three month update...

Are we having fun yet?

That's the question I've been asking myself for the past three months.  See, I've up and planted another church.  Here's my FIRST one.  They're rockin', have a great dude at the helm, have just moved into a new location, gone to two services and are set to grow like gangbusters this year if you ask me.

Planting again was near impossible. Took us almost four years to get up the guts.  I think, at the root, it's because planting a church means giving your life away. If you're anything like me (a freedom-loving, imaginatively-inclined guy) you dream of sailing away, seeing the World, embracing the far-horizon.

Planting and pastoring a church means staying put in one place for a very long time.  I think that, more than anything else, was 'the goads' we were kicking against.

And let me say, the first two months out of the gate at THE WELL my wife and I were freaking out. "What have we done?" was how we were feeling and what we were saying to each other. Had I just 'done' this in my own strength or was I really hearing God?  What would happen to my media career? Would everything stop cold? Would things continue?  What if things got busier?  Would I be able to keep up?  Would God bring us people to help us?

Would we come to love THE WELL?

It's hard to imagine loving another church like you did your first one. We still almost 'hurt' inside when we think of many of the people from our first church.  When we look back on their journey, on what God did in their lives through the work of that first church we still stand amazed.  We remember a room packed with 275 young adults, their hands and voices raised to Heaven, singing their hearts out in worship in the heart of downtown Toronto.

Great days.

How could it ever be that good again?

You really worry that it won't.  You worry that you've missed your chance, that you've blown it.

Then, all of sudden, in 'month three' your wee little suburban church plant starts showing signs of life.  New people start coming. People start crying during the sermons.  The worship starts getting some electricity (by the Spirit) to it. Your offerings start growing.  You feel momentum shifting. 

And you and your wife stop freaking out.  You stop feeling trapped.  You start feeling excited, start looking forward to next Sunday.

God starts working.

"What, even here?  Even now?  After all this?  Could it be?"

Well, yes it could.

Check out the 'official' three month update here.

And pray for us when you think of it.

(and thanks for that, by the way...)

T

ps: and the picture off the top is to remind me what 'evangelistic fervor' looks like. That was a sign my kids spontaneously made Halloween night after doing their rounds.  They wanted to share their bounty with their city--kind of like what we want to do at THE WELL.

lay them bricks...

I've been getting some unusually strong response to one of my recent sermons.

Specifically, the content has to do with finding a way to be happy in your vocation.

If you're one of my readers who has absolutely no 'faith-oriented' inclination then this link isn't for you as it'll take you to a 'sermon' with all of the bias, assumption and cultural enmeshedness that you'd expect of that type of thing.

However, if you know you won't be turned off by all the "Jesus" in it, (or are feeling unusually intrigued by 'them christians' today) then you might find it helpful, specifically if your JOB is getting you down lately.

My hope is help inspire you to 'keep at it'.

Best,

T

300...

That's my Grandma in there.

Well, not my Grandma, but her body.  See the note stuck in the middle?  That's from one of her 25 great-grandkids.  "We love you Grandma! Can't wait to see you again..."

That kind of note.

A note full of hope.

Like her funeral.  Like her life.

Hope.

I'm wondering if there's hope in your life these days?  How are things going? Are you sensing stagnation or momentum in your life and work?

It's funny, for me, things have been a bit of a grind the last three months.  Part of that has had to do with getting ready to launch, and actually launching THE WELL our second 'from-scratch' church plant. Part of it is connected to coming to the end of our producing year which always means a 'gee, so what do you think is next for us..." moment or two.

(the joys of independent production)

Part of it has to do with a wife who is getting more and more invested in her career which is a great thing and is changing the rhythms of life for us a bit and that--as it always does--takes some adjusting.

But I thought I'd mention that I do feel a sense of momentum.  This past Sunday at THE WELL I could just 'feel' it.  It's not that there was any tangible thing that happened to put my sense of things into that 'positive' zone--well, we did have six new people, which was cool and (at the same time) illustrates how tiny we are at the moment where six are noticed and cheered--it's just that things 'felt' different to me.

Momentum.

You can feel it, and the lack of it.

Thing is, I don't know of any foolproof way to generate momentum.  I mean, sure, I know how to work and keep working.  I know how to 'make myself available' but I also know that I'm absolutely unable to conjure it (momentum) out of thin air.

So I've found that the trick is simply to survive long enough for it to find you.

We're eleven weeks into THE WELL.  I'm ten years into my media career.  I'm thirteen years into my marriage, ten years into being a Dad.  I've followed Jesus for twenty four years, have lived for thirty five.

Momentum.

I'm feeling a little bit of it.

I had dinner with the very high-powered President of a major corporation a couple months back.  He's mid-forties.  We got talking about my life and career.  He said, "You're 35?  Then you're right on-track.  Just watch, the next ten years of your life are where your revenue-generating capability will catch up with all the work you've done the past fifteen years."

Here's hoping.

I mean, he should know, but you never know.

All the above to say this.

I think I'll just keep trekking.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Waiting for momentum and living my life well (like Grandma did) in the meantime.

You too?

T

The me I used to be on TV...

That's 'season five' of FREETV you're looking at right there.

Shot in a TINY studio downtown Toronto, cast with mostly friends and friends of friends 'cause we couldn't afford to do any different.  Set with borrowed furniture from EQ3 and Pier 1 that we had to handle with kid gloves to the point that, at the end of our last day's shooting, my Executive Producer was tasked with the very non-executive-like task of 'pledge-ing' the crap out of the tables to try and eliminate the scratches so that we wouldn't be charged for the tables upon their return.

Glamorous.

Not at all.

A little different from where we are today, and yet, today still feels no different in its own 'moment'.  We're still doing things we don't really want to do, still stressing about the budget, though by this point it's more than fifty times what it was then.

Progress.

Maybe, but mostly small.

The thing is, we're still at it.  We started producing 'season one' of that same show back in 1998. That's a million years ago, but we're still at it, hoping to get fifty times bigger still.

Crazy, humbling, overwhelming and exciting.

T

From Grandma...

My Grandma died this week.

She was 101.

It was time.

Monday I helped my Mom move Grandma (or her stuff) out of her last place.

Two trolley's worth was all that was left.  One above, and one below.

Her last address.  A special photo of her and my grandpa from their younger days.

Her last bed. The room all cleared out, ready for the next grandma.

How we'll remember them.  Mom noted that it's appropriate that the photograph of her and grandpa (the original photograph from which many copies have been made) is starting to fade.

Poetic.

That's how I'd describe her life.

Poetic.

She was a wonderful woman.  Kind, gentle, wise.  Loved her husband and her kids.  Made a huge impact on many lives.

Grandma.

And, you know, as Mom and I moved Granda's stuff out I got to thinking about you and me and about the fact that we're going to go someday too.  

And you might have more than two trolley's worth left but really what you'll have left is your family and your friends and their family and friends and offspring--the people you impacted with your kindness, your gentleness and your accumulated wisdom.

As I packed up her meager belongings I kept thinking about the richness of life she left behind in her kids and her grandkids and her great-grandkids.

And that reminded me to live my life in such a way that it's not the things I leave behind but the people, and what I've invested into their lives.

'Course, if you live your life right, you leave so much behind that nobody would be able to handle the trolleys.

And that'd be a life well-lived.

Like my Grandma's.

Love you K.

T

Up to no good...

I know I've mentioned it a few times but, for those of you who have some passing interest in the work I do on the 'media side' of things, I thought I'd link to an article that ran a couple months back on UNSCRIPTED one of the things I'm currently producing...

Enjoy.

T

What's your point?

I use cue cards for everything.

Grocery lists for shopping.  Story points for screenplays.  Blocking diagrams for directing.  Or to make sure I've made my point when preaching.

That there card is 'the point' of what I'm going to try and do tomorrow as I step up to preach at THE WELL.

Thought you might like to read it and/or pop by to see us in-person or peep the podcast when it's uploaded Sunday night.

'Cause--at the end of it all--all of this is for you.

T