Recently my son and I and another pastor enjoyed the privilege of training over 100 Haitian pastors in Port au Prince. We held the training at our host pastor’s church, a tin-roofed block building that could seat about 125. It had no air conditioning so the temperature inside rose to over 100 degrees. Five roof-mounted fans blew, but only moved the hottest air from the ceiling down to the pastors.

I learned four leadership lessons from these pastors.

1. When you have little, you appreciate things more. Haiti, the poorest country in the western hemisphere, faced a magnitude 7.0 earthquake on Tuesday, January 12, 2010 which left over 300,000 dead, 300,000 injured, and 1,000,000 homeless. Not one of these pastors were untouched by the tragedy in some way. Our host pastor’s daughter was cocooned for three days in the rubble. His church dug her out, with picks and machetes. Added to their misery is a severe lack of training for pastors. Yet, these men and women deeply appreciated the few hours we poured into them. Their appreciation reminded to be more grateful for the abundance I experience in our country.
2. Small things really do matter. At the conclusion of the two-day training, each pastor received a personalized certificate of completion. As we handed their certificates to them, shook their hands, and congratulated them they beamed with joy. Their joy reminded me that as a pastor I must constantly think of small ways that I can encourage others, whether with a gift, a kind word, or a thoughtful email.
3. Patience does not depend upon circumstances. Not only did the temperature in that small church soar above 100 degrees but most of the pastors wore long sleeve shirts and ties. Some even wore a suit. [Their culture expects pastors to dress up.] Yet even as they sat in the sweltering heat, they conveyed utmost respect to each of us, although I did notice a nod or two. Their patience in these unfavorable circumstances convicted me that sometimes I get impatient waiting in life for more than a minute at the grocery store’s “ten items or less” line.
4. We must invest in emerging leaders. I felt privileged that my 28-year-old son, Josh, joined me last year in Mexico when I trained pastors as well as this year in Haiti. He serves as an intern in New Hampshire and is completing his ThM degree at Gordon Conwell Seminary. The pastors loved him. At the end of the training they asked me to come back and stay for 15 days. They asked Josh to come back and stay for a year. Josh’s presence offered them hope that young, godly leaders do exist.

We planned for and delivered quality teaching on leadership to those 100 pastors. I pray that what we shared will help them further the Kingdom in Haiti. 

However, I may have received the greatest blessing through what I learned from 100 pastors in 100 degrees.

If you’ve traveled internationally for ministry, what insights have you learned from your experience?

Related Post: What I learned from Latino Pastors

Gratitude: do leaders need it?

I'm sitting in a Panera restaurant as I write this blog and am stirred by two people I notice. One is an elderly gentleman who sits across from his wife. As he grips his coffee cup, his hands shake as fast as a drummer's hands drum. He has Parkinson's.

Just prior to seeing this man, I noticed a twenty year old flailing his arms up and down as his head rhythmically bobbed from left to right. His mother sat to his left and gingerly wiped the drool from his face. He sat confined to a wheelchair, obviously impaired from birth or by an accident.

As I thought about these two men, I felt convicted for the how I sometimes focus on my minor problems. I'm not confined to a wheelchair. My body still is healthy. I have a full life with few impairments. The past few days have been difficult, and I often held a pity party which distracted my focus from the Lord onto my problems.

Seeing such suffering caused me to think about how important gratitude should play in the life of a leader. Whatever role God has given us, it is a privilege, an honor, and a sacred trust. 

Problems come. Difficulties arise. Challenges persist. Yet, an attitude of gratitude can keep our hearts hot for Him, our focus in the right place, and our leadership most effective.Paul wrote these profound words.

1Th. 5.16  Be joyful always;  17 pray continually;  18 give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 

How important do you believe gratitude should play in a leader's life?

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I visited a physical therapist recently to get some kinks out of my  back. As she torqued my left leg into a pretzel, she told me about a friend who recently got news about a life threatening medical condition. As my therapist shared, she felt unsure about what to say to her friend facing such sadness. Even though I've been in ministry over 30 years, the right thing to say to someone sad still eludes me. What should we say to someone like her friend? Or better yet, what should we not say?

Since our youngest was diagnosed with a brain tumor 25 years ago, what people have said to us has run the gamut from perfect to really bad. Most people really want to encourage us when we hurt, but often they say exactly what you don't need to hear.

Here's a few statements to NEVER say to someone in pain, no matter what kind of pain.

• Every thing will be all right. God's in control. (Yes, God is control, but everything may not turn out right.)

• Just have more faith and you will be fine. (Platitude.)

• God told me that you'd be healed/your problem will go away. (Why did he tell you and not me?)

• Could there possibly be some sin in your life? (Sounds like one of Job's friends.)

• My (aunt, uncle, grandmother, etc.) faced the same thing and they were healed. (I'm not your aunt, uncle, grandmother, etc.)

• Well, I'm facing such and such...and this person prattles on and on about himself or herself, seemingly oblivious to your pain. (You really didn't hear me, did you?)

• Just let us know what we can do. (Usually this means nothing or else they would have gotten specific on the spot.)

Words carry great power. Proverbs tells us they have the power of life or death and that a well-placed word is very valuable.

Prov. 25.11  The right word at the right time is like precious gold set in silver. 

I'd love to hear words that you've heard or said that were like gold in times of pain.

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• How God Can Use Brokenness in a Pastor's Life

• When Ministry Knocks You Down, How to Get Back Up

One of the greatest skills a pastor or leader can develop is to learn to listen well. Woodrow Wilson's words below should cause every leader to evaluate his or her listening skills.

The ear of the leader must ring with the voices of the people.

We pay others a high compliment when we listen.

We affirm other's God-given value when we listen.

We develop our own heart when we listen.

The father of the field of listening, Ralph Nichols, captures the essence of listening in these words.

The most basic of all human needs is the need to be understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.

Through my 15-week coaching I've learned that we listen at several levels. Often we get stuck on the first level, the most elementary one. As you read the four levels below, ask yourself at which level do you usually listen.

1. Level 1-Listening TO...Internal Listening. At this level when we listen to others we mostly listen to our inner dialogue, our thoughts, our feelings, and what we plan to say once the other person has finished speaking. We focus on ourselves, our conclusions, our thoughts about the person/subject of conversation, and what the subject means to me. Unfortunately most listening happens at this level where it's all about me.
2. Level 2-Listening FOR...Focused Listening. At this level we begin to authentically listen as we focus on what the other person is saying. We lock onto their dialogue and suppress our temptation to correct, give our opinion, give advice, or offer another perspective as soon as they finish. We become truly present and give them the gift of being understood.
3. Level 3-Listening WITH... Intuitive Listening. At this level we pay attention to what is not being said through these cues:  inflection, pauses, changes in tone and energy, the eyes, and body language. We listen with our gut and allow intuition to speak to our soul.
4. Level 4-Listening to the Holy Spirit. This is the deepest level where we intersect what the person is saying/not saying with an openness to what the Spirit of God is saying to us. This level requires great discipline and focus, yet provides pastors and ministry leaders a way to become conduits of God's grace to people.

So, at which level do you often listen? What tips have you discovered that help you listen at levels 2-4?

____

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My daughter, one of the most gifted writers I know, served two weeks in Thailand last year with her husband, Charlie. They served those caught in sex trafficking there. She posted something on her Facebook one morning that brought me to tears. As you read it let your heart be touched.

_______

I found him under the wide, leafy arms of the langan tree.

As I strolled along the cobbled pathway to our "jungle bungalow", I spotted something startlingly black against the mocha-colored earth. As I stepped closer and kneeled down to investigate, I found myself peering at a tiny baby bird, covered in silky ebony fuzz. He lay on his side as red ants swarmed over his little body. Thinking he was long dead, I grabbed a nearby banana leaf resting on the ground and touched his lifeless form.

To my disbelief, his gangly legs feebly pedaled the air as his tiny wing shivered.

Immediately, I scooped up the barely-alive little creature into my hands as I brushed the ants off his body. He was no bigger than a small tangerine. He had two long black legs, four spindly toes at the end of each foot, and a tiny beak tipped with yellow. He was listless in my cupped hands as I marched hurriedly back to our kitchen to help him.

I filled a small saucer with water and dipped his beak gently into the cool liquid. Thirstily, he began to drink. After several tiny gulps, he started to regain his strength. His large black eyes blinked open as his tiny head pivoted side to side to observe his surroundings.

After a few people had gathered to take pictures and investigate this little black ball of fuzz, we tried to figure out what he was. After comparing him to the native Thai chickens with smallish black bodies perched on long, sturdy yellow legs, we decided that he was indeed one of them. So naturally, I named my little chicken "Nugget".

Immediately, I knew something was wrong with Nugget. As he regained strength, he did not strut around proudly, chest puffed out, pecking at dirt as you'd expect a chicken to do. Every few minutes, he tensed all of his muscles, closed his eyes, and arched his head back towards my fingers and trembled, his tiny fluffy breast pointed directly at the sky. Nugget's peculiar behavior mimicked a little boy I used to babysit named Jackson -- a little boy with cerebral palsy. All of Jackson's muscles would regularly and involuntarily spasm, and as Jackson tensed and arched his back against his special chair it looked as though this little boy was trying to burst out of this feeble body with its withered hands and useless legs and into another body that could run and jump and play soccer with friends.

This is what Nugget did.

When I placed my baby bird on the ground, his gangly legs did not support him. Instead, he fell on his side and frantically pedaled his legs furiously in the air as he flapped his tiny wings. My little Nugget could not walk.

The realization of Nugget's situation did not come easy to me; actually, it tore my heart out. I am a devout animal lover. Even as a child I brought home a menagerie of stray creatures -- canine, feline, reptilian -- to my patient mother who always managed to find them homes. I want the blind puppy, the three-legged kitten, the abandoned turtle in the road. I am – and always have been -- attracted to unwanted, lost, and broken things.

I realized very quickly that my little chicken Nugget had been abandoned because he is broken. He has broken legs and a broken body, and therefore was not useful, was determined to be "less than". He was left to die because he is not whole.

The second realization was worse than realizing my chicken was broken: I was also powerless to repair him. I could do nothing to fix his broken body, to restore his motor control. But I could love him, care for him, and make him comfortable while he is still here. I would not let Nugget be alone.

I searched for a box and found one – narrow and rectangular with tall sides. I made him a nest of shredded Kleenex, filled a bottle top with water, and added crunched-up corn flakes to his little home. I set him in the shade to be in peace.

I checked on him regularly. He still hung on – not dying -- resting in my hands, blinking his orb-like black eyes. I pet him and held him and watered him and tried to interest him in some granola.

One day during our team devotions, he began to do something that I did not anticipate. He had been quiet all along, very still. But now, he began to cheep. Except rather than a cheep, it was more of a loud, high-pitched bleating -- a distinct, desperate cry for help. As we were singing some hymn, tears began to flow in rivulets down my cheeks. My broken little bird was crying his lungs out -- loudly, desperately cheeping -- and I was the only one that heard him. I was the only one that heard his little cries.

I didn’t search for Nugget – he was lying there, dying, directly in my path as I walked by. I only had to go to him, to reach out, to pick him up, and to take him to safety. We do not have to travel anywhere to find the wounded and broken that line the paths in our own lives – we have only to pick up our heads and look.

I took him and gave him water and some food. We know the truth – we know what it is to have our souls nourished and satisfied with the Bread of Life, to drink from the Living Waters where we will never again be thirsty. Why are we not compelled to share this truth with all those surrounding us whose souls are parched and starving for the Jesus that we know?

Chicken Nugget cried out – pleadingly, desperately, constantly. How often do we walk by the broken and wounded, and caught in the busy noise of our jobs, our lives, our commitments, we do not even hear the desperate pleas of those around us who are so lost, and so in need of the healing love of a Savior?

It seems that in our numbers-conscious, goal-driven, efficiency-based society, we have forgotten the most basic command to us as ambassadors of Christ: to go and love one another as He has loved us.

Chicken Nugget is gone now. A large tawny man next door heard Nugget’s cries and came and scooped up Nugget with his gentle hands, assuring us in broken English that he would now take care of him. Such a relief that we serve a Jesus who is so much the same way.

Working with the broken is messy, uncertain, difficult. We cannot repair a broken heart, a broken past, a broken spirit. We must walk by faith, knowing that the Great Healer with His gentle, pierced hands will scoop them up, repair all their deepest wounds, and welcome them into his courts, making everything new.

I pray that we all will see Nugget in the faces of those in our lives: in the dirty man on the street corner who holds a tattered sign scrawled with “God Bless. Please Help”; in the single mother in the club on North Avenue who sells herself to men nightly to pay her rent; in the faces of our co-workers, our neighbors, our friends. And I pray that we will go to them – that we will take the love and promises of Jesus to the darkest places in the world, which sometimes happen to be right along the cobbled pathways of our lives.

“The heart that

breaks open can

contain the

entire universe.”

-Joanna Macy

-----Heather Anderson, Aug. 6, 2009, 3.03 am, Thai time