that we as a church “seem a little lost, if truth be told, and no quick-fix church-growth solution can be found that can stop the hemorrhage. There is no doubt that we face a spiritual, theological, missional and existential crisis in the West.”

I can’t wait to read the whole thing. And to see if I know any others quoted in the intros.

mossie meadows

Last week a friend told me about his great aunt, who—besides having the fabulous name Mossie Meadows—was also memorable for her generous and spirited approach to life. Mossie taught school in a small coal-mining town in Kentucky while raising two sons after her husband died in one of the mines just a few years into their marriage.

Mossie taught the value of relationships in addition to reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic. Each day she drove a horse-drawn wagon from house to house, collecting the community’s children and transporting them to school. If she discovered a mother sick in bed or recovering from the birth of a baby she instructed every child to clamber down from the wagon and milk the cows, build the fire, and prepare the breakfast. Only after that household was ready for the day did Miss Meadows continue the route. “Official” school may have started later, but the kids learned valuable lessons those days.

This focus on others occasionally benefited Mossie herself. One day, following the time-honored tradition of going to work sick and infecting everyone else, Mossie became so ill and weak she could barely stand. She lay down on a wooden table in the school room and awoke hours later, uncomfortably warm and looking at dozens of little eyes all peering back at her. The worried children had circled the table, each spreading his coat across Mossie and then silently standing guard.

Mossie taught school for more than forty years. No one “important” knew her name but she influenced thousands of young lives, and now her influence extends to me. Instead of grumbling about a situation (as I’ve been known to do), Mossie did the best she could with a strong faith, a marketable skill, and a good attitude. Her entire life became her greatest teachable moment, reminding students like me never to underestimate the value of one humble life, well lived.

net lists

You don’t have to spend much time around this blog to know I write about worship a lot, so I was excited to get an email invite to “Sunday Setlists.” True to its name, this new site invites worship pastors, non-worship pastors, tech crew members, and just plain folks to blog about their most recent worship experience. Participants share the order of service from the past weekend including the songs, sermon topic, media, and other elements.

With its many links to worship leaders and attenders around the country, the site is a great way to get ideas for your own worship planning and to see how others are grouping songs together and building flow around different topics. Depending on the blogger, you may even gain some insights into the worship philosophy and planning process of that church. Check it out here. Sunday Setlists founder Fred McKinnon also started The Worship Community, also very much worth your time.

horsing around

Wow, I think my last post scared some people. Okay, for something lighter from the “in non-essentials, liberty” department (and I dare you to find a better first line to a news story):

Norco church lets worshippers bring their horse to service

The Rev. Alton Vance’s 8:30 a.m. Sunday worship service is punctuated with the sound of snorting, the odor of manure and the sight of congregants decked out in cowboy hats and spurs.

The outdoor “cowboy service” at Norco Christian Church is not for those who prefer button-downed services in a hushed sanctuary, but it fits well into the lifestyle of many residents of the city that calls itself “Horsetown USA.”

Horse owners can tie up their animals at metal hitching posts or a wooden fence. Dogs are welcome. Pastor Vance preaches in front of an Old-West wooden façade and sings bluegrass hymns, sometimes while playing the banjo.

“Some people didn’t come to church because they wanted to ride their horses instead,” Vance said. “We decided we’d give them a good reason to ride their horses to church.”

The cowboy service at the 53-year-old church began in 1989 on patches of artificial grass laid out on a dirt lot. The façade and six small Western-style buildings — all doing double-duty as aesthetic touches and storage sheds — were added later.

Most worshippers sit on metal folding chairs on concrete, while the horses watch from an adjacent grassy fenced area, some with their owners beside them.

On hot or rainy days, only two or three horses might be there. With the sunny, unseasonably warm weather on Sunday, 25 horses attended, some munching grass or neighing as Vance preached. A few owners had to calm down animals that were restless or weren’t playing nice with their equine neighbor.

Becky and Len Conway were a few feet away from their two 5-year-old horses — Tryggur and Katherine Hepburn — during the whole service.

“We need to sit in front of them to make sure they behave,” Becky Conway said. “If they start messing with each other, we can take care of it. They sometimes start to bite each other or kick one another or make too much noise.”

And to think I’m annoyed by a few children in worship.

an open letter

Dear Dr. Keller,
Thank you so much for speaking at Christ Presbyterian last week.  I love that you still make time for the handful of churches that helped plant Redeemer 20 years ago. Thanks for traveling so far, and on such a brutal travel day, when Nashville received a whole 1/8″ of snow—almost enough to cover the grass. Sheer bravery, sir.

It seemed everyone was reading your latest book during Christmas, and I enjoyed the opportunity to hear your own summary of its message and the application to church life.  Your description of healing spiritual communities and our responsibility to them as family members should be required listening for every Christian, both leader and layman, and if you ever release it as an MP3 I’m forwarding the link to everyone I know.

But I’m not as eager to share the first half of your lecture, because it taps directly into the most personal spiritual questions I wrestle with. For those reading this blog who weren’t there and aren’t you (that would be just about everyone), the first half of Wednesday night’s talk revisited the parable of the prodigal son and showed how both the prodigal and his older brother are guilty of disobeying the Father—one through promiscuity and rebellion, the other through self-righteous moralism. They both want the Father’s gifts instead of relationship with the Father, and although the elder brother expresses that desire in more culturally and religiously acceptable ways—obedience, duty, judgmentalism—both are lost. Both want to be their own master and savior, and the only solution for them and for us all is Jesus and his willingness to bring each of us back to the family at his own expense.

As you spoke, I could almost see light bulbs snapping on above people’s heads. Most of us have heard this parable dozens of times and think we understand our role as the prodigal and God’s role as the Father rushing to extend grace. I’m sure your brilliant exposition of the story caused many in that audience to realize for the first time their identification with the older brother and their own tendency to choose rules instead of relationship.

But here’s the thing: I get than I’m an elder brother. Whether it’s this parable or the one in Matthew 20, I always identify with the long-suffering character who feels cheated. Like the prodigal’s brother or the early morning vineyard workers, I show up and do my job and fulfill expectations. I work hard and remain loyal and try to be obedient.  I do stuff I don’t want to do and give money I don’t want to give. I demonstrate character when it would be easier and more fun to throw a screaming fit. I try to take the high road although traffic is light.

However, I don’t feel cheated because the prodigals receive grace and blessing just like me. I feel cheated—no, I believe confused, frustrated, and furious would be more appropriate—because they often receive way more blessings, the blessings I want, the blessings I deserve not because I am a righteous person but because God promised them.

Both the elder brother and I may be too rules-focused, but neither one of us set up the rules—the Father did. He promises to fulfill our hearts if we delight in him (Psalm 37). He promises to make our paths straight if we acknowledge and follow him (Proverbs 3). My heart is less than fulfilled and my paths are more crooked than Bernie Madoff. So either He changed the game or He wants the rules to remain unclear—is it really that terrible to feel betrayed?

I’m continuing to obey despite my limited understanding. But I do wish the parable had a third sibling—the sister who doesn’t want to control the Father, she just wants to understand His actions once in a while……even if it’s as infrequent as Nashville getting a real snow.

Thanks for reading.

Jen

2.0

I’ve spent the afternoon working on a new blog post and finally finishing the last of the reformatting changes left over from the Blogger-to-Wordpress transition. (Blogger is free for a reason.)

Between writer’s block on the new post and re-reading the old ones, it strikes me I’ve never asked you for topics or ideas. Occasionally someone will email and ask me to talk about something specific, but usually I’m writing out of my own experiences. That’s fine, but this blog is almost three years old and probably overdue for some reinvention.

So I welcome ideas: any recurring features you’d like to see or topics you wish we’d discuss? (I say “we” because some of the best stuff happens in the comments.) What posts do you find helpful (and not)? Why do you read, and what would keep you coming back?

I’ll have the latest all-about-me post up soon enough. In the meantime, tell me about you.