Book Review: The Emotionally Healthy Church

Because I spent an entire day in bed this weekend, due to the bottom half of my body becoming separated from my top half, I read an entire book. It was probably too much information to really let sink in all at once – especially since I had just attended an all day seminar on Saturday that was also full of heavy information – so I would not recommend reading this in one sitting like I did.

Peter Scazzero spends the first section of the book laying out the total dysfunction of his own life and his work as pastor of New Life Fellowship in Queens, New York, prior to 1996. In this eight year period, he had married, had four children, and planted a new church that was (seemingly) thriving in one of the most richly diverse neighborhoods in America.

But in that year, 1996, his wife confessed to him that she was done with him and done with his church, and she wanted out. This led to an emergency two week leave while he and his wife received crisis marital counseling, which then led to a three month sabbatical from his pastorate at NLF, which then led to a ripple effect of change in the way NLF discipled its people.

His marriage was restored, and his ministry was redeemed.

Through his wife’s drastic measures, Scazzero began to realize he was putting his work before his family – and even before any real relationship with God – and was creating a working environment among the staff and volunteer leaders at NLF that led everyone to do the same. Leaders and members were burning out, becoming embittered, and leaving the church. People who were hurting or trapped in habitual sin were not receiving the prayer and attention they needed, because a shallow culture of simply going through the motions had been established from the top down.

Scazzero makes bold confessions in this book, and is brutally honest about the image of himself he projected during this time. A frequent speaker at church growth conferences, he admits to stretching the truth at times about the size and state of his church.

I read the entire first section of this book with my jaw gaping wide open. I wasn’t so much surprised at the way he was leading others and living his life – I’ve been around the block a few times to be shocked by that – but I was so encouraged that he daringly wrote a book that made him look sooo very bad. There weren’t many ironed edges to his account of the way things were, but he gives us a very frayed story of self image, power, and bad theology that affected hundreds of people in and around his church.

As I continued reading, I wept. Through telling his story, Scazzero gives testimony to the power of conviction, repentance, and submission. Through his own example, through his own drastic change in the way he lived his personal and professional life, lives were transformed and the model of ministry at NLF was radically changed. Staff were encouraged to work reasonable hours and take time off during the week, leaders were given thorough training and strongly encouraged to set clear boundaries in their ministries. People were actually being discipled, through love, tough words, and encouragement because their small group leaders were setting an example of confession and repentance.

The culture of ministry changed from leading out of strength and pride, to leading out of brokenness and humility.

Scazzero had made the near-fatal error of compartmentalizing his ‘spiritual’ life from his ‘practical’ life, thereby placing more importance on ‘doing the work of God’ over attending his children’s soccer games or getting to the heart of what people were struggling with. He had also become co-dependent with his work – dropping everything for whatever emergency came up during his family time. He had set no boundaries around himself or his family. He writes:

Jesus does call us to die to ourselves. ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me’ (Mark 8:34). The problem was that we had died to the wrong things.

Structurally, one of the things I like about the book is the way each chapter in the section on Six Principles of an Emotionally Healthy Church begins with the statement, ‘In emotionally healthy churches, people…’ The paragraph proceeds to describe how members and leaders within a healthy church deal with conflict, or whatever that principle happens to be. From there it deconstructs our faulty thinking and faulty theology, and leads the reader through scripture into a healthier way.

Sazzero also references many respected authors and books, such as C.S. Lewis, Richard Foster’s The Celebration of Discipline, Henry Cloud and John Townsend, and Dan Allender’s, The Cry of the Soul. Also, themes in this book remind me of themes I’ve read in Larry Crabb’s Soul Talk, and in Timothy Lane and Paul Tripp’s How People Change and Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands.

I am – perhaps freakishly – passionate about these issues of leadership and church burnout. In the last fifteen years I have burned out of three churches, and have seen countless people leave these congregations because they have been ignored, bullied, over worked, and under nourished. I personally have submitted myself to the (false) idea that working on church fliers at Kinko’s until 1am and attending daily prayer meetings at 6am is an excellent way for me to serve God.

I have since learned to set boundaries. I don’t feel pressured to jump in and serve, but seek where I am uniquely gifted to serve. Jesus is at the center of all things, not me, or the pastor, or any particular created vision.

I highly recommend this book to leaders and members of churches, especially those who are feeling tired and burned out and without focus. I pray it will open your eyes, and lift a weight off your shoulders.

Reasons to believe it may be time to hit the gym again

    5. I toss and turn at night, uncomfortable and restless.

    4. When getting out of bed each morning, I grip the wall nervously, not quite sure if the joints and muscles in my legs will be able to hold me up.

    3. After sitting for an extended period of time to read or write, my back and leg muscles are stiff, and I can’t walk again until I do a little stretch and shift dance.

    2. The needle on the scale appears to be stuck.

    1. When bending over to pull up my pants, something in my back cracks, and I fall to the floor in writhing pain.

I am writing to you from my bed where I am lying flat on my back. And even this hurts, so I will make it snappy:

I think my tail bone fell off.

One minute I am the vision of beautifully dysfunctional health, and the next, I am looking my own mortality straight in the eye. I will be 36 years old next month – not exactly the age in which I thought my body would decide to go on strike. My 72 year old mother just recently starting complaining about arthritis pain, for crying out loud.

Ironically, just yesterday a friend and I were talking about how many more excuses we could possibly come up with before we just got off our asses and exercised. At this point it’s not even about losing weight for me – though that would be an excellent by product. No, I think the important thing for me right now is to be able to walk, and play with my kids, and pull up my pants without my tail bone falling off.

If my chiropractor can fix this, I will see you at the gym on Monday. Or maybe Tuesday… let’s give the back a day to rest, shall we?

The Emotionally Healthy Jen

When I last saw my therapist we went over a self evaluation he’d previously given me. It was an inventory of spiritual and emotional maturity taken from the book, The Emotionally Healthy Church, by Peter Scazzero. Taking this test has shattered the fear and mystery surrounding one of my most embarrassing traits.

I talk about myself too much. When I hear a story? I rush in and tell a related story. Got an aunt with skin cancer? I had a step-dad with lung cancer. Caught your finger in the car door? I once fell off a curb. Sometimes I’m thinking so frantically about what to say next, that I miss half of what the other person is saying. Or I completely blow over some serious thing she has just said, because, Oh guess what! me too! and let me tell you about it…

I am insanely self conscious about this habit, but when I see it coming it’s like a train wreck happening in warp speed and my brain is stuck in slow motion. I can’t seem to help myself, but just after the words come out of my mouth I feel like an idiot. I spend a lot of time in the ladies room at social events, smacking my forehead and chanting, “STUPID STUPID STUPID GIRL! SHUT UP A LISTEN, FOR GOD’S SAKE!”

Just the other day a friend blogged about reaching a physical and emotional milestone in training for a 5K run. I know her personally and I follow her blog, so I’m well aware that this milestone is not just about running, but about discipline and overcoming dysfunctional habits as well. But instead of commenting on her success or encouraging her, I dive right into a story about my own kid’s latest swear word because she mentioned her son said “crap.”

I seriously did that. Go ahead, click on that link and scroll down. Not only did I do that, but I commented first, and it was, like thirty seconds after she posted.

WTF?

Who the fah cares?

I was horrified when I checked back into the conversation a day later to find that, like, millions of other people congratulated or encouraged her, only they didn’t say one frackin’ thing about themselves! Because it’s not! about! me!

Back to therapy. The inventory is designed to evaluate whether you are an Emotional Infant, Child, Adolescent, or Adult. On all accounts except one, I scored that I am an Emotional Adolescent (on the one, I scored as an Emotional Child, to which that description also fits me well). Here is the description I read of an Emotional Adolescent, the description which I seemed to have defined:

Like a physical adolescent, I know the right ways I should behave in order to “fit in” mature, adult society. I can feel threatened and alarmed inside when I am offered constructive criticism, quickly becoming defensive. I subconsciously keep records on the love I give out, so I can ask for something in return at a later time. When I am in conflict, I might admit some fault in the matter, but I will insist on demonstrating the guilt of the other party, proving why they are more to blame. Because of my commitment to self-survival, I have trouble really listening to another person’s pain, disappointments, or needs without becoming preoccupied with myself (italics added).

Really, I could write an essay on how each sentence of this description nails me. Especially the sentence about mildly accepting blame while taking the opportunity to take the other person (Bryan) down with me.

But this essay is about my self preoccupation.

And there it is. It is Named. It is no longer something I wonder why about, or something to smack my forehead over, because now I can learn more about why I do it and how I can stop. I feel empowered.

When I actually read the whole book, I will let you know how it goes.

[Excerpt taken from Pete Scazzero with Warren Bird, The Emotionally Healthy Church (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003). For more information contact www.newlifefellowship.org or www.emotionallyhealthychurch.com.]

blogging = fear + failure

I read another great essay by Scott Berkun on Creative Thinking Hacks. He makes the great point that most ideas are a combination of other ideas:

Every amazing creative thing you’ve ever seen, or idea you’ve ever heard can be broken down into smaller ideas that existed before. An automobile? An engine + wheels. A telephone? Electricity and sound. Reese’s peanut butter cups? Peanut butter and chocolate. All great creative ideas, inventions, and theories are comprised of other ideas.

I often try too hard to write. I get an idea brewing in my head about something, and I keep it at arms length – dancing around it, describing it coldly, and I get stuck at a dead end. And then I scream and pull my hair out and snap at Bryan, and he says to me, “Why are you coming at it that way? Just write about your experience with it.” And I do. And it comes out brilliant.

Sometimes I think I have to be new, and shiny, and smart, and the first to ever say it. But that’s not always what makes good writing. Annie Lamott once said in an interview on our local NPR station that she writes about universal experiences – i.e. nothing new – but she writes from her own perspective, which gives us, the reader, a fresh perspective on the universe.

In his essay Scott also addresses our fear of creating:

Half the challenge of being creative is turning fears off, and trying out ideas even if we think they might not work or are unsure of what will happen. Weird ideas almost always teach us something we could not have learned any other way, and improve the chances the next combo will be more useful.

One way to think of creative people is that they’re the ones who have more control over their fears, or simply have less fear of embarrassment. Being creative has more to do with being fearless than intelligent, brilliant or any other adjective superficially associated with creativity. This explains why many people feel more creative when drinking, on other drugs, or late at night: these are all moments when our inhibitions are lower, or at least altered, and we allow ourselves to see more combinations of things than we do at other times.

Besides the fact that I’m always up for justifying drunk blogging, I love the fact that he obliterates the alter we put creative people on. I do this all the time when I read authors and other bloggers. I melt over a brilliant phrase, or an image, or the way a story is told, and I think to myself that she deserves success more than I do. We certainly can’t discount the benefits of education or natural talent or hard work, but what brilliant book is going to be published if the writer is too afraid to put words onto a page?

I’ve said before that blogging has been my trust fall. I closed my eyes, folded my arms, and leaned back into it, and trusted that the internet would catch me. And it did. I definitely have more confidence in my writing now than I did two years ago, largely because blogging has removed the fear.

If you are a creative type looking for ways to get over your creative hurdles, I recommend reading the entire essay. It’s witty and wise.

More about me (aren’t you excited?!)

When it comes to Getting Things Done, I’m a bit maddening. Just ask Bryan. I like to skip all the yucky projects and do the fun ones. Or start the fun projects until they get yucky, and then abandon them. I make schedules. I break schedules. I clean my house 15 minutes before you come over. Unless I’ve kept it meticulously clean all week.

On the Meyers-Briggs type indicator I am an INFX. An X, you say? There is no X in the Meyers-Briggs type indicator! There is if you score in the middle of the two types, which I did in the case of the P/J. Scoring in the middle of this particular … whatever you call it … explained a lot to me about why I’m such a weirdo. Why? Because, by way of the most basic explanation, a J prefers order and structure, and a P prefers flexibility and spontaneity.

It explained why, as a kid, I had more fun creating written schedules than following them. It explained why, at a particular job I had in NY, I worked in three different positions – creating or reorganizing each one, then getting completely bored with maintaining the work load. It explained why I loved buying new date books at the beginning of every year, but often forgot to use them by April-ish. It explained why I love making and prioritizing a to-do list, but end up doing whatever I feel like doing next.

When I find myself in a situation of chaos and disorder, I get a little overwhelmed and whip everything into shape. I break out the label maker, I make lists, I create schedules, because dammit – I WANT ORDER. That’s fun for awhile and I feel so free with everything put in its place – until I start to feel trapped by my own doing. Suddenly I can’t stand the predictability of something scheduled every day, and what if I don’t want to start my laundry by 1:00?, and a little clutter here and there looks homey. I throw all routine out the window and enter into the free-for-all zone, in which I wake up when a kid asks me for breakfast, stay home all day because I never figured out what to do, and decide what’s for dinner at 4:30 (And, oops! No meat thawed!).

Aaaand… then it’s back to scenario A in which I throw everything into order again.

See what I mean? Maddening. This system worked fine when I was single, but not so much with a family. Bryan is All J All The Time, so his preferred statement to me is usually, “I know you’re not very good with routines, but…” At which point I say something like, “F@*# you that I’m not good – look at all my schedules and to-do lists!” (That’s a paraphrase). And my kids never know what to expect so they just ask to watch t.v.

This summer has been interesting because Ruthie has had swimming lessons every morning for six weeks, and we have two more weeks to go. I thought I would hate being forced to leave the house every day, but I’ve actually appreciated the jump start to each day. We hang out at home in the morning and I Get Things Done, then we swim for half an hour, then we go do something fun before lunch and naps. The daily swim lessons have satisfied my need for order and routine, and the blank spots on either side have satisfied my need for flexibility and spontaneity.

Now I’m trying to resist the urge to whip out my notebook of graph paper and declare 10:00 as daily story time and Tuesdays as game night. I don’t think I’m ready for that, and I wouldn’t be successful at it anyway. I’m also trying to resist the urge to dig out a new garden area in my yard, as I still have walls with pink primer in my bedroom that I’m sure Bryan would like me to finally paint over.

Ignite Seattle: Too tired to do it justice

I had a blast last night, but after it ended at 10:30 I sat around waiting for Bryan to break down all his video gear. This took over an hour and was not something I could really help with, so I ended up using his cell phone to send about 800 twitter updates to break the boredom. [Sorry everyone. Truly, I am.] After taking the babysitter home across town, I didn’t get to bed until 1am.

As the evening started with a mixer-type game, I sat next to Bryan and the video equipment like some kind of groupie wall flower. Then one guy came up and asked Bryan about his camera, and they began talking Geek. Then another guy came over and asked me what kind of camera Bryan was using, and I was like, Uh… I don’t know, but they’re talking about it if you want to sit here an jump in. As I got up to let him have my seat, he feigned like it wasn’t necessary for me to give up my seat, then totally just plopped down and turned into the conversation.

Maybe you had to be there, but I thought that sort of ferocious hunger for tech knowledge was kind of funny.

After losing my seat, I found a Stranger and sat in the back row of seats and read, waiting for Something To Happen. Eventually my friend Beth found me, and we were high school excited to see each other: “I WAS GOING TO CALL YOU!” “NO WAY! I WAS GOING TO EMAIL YOU!”

Again, maybe you had to be there.

The presentations were amazing, and I can’t even imagine the pressure of getting out all that information with such precision timing. I will post the videos of my favorite ones once they are uploaded to Blip.tv. There was one about art, and another about buying a new car, and several about building community. More thoughts on my thoughts when I’m not sleep deprived.

Also, Randy Stewart took an amazing picture of me and Bryan, and I can’t figure out how to embed it into my blog, but please click here and go see how happy and content we both look.

Check out that RACK! I mean, SHIRT!

I am an awkward conversationalist in new settings. I like knowing people, but I hate meeting them. What’s to talk about? I usually resort to talking endlessly about myself, which is never fun for anyone… including me.

Check out that RACK! I mean, SHIRT!So at the KOMO blogger meetup I experimented. I wore my Stay At Home Blogger t-shirt in hopes it would help to break the ice and start conversations for me. And did it ever. I met some great new people, sent some business to BabyBrewing.com (the t-shirt maker), and may have even found a new web site to contribute to should I ever find the time to write something a little better than a shitty first draft (I will now sheepishly link to this embarrassingly positive review of The Pile I’m Standing In).

I asked my friend if she thought I should wear the SAHB shirt again to Ignite Seattle tonight. And she was like, Do you really want to risk forever being identified that way? And I was all, Good point.

Gnomedex 2006 shirtAt Bryan’s suggestion, I decided to wear last year’s Gnomedex t-shirt. I didn’t attend, but Bryan did, and noticed that Ponzi kindly had women’s sizes made. I predict this will be a big hit in starting conversations, as this year’s Gnomedex starts tomorrow.

Also, if you look closely you can see a cartoon image of Chris’ face in the design.

And I ask you, what girl wouldn’t want Chris close to her… heart?

New Projects

I’m sitting in the wine bar editing some essays for a new writing gig I can’t talk about yet. It’s exciting, but maddeningly filled with red tape, so I am practicing a significant amount of patience. Humility, patience, and submission are not everybody’s favorite topics to discuss or experience, yet I seem to be living in the midst of all three. I would rather break the rules and defy the Institution.

I’m also blessed and excited to have found a lovely writing partner. We are friends already, but decided to set aside some time regularly to talk specifically about our writing projects and the difficulty of maintaining a writer’s life amidst parenting, marriage, homeschooling, and the like. I have found her to be a great encouragement, and filled with very helpful and specific feedback.

In the past few weeks as I’ve read some amazing essays by amazing writers, I again felt a twinge of jealousy that I’m not that good. I stewed over this for awhile, and then was able to let it go at the realization that I have great potential to be that good given enough time to form a coherent thought.

Much of what I write is good, but it could be great. I often cringe when I hit the Publish button, knowing there is a much better word or phrase in me, if I could just remember where I last left my brain. Blogging has extracted The Draft from me – something I could never wrap my head around. I’ve spent many hours sitting staring at a computer (or typewriter, back in the day), waiting for just the right thing to hit me, that one thing that was worthy of taking up space on the page. I was terrible at writing papers in college, and almost flunked a class because I couldn’t bring myself to put words to paper.

Blogging has given me license to write the shitty first draft, in all its bare imperfection, and I was reminded that this is just the right place for me to be right now with two small children at home. So once again I have folded up my impatience and tucked it back into my pocket.

[I am now forcing myself to hit the Publish button, despite the crazy punctuation and incoherent thoughts: “sitting staring”??? Really, there is a much better way of saying this, I’m sure.]

Dragonfly Green

dragonfly

The other day Ruthie came running into the kitchen from outside, screeching in a frantic but excited voice, “Quick! Quick! You have to come oustide! I have something to show you!”

The kids had found a dead dragonfly on the deck. It was dead and dried up, but completely intact. And it was beautiful.

I don’t know that I’ve ever had the opportunity to look so closely at a dragonfly, as I’m usually squealing like a girl and running away. I always thought they were blue, or black. But this one is a beautiful shade of green – my green, the color of my living room, half my wardrobe, and the future color of the exterior of my house.

And the wings? The wings… they are magnificently detailed and delicate.

This was a happy moment in which I was in awe, my kids were in awe, and the One Who Usually Destroys was gentle and curious. We looked at it from all angles, we set it down to see if it would fly, we ever so softly touched the delicate wings, we startled when the wind nudged it and made it seem alive again.

A little green dragonfly borrowed a few moments of focus and unity for us.

What magical things have you found lately?

KOMO Blogger Meetup



Photo by l0ckergn0me.

I was invited to a blogger meetup last night at KOMO tv that Chris Pirillo helped organize. I was expecting to find the usual crowd of familiar faces that I see at these events, but was pleasantly surprised to meet some new people.

Elisabeth came with me – she is the administrator for Mars Hill’s network of blogs, and she found out just how difficult it is to say Vox Pop Network several times in a row when people can’t hear you (“Did you say, Box Top Network?”). I also met SJ from I, Asshole – who I think I may have met at Blogher 2006. Not sure, but after reading her About page this morning, I feel like I’ve heard her story before.

I also met the woman from Slumberland, the woman from Folly’s House of Mirth, Mike from Mount Rainier Climbing, and Elizabeth from A Wild Ride. When Elizabeth saw my Stay At Home Blogger t-shirt she asked if I had a ‘challenging child,’ and I nearly had beer spewing out my nose. Turns out her website is a resource for parents with challenging children! We exchanged business cards and she gave me some information on contributing stories to her site.

Looks like I’m getting the hang of this networking thing.

Funny story: This guy named Randy Stewart asked me about my Stay At Home Blogger t-shirt because he works from home and thought it would be really funny to have one. I gave him all the info and we started talking about other things, and we were talking for quite awhile. Then Karen Anderson joined our group and the two of them started talking about Ignite Seattle and how great the video presentations were that Bryan Zug did.

And I was like, ‘Uh… he’s my husband.’

And suddenly Randy was freaking out and tells me we actually met before at Northern Voice, and can’t get over the small world. He also took this great picture of my arm.

Even more funny, is when I came home to tell Bryan who I met: I mentioned meeting this energetic guy who used to work at Yahoo and thought my shirt was cool. Before I said his name, Bryan interrupts me and says, ‘You’re talking about Randy Stewart, aren’t you?’

Want to win something? If you click on the group photo above you can see a larger version of it. If you can spot me in the photo, send an email to jen at zugbot dot com describing where I am. I’ll draw randomly and send one person a mix CD from my collection.