back to it...

In Los Angeles.

(shooting 23 new interviews this week)

And them's the flowers blooming right outside my window. 

Cool right?

I'm just at the Marriot.  We'll move to the swanky hotel where we shoot a little later this week. Just flew in today and will take tomorrow to recover and study then will film Wed/Thurs at ye' high-end Beverly Hills hotel.

The reason for this post however is the flowers.

Beautiful flowers.

I realize the iSight focal length isn't very good and the actual shot turned out kind of 'Monet-ish' but that's not a bad thing.  What got me about it was this random beauty adorning the outside of my simple, humble, kinda' cookie cutter hotel in the city of sprawl.

What that reminded of was the simple truth that in the midst of your cookie cutter life there are sure to be spots of simple beauty also.

And it's worth noting that the flowers aren't tended, they're just growing from the backyard next to us.

That's something that should give you hope.

Beauty just grows.

Yes life is hard.  Yes it feels like we're in a struggle between good/evil, light/dark etc. You feel that push/pull very intensely here in L.A.

But I'm mindful of the fact that the beautiful has won.  The victory is complete--if you believe the stories as I do--and that's why you always find pockets of glory in the midst of the concrete.

'Cause you can't hold beauty back.

No you can't.

T

life is like...

A bowl of cereal.

Life cereal.

It's what we were serving our kids this morning, along with some toast and some scrambled eggs and some orange juice and some sliced apples.  Typically there'd be some yogurt thrown in there but they'd cleaned us out a day or so ago.

And as we stood there putting the finishing touches on each of the plates before taking them outside to our patio I said, "Okay, I'm ready to put the milk in, are you ready?"

'Cause we all know that life cereal gets really soggy if you don't eat it quick.

"Like life..." said the wife.

That'll preach.

See, life cereal is a great cereal.  I loved it as a kid and still love it to this day.  'Course as I've aged I've realized that it's quite sugar-laden and, as a result, we've turned it into a 'treat' cereal with cheerios being their typical cereal choice.  But I still love it.  It's a great cereal.

But it gets soggy real quick.

Right?

You have to get right to it.  If you let it sit for too long all its goodness will mix into an unappetizing mush that invariably ends up left in the bowl then thrown out.

Just like our lives.

(Thanks Niki...great insight)

So many of us are so frozen by fear--of the unknown, of making a mistake, of failure, of the disapproval of our family or peers, of scarcity--that we spend most of our lives just staring at the thing instead of living it.

We've got ideas that we never pursue, dreams that we never work on for anywhere near long enough to make something of, loves we never actualize, kids we don't engage with, jobs we coast through and spouses we take for-granted.

We don't seize the day.  We don't seize the right opportunity.

We don't eat our life.

So, take our cereal experience this morning and use it.  Take a good hard look at your life and decide on one thing you've put off pursuing, or doing, and eat it.

Seriously.

Consume it.  Take it for all it's worth.  Pour your life into it.  Make that dream come true, knowing that even if you fail in the trying you'll be much further ahead than you are today.

'Cause you know it as deep down in your bones as I do.

Life waits for no one.

Don't let yours get soggy.

T

back in the saddle...

So you've heard me reference my preaching by times on this here blog and I posted a couple times in the past month re: my first trip back to it after three and a half years.

The Church where I preached has now posted the sermon so you can either watch it or listen to it...

Here.

T

comforting words...

So I'm working on a sermon that I'll preach at my old Church this coming Sunday.

I'm preaching on the famous passage where Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well one dusty afternoon.

It's mere serendipity that I also happen to be planting a new church to be called 'THE WELL' and that I feel as broken in spirit as that unhappy woman drawing water in the heat of the day.

Serendipity...

I'm reading stuff like:

"...whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again.  The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life..."  (JN 4:14 ESV)

And I'm feeling it.  Comfort.  Such deep comfort.

("AND WATER WILL SPRING UP IN DRY HEARTS AND HOPE WILL BREAK FORTH IN BROKEN SPIRITS!"  wait for it, this Sunday kids...)

Don't you need it?

Man.

Just finished watching the MJ memorial and it was generally so depressing.  I always find people's expressions of grief so interesting.  I find it so telling the ways in which they seek comfort and attempt to rediscover some connection to God in the midst of their sorrow.  And because it is--after all--Hollywood and entertainment type folk we're talking about here (and they're just a mirror of we, the makers of popular culture anyway so this applicable to all of us) these are the type of people for whom syncretism (the blending of diverse belief systems or faiths) is normative.

And nothing kills the effectiveness of a syncretistic lifestyle or outlook like an objective truth.

"Daddy's dead.  Now what?"

And you can either make answer or you can't.

And that's tough isn't it?

And that's moving.

And that's why I'm doing what I'm doing with my life.  Trying to point to that answer.  Trying to live (falteringly) in such a way so as to demonstrate that answer and lean on that answer and love that answer and communicate and proclaim that answer every chance I get.

'Cause it's very clear that people need an answer.

And it's also very clear that not many people are finding what they need just yet.

Back at it.

T

a post to remember...

Oh boy.

(that's what I looked like last time I was a pastor)

My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest and my throat is constricted like it gets before I start sobbing or step out on stage in front of a couple thousand people.

Basically, I'm freaking out.

Why?

Well, I just went and officially put the wheels in motion.

I started a facebook page for our new Church Plant.

That's right.

(that's me leaping off the proverbial cliff...)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

And part of me's thinking, "Well it's about time.  What, were you creating sermon series notes and applying to the school board for that theater and the government for the charity number and recruiting worship leaders and starting to talk to people casually about it and registering the website for fun?"

Well, no.

But, it seems a whole other thing to put it 'out there' on facebook.  A whole other thing.

My blood pressure is spiking.

See, I know what I've just gotten myself into.  I mean, I don't 'know' all the little details pertaining to what this next stage of our lives is going to look like but I do know some things...

I know this is going to be lots of hard work.

I know I'm going to keep producing as the doors open for me to continue doing so.

I know the location will be hard to lock.

I know the first eight Sunday's will be so hard I'll wonder why we did this again.

I know we'll be smaller than I'd hoped for some time.

I know that six months in the freaks will start showing up.

I know that a year in some of the people who were there at the beginning will start hating me.

I know that we'll stress the finances for at least three years and probably forever.

I know that people are going to love worshipping.

I know that--so long as I do my part--the preaching will be refreshing and inspiring.

I know that I'll lose some TV and Film opportunities because of this.

I know that I'll gain some TV and Film opportunities because of this.

I know that my kids will love it.

I know that set up and tear down is going to SUCK for the first while.

I know that young people will start coming.

I know that people's lives will start changing.

Including mine.

"THE WELL: a burlington church".

Coming September 13, 2009.

(www.wellchurch.ca)

Details to follow--or heck--you can visit us on facebook.

Sheesh and God help me!

T

you never know who's listening...

That's me in the corner reading, a million years ago.

That's the first annual 'retreat' we did for our brand new Church Plant--probably back in late 2001.

I was preparing a morning devotion and reading some 'love letters' from our people.  The letters weren't for me, they were from them to the Church as a whole.  We'd ask them to write one when they felt ready to make our Church 'their' Church.  The letters would say why they're 'in' and what that was going to 'mean' for them.

We got them to do it to help them make a tangible decision and so that we could take their decision seriously and so that--if it ever came to it--I could sit across the table from them, slide them their letter and tell 'em to either abide in what they'd said and with us or take it and leave.

Anyway, like I said, a million years ago.

As I think back over the things we did in planting that Church I can't help but fixate on all the things we did wrong, the many details we left undone and the many things we sweated over that we should have let slide.

So many mistakes.

Part of it had to do with being young.  I think I was 26 when we planted the Church.  What do you know when you're twenty six?  I mean, you know some things, but not enough things.  You have a 'sense' of what's right but you probably haven't suffered anywhere near enough to be wise.

I met with one of my mentors last week--in fact I met with two of 'em--and they both said basically the same thing, regarding their 'take' on who I am today vs who I was nigh on ten years ago.

"Beware of the man who doesn't limp..."

That's what they said.

Then...

"Now, you limp..."

I limp.

Damn right I limp.

Lemme' count the ways.

(or let's not count 'em but you think about yours and I'll think about mine)

What's really funny about life is that as you live and do what you've been called to do--with all your weaknesses and shortcomings--you find that, over time, you end up making an impact on the people around you.

See, you didn't really know it all, even though you thought you did, but neither did they.

And that's got me thinking about the work I'm doing today as a producer and preacher.  I'm going back to that first Church of ours this Sunday.  I'll be preaching.  It'll be quite the trip to step back in time to some degree and what's really interesting about it is the fact that I'm a totally different guy in some ways then I was the last time I spoke there but in other ways I'm totally the same guy.

Some things change and some things don't.

I still read, a lot.  I still own that same sweatshirt you see in the shot.  I still own the Bible that's sitting on my lap although I've switched to a new one for this next stage as a preacher.  I still know many of the people in that shot, I'm still friends with the guy who took it.  I still have that box you see on the ground and the love letters are still in it.

The lives that were changed are still changing.

So here's the point.

No matter how listless and irregular you feel, no matter how down, no matter how lost or overwhelmed you feel you need to keep doing what you do.

Because no matter how good or great or bad or lousy or insignificant it feels at the time, so long as your work comes from the heart in authenticity and your concern is the life and welfare of others, you will be making impact.

And, like that picture, the impact lasts.

And lasts.

And lasts.

T

expectations management...

Sometimes it feels weird mining your life and experience for moments to blog about.  I mean, if you're trying to write a blog that's of some 'use' to your readers that is.

It's not all about me--'cause it's ultimately for you--but it is all about me in a way 'cause it comes only out of my life experience.

So what I'm about to write is slightly embarrassing and I get it and I know it's strange to talk about yourself like this and I realize that some of you will mock me for it but I hope--even in the midst of my cringing--that some few of you might take something good from this.

Making all the mocking worthwhile.

So, without further ado...

My wife made the cake and cupcakes you see above.  

I iced them.

And here's the story.  We were at our friend's place for our second annual 'Canada Day' bbq--I posted about it last year in fact--and Niki asked me if I'd ice the cake and cupcakes 'cause she hadn't had a chance before we left.

No problem, I'll ice 'em.

So I get to it.  And I just do what I always do.  I try to make 'em as nice as possible given my limited talents and the resources on hand.

When I finished I heard three things:

1) They look SO nice!

2) I can't believe you were icing those for AN HOUR!

3) Typical Todd.

And this is a humbling lesson to me--if for no other reason that I know how precarious positivity can be--in what it takes to make a good impression on people over the long term.

Here's what hit me and what might prove useful to you.

You build your reputation over time and with every little thing that you do.

How you ice a cake preaches.  How you treat a PA speaks to how you'll treat your starlet.  

Everything preaches.

And with people who are somewhat outside of the norm in terms of generating results that have long-term impact it's my bet that you'll find that those people ice a cake just as carefully as they write a sermon or edit a television special.

It's attention to detail and it's caring about the end-result and it's having a sense of love for your audience.

I wanted my friends to love the cake.  Not 'cause I wanted their props, I just wanted them to feel like I cared enough to make 'em something beautiful.

And I did genuinely care.  And that scares me 'cause that means I have to have a lot more caring in my life.  I've got to care about so much and that caring has got to drive me to work very hard for a very long time.

Plus, if you ever take your foot off the gas you don't get to coast for long.

Sobering.

And motivating.

So on that note--for me and for you--I say...

Back to work.

T