The Leadership Summit #5 (Boo on Wireless)

Yesterday I commited to posting my five key take-aways from each Leadership Summit session. Unfortunately, my wireless tanked on me shortly after typing that. Boo on wireless.

I'm easily frustrated by technology glitches, and so I found myself paying more attention to trying to get my stupid computer to work than to the speakers. So, I'm leaving the laptop at home today. My plan is to take notes today the, uh, "vintage" way and then blog my top 5's this weekend.

In the meantime, if you're anxious for thorough session notes, check out Tim Schraeder's blog. That guy's a rock star.

The Leadership Summit #4 (Hamel)

Manage Differently NOW

1. Success is a self-correcting phenomenon. Most of what we do today will be rendered irrelevant by the future. (Note: This doesn't apply to our credo beliefs; it's about our methods.) We must embrace humility as a survival strategy.
2. We must overcome the temptation to take refuge in denial. Every organization is successful until it's not.
3. We must generate more strategic options/more new thinking. It takes 1,000 crazy ideas to generate the one that will transform an organization.
4. We must de-construct what we already do. Look at our initiatives and ask, "What hasn't changed for three years and why?" Is it better to plant clones of our church or to develop radically unique approaches? It's easy to mistake the end of your rut for the horizon. God expects us to be as unconventional as it takes to get His message out there.
5. We must get rid of top-down, autocratic systems. When the mental models of those in leadership depreciate faster than their power does, we're in trouble. Is the challenge building great leaders or to develop organizations that can thrive even without super-heros at the top? The early church was spiritually powerful and institutionally weak, and the church today is often the opposite.

Leadership Summit #3 (Hybels, Cloud, Lencioni, Fiorina, Ireland)

Hiring, Firing, and Board Meltdowns

1. When you make a decision about someone in a great state of need, you'll idealize them into something you want them to be.
2. To really get to know a job candidate, take them out of the typical interview situation and into another setting where you'll see the "real" person. (Lencioni takes 'em shopping.)
3. It is not compassionate to be dishonest with people. It's disrespectful. The most important gift you can give someone is candor--with care, concern, and compassion. The kindest form of management is the truth.
4. We ask people in leadership to do things that they're ill-equipped to do, and then we wonder why sickness spreads through our organizations.
5. If people have to be laid off because of economics, handling the situation with care and clarity is critical.

Leadership Summit #2 (Hybels)

Leading in a New Reality

1. Sometimes you have to make a philosophical decision--not an economic or pragmatic one--if you truly believe that the local church is the hope of the world.
2. Advocate for the powerless and hold the powerful accountable to do what they should be doing.
3. We must have an adequate replenishment strategy in place to offset how we're pouring ourselves into our work, especially in this new reality. "The pace at which I'm doing the work of God is destroying the work of God in me."
4. Develop a planned negligence strategy. Decide what you can ignore. Determine the opportunities you don't need to take advantage of. Reorder relationship priorities toward those who give you energy and away from those who deplete you.
5. The best thing you bring to the table is a filled-up bucket, a fresh spirit, and a grace-filled demeanor. So do whatever you can to get in that condition.

Leadership Summit #1

It's day one of the Leadership Summit (TLS) . . . and I'm trying to get myself settled in and settled down. I look forward to TLS every year with a mixture of anticipation and, if I'm being honest, stress. At the back end of the Summit, without fail, I walk away with a "Wow" or, maybe even more important, an "Uh-oh." But on the front end, I'm worried about what's not getting done in the two days I'm here instead of in front of my desk.

See my pride showing? I mean, seriously: Is the world going to stop spinning on its axis because I'm not working on my to-dos? Hrmph.

Anywho, I'm going to try to do a bit of live-blogging, but I'm challenging myself to do my top 5 (only) take-aways from each session. See you again soon.

Will You Listen, Too?

I’m especially grumpy today. I had a plan in mind for how things were supposed to go . . . and they didn’t.

I was supposed to:
• run through Starbucks for my favorite tea,
• shop for yet another new Scoop-able shirt for Tuesday’s filming,
• stop by Trader Joe’s for some of those lovely crispy green bean snacks, and
• cap off the day with a family picnic at a swanky recreation area.

Instead, I’m:
• sitting poolside at the St. Peters Recplex,
• listening to Yo-Yo Ma through my super amazing earbuds,
• watching a group of girls trying to coax my daughter off the highboard (she finally jumped),
• taking advantage of free city-wide Wifi, and
• complaining to you about my thwarted plans via a $1500 laptop.

Umm, right. Poor, poor Kelley. This gives me cause to be grumpy? What is wrong with me?

I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me (feel free to add more): I can’t remember a time when I had a real fear of doing without. In other words, I’ve never lacked. Yes, I’ve been denied stuff . . . really important stuff (*cough) like hardwood floors and an Audi TT convertible with baseball glove interior and a backyard pool.

But I’ve never lacked a roof . . . a meal . . . shoes . . . an identity.

That identity thing? That’s huge.

I mean, don’t get me wrong: It’s not like I was picked first for dodgeball, captain of the cheer squad, sorority princess (or whatever you’d strive for there), or top-ranked in the Who’s Who of American 38-Year-Olds Who Desire to Write Books But Don’t Prioritize Writing (although that one is, at least, in the realm of possibility).

What I’m trying to say is that despite my heavy leanings toward the uncool, I still fit squarely in the category of Us . . . mostly, I’d argue, because of my socioeconomic status. As such, I’m afforded (pun intended) all sorts of intangible benefits: common courtesy, respect, the benefit of the doubt, eye contact.

And I’m starting to wonder—in the midst of my unreasonable grumpiness—if I’m creeping so far into the Us mentality—if I’m starting to take things so much for granted—that I’m beginning to treat people like Them. Don’t we all? At least to a certain extent?

I mean, we might go downtown and pass out blankets to Them on occasion. Or we might volunteer with Habitat for Humanity and help build Them a house. We might make a donation of time or money to a food pantry that services Them. I’ve done all those things. And because they’re easy and I’ve felt good doing them, I’m still Us, and they’re still Them. (I’m not saying these activities are bad, and I’m certainly not advocating that we end them. I’m just thinking aloud—dangerously, maybe. I've been wondering, lately, if we're even capable of true philanthropy or if there’s always an ulterior, prideful motive behind our efforts. But that's probably another post for another day.)

What’s the solution, then? Better government? Better schools? Better churches? Yes. Yes. Yes. But not the institutions. The people.

What if all of Us started treating everyone like . . . one of Us? What if we all remembered our basic humanity? What if we took the time to really see what’s going on? What if we expended the emotional and psychological energy required to care about what we see?

What if we listened? This guy is listening, and he's giving each of us an opportunity to be a better Us. Are you ready to hear? If so, They're ready to talk.

Reconcilable Differences

In a classic Kelley move, I made an impulsive decision tonight: I've reinstated my Twitter account. (I'm certain I just heard a chorus of, "You did WHAT?!" from somewhere in the vicinity of Morning Star Church.)

I am very aware that I've been a bit back-and-forth on the whole idea of technology and relationships. In September 2008, I was all yippy-skippy about it all, offering three strong statements in defense of my love affair with technology. Five months later, I wrote a farewell missive to Twitter, sharing six quite personal reasons for my decision to bid it adieu.

So, why am I back? What have I learned in the last 60 days that justifies this preteen-like mood swing? Glad you asked. I'll address each of my reasons for saying farewell:

About 140-character bits. I had a real sense that Twitter was wrecking my capacity for higher-level thinking, 140-characters at a time. I've since realized that blaming Twitter for my slow-down in mental functioning is ridiculous. I was experiencing a slow-down because I wasn't sleeping and my nutrition was horrendous. Plus? Thinking in 140-character soundbytes may not be all that bad of a idea, given my leanings toward verbosity. Don't you think?

About productivity. In my farewell post, I explained how Twitter hijacked my time. And I've gotta be honest: This is the one thing I'm most concerned about as I rejoin the conversation. I'll want to follow every link, look at every TwitPic, respond to global questions, and more. But here's the deal: I've recently discovered that I actually have, and can exercise, a goodly amount of willpower. Case in point: I've stopped biting my fingernails. Another: I have a leftover pizza in the fridge, and even though I love cold pizza almost as much as complicated ice cream, I haven't touched it. Yet another: I've willed myself to use my elliptical machine for at least 30 minutes, five-six days every week for the last three months. It boils down to this: Some things are difficult to manage. But some things are worth managing.

About missing things. In short: I'm going to give myself permission to pay attention when I can and to tune out when I need to. And that bit about self-doubt? Again: Not Twitter's fault. That's a whole other Oprah, and it's absolutely ridiculous of me to tune out voices like Kem Meyer's because of my lack of self-confidence.

About being all up in each other's jelly beans*. Here's what I have to say about this concern of mine: It's real and it's a problem. However, this too can be managed through common sense and discernment. Will I still occasionally offer TMI? Of course. That's just how I'm wired up. Will I be, overall, more discriminating about what, when, and how much I tweet? Absolutely. (Which brings to mind the difference between authenticity and transparency--but that's another post for another day. Or, more likely, month.)

*(I learned that phrase at Revolve. It sounded like it meant being in one another's business, and I've been waiting for a chance to use it. Someone clue me in if it means something entirely different. Please.)

About caring who follows me and pride and such. I crave affirmation, and so I'll continue to struggle with this. The key, I think, is deciding not to care about followers and grades and such . . . and then acting like I don't care . . . until I actually don't. This is an ongoing issue for me--the issue of not really behaving as though I have an audience of One. Being away from Twitter for 60 days didn't cure me of that, and I don't think Twitter was feeding my pride nearly as much as I suspected it was.

A new piece: For the last eight weeks, I've felt an acute sense of missing out on a conversation. One of the main reasons I signed on to Twitter in the first place was so I could learn from professionals around the country whom I don't have easy access to any other way. But what I've come to understand is that the knowledge base is just a small piece of what I'm missing. What I've really been missing is the sense that I'm a part of something bigger than me, bigger than Morning Star Church, and bigger than my part of the country. When I hear about what's happening in churches in Georgia and Indiana and California, I'm reminded again and again that the local church really is, as Bill Hybels says, "the hope of the world."

So, that's basically it. If you're unimpressed with my reasons, check out Kem's lastest post. And if you're still unimpressed, that's okay. As for me, I'm venturing out to the Twitterverse once again . . . more humbly, carefully, and reasonably, than before. It's good to be back.

itjustgotpersonal.com

03.29.09, 9:48 pm (Or: There's No Place Like Home)

Goodness . . . I kinda left y'all hanging there for a bit, didn't I? The last couple of days of my Guatemala experience were a little nutso, to be honest (power outage at the mission house, more police escorts, fresh cow snouts, a hike up an active volcano, a drive through a blizzard, and more).

Although I have nearly a dozen posts brewing in my head, real life abruptly begins again tomorrow, and so I've just gotta get some sleep. Thank you so much for coming alongside me . . . reading my blog, praying for me, and just generally sending encouraging thoughts in the general direction of Guatemala.

More soon.

03.28.09, 11:09 am (Or: Little Guy)

03.28.09, 10:51 am (Or: Smiles)

03.27.09, 11:18 pm (Or: I Heart Lists)

The thing about mission trips, I’m learning, is that emotions are all over the place. Earlier tonight, I was a wreck. Now I’m giggling to myself. Since I can’t sleep, I figure I might as well share what I’m giggling about.

1. I came here with two, 50-pound suitcases, one stuffed with supplies that we’re leaving here. That bag is now empty, and so I’ve transferred all my dirty laundry to that one. Although having all my dirty stuff in one place satiates that mild OCD I keep talking about, I’m a little concerned. Here’s why: If customs gets curious about what’s in that bag, I’m liable to be detained for transporting biological weapons. Seriously funky. I’m just being honest.

2. There was this little plant at Sarita’s place that curls up its leaves when you run your finger down them. Weird and wonderful.

3. On the road between La Democracia and San Lucas, there’s a spot in the road that’s on a decline . . . but if you pull to the side of the road, stop, put your car in neutral, and take your foot off the break, you’ll roll backwards . . . which, if you’re paying attention, you’ll realize is uphill. Uh, how’s that work?

4. In Guatemala, Diet Coke is called Coca Cola Light.

5. Years ago Oprah revealed that the most germ-infested place in the world is the bottom of a woman’s purse. Yeah, well . . . I’d hate to take do a culture on the stuff that’s on the bottom of my little backpack after accidentally setting it down on the bathroom floor of the Puma station outside La Democracia today. Oh my goodness that bathroom was disgusting.

6. Remember how I said you can’t flush toilet paper here? Here’s another fun fact about toilet paper in Guatemala: It appears to be optional in restrooms. See # 5 and #7.

7. This afternoon, I saw someone selling four-packs of TP out of the back of their pickup truck.

8. In the last five days, I’ve eaten an absurd amount of dried fruit, nuts, Fiber One bars, dry-roasted edamame . . .and those chewy Rolaids.

9. I miss my elliptical machine.

10. Driving in Guatemala City is an experience unto itself. Also? Pedestrians have NO rights. If you step out in front of one—even with plenty of room—it’s apparently okay for drivers to run you over for the sport of it.

11. Guatemala has 33 volcanoes, four of which are active and one of which I get to hike up on Saturday morning. It’s one of the active ones, so we don’t get to go up to the crater, but I’m told we’ll see flowing lava and we’re supposed to bring stuff to throw in it. I’m so stinking excited I can hardly stand it. (Different, and less sarcastic, than the “Whoopee doo” in the post below.)

12. Gloria, the pastor’s wife at the feeding center we visited today, prayed a blessing over us, “even the blond ones.”

13. I met a Guatemalan girl today named Kelly. Maybe she spells it with the extra E, too.

14. I’ve been told that I can buy--in O’Fallon--the same cornmeal (for tortillas) and refried black beans they use here. Sa-weet!

15. I’m confused about why it’s colder near the top of this mountain than at sea level. Doesn’t heat rise? Aren’t we closer to the sun up here? Help me out, people.