Some Goals for 2016

At the end of 2015, I had the privilege of sitting through the funeral of a friend. In my line of work, funerals are a part of the package, but this was for a friend who was not on our hospice. His wife was one of my co-workers for almost ten years, so I got to know Don through that. However, I came to realize that I really didn't know Don at all. About ten years before I met him, he had a stroke that forever altered who he was. The Don that I knew was only a shadow of the man that was remembered that day.

That remembrance got me thinking. (All funerals should be an opportunity for reflection, after all.) Don had his stroke at age 60. For me, that's only 19 years down the road. If something were to happen to me in 20 years (or less), what would I look back and remember of my life? Lots of time at the office? Lots of saying "no" to my kids in order to work for that elusive financial security? Lots of late nights worrying and long days working?

As I have grown older, New Year's Day has become my favorite holiday. As I continue to work out my faith, I become more and more convinced that my "dominant image" of Jesus is the Redeemer, the one who makes all things new. A new year is a natural time for new things to happen and for old things to pass away. And rather than make resolutions, I choose to make goals -- tangible, measurable, achievable goals. (One goal for 2016 is to blog weekly. So far, so good.) This year includes some REALLY seismic goals, so I've been told that the best way to achieve them is to proclaim them and then allow your community to hold you to them. Over the coming weeks in this blog, I will lay out some of those goals. This first one is a biggie, so I thought I would devote my first blog of 2016 to it.

I woke up a few weeks ago and realized that I have four more years with my oldest daughter under my roof. Six years left with the 12-year-old. And the family dynamics of four children in a blended family have proven challenging, especially since I have four active kids in four different schools. So a change is in the works.

Before I lay those out, please know that I love the company I work for, Accolade Hospice, I love the people I work with and for, I love hospice work. I hope to continue my partnership with Accolade long into the future. I have learned so much about life by being around people with terminal diagnoses and the people that care for them. When I left the "church system" four years ago (THAT will be a topic for another blog), I wasn't sure that I could provide for my family outside of that system. The last four years have proven that I absolutely can.

They've also shown me that, when it comes to vocation, I am a little ADD. I have done the hospice thing and the t-shirt thing. I've done some book buying and selling. I've done some worship leading and some preaching. And I have enjoyed aspects of everything that I have done. But the one piece that I'm not really wired for is a 9-to-5, M-F office job. I can make it work when I have to, but it is not my preference. (I'm also not a big fan of business casual, but that's not a surprise to anyone reading this.)

So, there are some changes coming down the pike. Accolade is a very generous company and I am glad to be a part of that team. But I am looking at hopefully transitioning to a different role, which will require that I replace some income somehow. One of the arms of this plan has to do with my t-shirt job with Yahwear (www.facebook.com/yahwear). My hope is that, by pouring more time into marketing and customer relations, I can bring in a good chunk more business for that company. If you need custom t-shirts, polo shirts, promo items, etc., shoot me an email (dave@yahwear.net) and I'll take care of you!

The second arm of the plan is a network marketing gig. I sat down with an old friend to talk about the pros and cons of network marketing, and she convinced me that I could be successful at it. And she signed me up to work with her. I am officially a distributor for It Works! Now, I am still learning the company and the products, but I am excited about the possibilities! More than anything, I am hoping that this frees Wendy and me up to spend more quality time with our (soon-to-be-grown) kids and to spend more quality time together.

Over the course of the next few months (and beyond) you'll see a lot of posts (FB, Instagram, Twitter) from me trying to grow that business. I'll be looking for two types of people -- people that want to try some new products and give me some testimonies to be able to tell (Wendy and I can't use ALL the products) and people who want to jump on board with me and achieve some dreams and goals that go along with a successful It Works! business. My aforementioned friend moved from owning a brick-and-mortar business to just doing It Works! within a year of starting, so it can be done. It's going to require a lot of effort, but I think we can get there. My goal is to transition at Accolade by May of this year, so I have to get after it.

I never would have imagined this path for myself -- network marketing, It Works!, hospice -- none of it. But I am excited about what the future holds. If you are at all interested in what I'm up to, drop me an email (dave@raintreepm.org or dave@yahwear.org). If you're curious about It Works! and interested in knowing more, check out our product line at my website: http://davedrake.myitworks.com/ If you're up for a cup of coffee to catch up, I'm down with that, too. You can call or text me at 806-773-8413.

2016 is shaping up to be a fun year. I'll tell you more about it next time!

Friends

One of the things that I enjoy about Facebook is the ability to keep up with what’s happening in my friend’s lives without having to work very hard.  I can see pictures of this friend’s trip to Disney and follow the exploits of the child of this friend without ever interacting with those friends.  (One of the things I HATE about Facebook is how opinionated and stupid some of my friends sound with their posts and links, but that’s a topic for another blog.)

As I am writing today, I am on a train from Fort Worth to Lincoln, IL, to spend some time with my mom, who is on hospice.  I woke up this morning in St. Louis and decided to move to the Observation Car to see the beauty of Southern/Central Illinois in the winter (note sarcasm, please).  About 7:30 this morning, my phone rang and the name was one of an old friend that I haven’t talked to in entirely too long.  We chatted about his recent trip to South America, my mom’s illness, church work, my future plans, the upcoming Super Bowl, etc.  It was a much-needed talk.

And it got me thinking.  Too often in our connected/digital/technology-driven world, we are satisfied with the illusion of community instead of meaningful community.  I would contend that, despite our ability to easily connect with friends and loved ones in unprecedented ways (Facebook, blogs, Twitter, FaceTime), we are lonelier than we’ve ever been.  In a world of fantasy sports and fantasy sex, we have settled for fantasy community.  And our souls are more damaged because of it.

My friend, Steven, simply used his morning commute to reconnect with a friend.  And it made my day.  Seeing pics of his sweet family on Facebook is one thing; hearing the love in his voice for his amazing wife and beautiful kid is something entirely different.

And sacred.

And real.

And just what I needed to hear in the midst of a difficult stretch.

Be. With.

In my job as a volunteer coordinator with a local hospice, death and sadness are always around.  That's a little bit the nature of the work.  On a daily basis we deal with families who have lost, are losing, or will lose a loved one.  And while that comes with the territory in hospice, it doesn't make it any less sad.

Today I made a visit to some friends who are just beginning to take in and care for elderly/dying people in their home.  It was a little bit of a work trip -- they were having an open house to show off their home -- but I made it mostly to say hey to some friends.  As they were showing off their house, they took me to one of the bedrooms.  The room was still decorated with their family stuff, including a picture of their son-in-law who recently took his own life.  While the friend played it off pretty quickly, the nature of her words showed me that there was still a good deal of pain and sadness associated with that memory.

Once a month at our company, we have an all-staff meeting.  As a part of that meeting, we have a prayer time and allow people to share prayer requests.  This month's prayer requests included a local teenager who had ended his life and another teenager who was being taken off of life support so that his organs could be harvested.  The people that shared these requests were casual acquaintances, yet the sadness was evident.  I can't imagine the feelings held by the immediate families.  What profound sadness.

I have noticed in my years of ministry that churches and Christians don't typically do sadness very well.  Not that we aren't sad; it's just that we don't know what to do with our sadness or the sadness of others. We somehow believe that it is the job of the follower of Jesus to offer some sort of encouragement that will make the person grieving magically "get over it."  Rarely do we acknowledge that there are usually no good solutions to such sadness.

In the book of Job there is the story of a very righteous, successful man who has his life crash down around him.  In one horrific day, he loses everything that is dear to him.  After everything is taken away from him, he sits in ashes and mourns the losses.  A group of his Christian friends come to offer their insight.  (Yes, Mr. Smartypants Theologian, I know that Christians are a New Testament creation and this is an Old Testament book.  But in the story, these friends want to speak conclusively on behalf of God, so they're playing the role that most of us Christ followers believe is ours to play.)

These friends came from a worldview that offered only one plausible solution when life crashes down.  Clearly, Job had some deep dark secrets that he was hiding that only God could see and thus punish him for.  So for chapters and chapters and chapters and chapters the friends argue with Job in an attempt to get the "truth" out of him.  My hope would be that their quest for the "truth" is a deep desire to see Job redeemed and restored.  My experience with such "truth" seekers is that they are usually wanting to get the good dirt on someone so that they can pass that along.  Maybe during their next prayer group.

I have lots of things that I could say about these "friends," but they actually did one thing right.  When the story of Job's calamity first reaches them, the hustle to Job's side, where they sit with him.

In silence.

For days.

No canned responses.  No soothing platitudes.  No misinformed opinions.

Just sit.

And be.

With.

Much of the sadness in our society comes from the fact that we are a disconnected people.  We have such amazing connectivity tools like iPads and smartphones, Facebook and Blogger, but we have lost the ability to be with someone.  We forget what it was like when we were sad.  We knew that no one could bring back what was lost, but we needed someone to be with us.  Not because they had answers.  Not because they had a similar experience.  We just wanted our sadness and pain to be recognized.  We wanted to know that, despite the profound loss we had experienced, 

we were not alone.

Someone was there to

be

with

us.

It's not that misery loves company; it's that unless misery has community, it will never move on.  It will never transform.  It will never be redeemed.

And that is perhaps the deepest sadness there can be.

New jobs and such

I began a new job this week.  As of yesterday, I am the Volunteer Coordinator for Accolade Hospice here in Lubbock.  This will be my first non-church career, so it's been quite an adjustment already.  Like any job in the medical field, most of this week will be training videos and reading, which makes for thrilling days.  But I love the organization that I am working for and get the sense that they believe that I'm the right person for the job, so I'm excited about where this may be going.  I really feel like I'm working with a great team of people.

In addition to watching the standard training videos this week, there is also a national volunteer conference for people in my position.  So, I have watched a couple of these conference webinars in an attempt to better understand what it is that I am supposed to be doing.  Yesterday I watched a seminar on how to approach faith communities about volunteering with a hospice organization.  While the webinar is going on, there is a chat window where people can interact and ask questions based on what the speaker was covering.

It was pretty astounding to watch what people's perceptions of churches are.  Comments like, "I approached one pastor who asked me why he would let me try to drum up volunteers for my organization when they won't even volunteer for children's ministry." Or "Pastors don't want anyone that can't help out their church."  Or "One pastor asked me how much money I wanted.  When I said I didn't want any, he told me that they couldn't help me."  Over and over again the comments painted a church that was only concerned about itself and what was needed to keep the machine of church running.

It really saddened me, because I think the vision that Jesus had (and has) for his church is so much larger.  You can argue with me if you would like (that's what the comment section below is for), but I believe that Jesus expects no less from his church than the redemption of the world.  Pretty major vision.  Or, as my Twitter friend Bob Goff says it, "God's plan for the world is as simple as it is inexplicable: It's us."  When all the world sees in us is that we only care for ourselves, our people, our programs, something has gone terribly wrong.

Something has gone terribly wrong.