The cell phone is to the 11 year old now what the learners permit was to the 16 year old then.

Freedom. Liberty. Status. And just plain cool.

15 years ago, I thought that guy Tony in my church who had the small leatherette attache’ case with the shoulder strap and a coiled cord coming out the side attached to a phone handset was the coolest person I knew. When he swiveled that antenna skyward, you knew it was Go Time. And now, well…next time you’re anywhere stop and look around. Count how many people have a teeny-weeny device next to (or in) their ear.

This past holiday season, my daughter (she’ll be 13 in 2 months) told us that she really wanted a cell phone for Christmas. My wife and I have always employed the “give it to ’em straight” parenting method. We don’t sugar-coat anything. We’ve actually had this conversation in our home:

My wife: “There’s no Santa Claus.”
Kids: “Yes there is!”
My wife: “Okay, Daddy and I won’t put out any gifts. Let’s see what Santa brings you.”

See? It’s just that easy to crush a child’s dreams. Practice hard, and you can do it too.

But this whole business of elementary school kids and tweens with phones is pretty crazy. I know there are legitimate reasons for some kids to have their own phone. And far be it from me to launch into a “back in my day” soliloquy. It’s just that kids having phones has opened up just as many (if not more) pitfalls than conveniences.

There’s a kid in our neighborhood that plays in our yard regularly. He’s an awesome kid. He’s polite, kind, thoughtful, and just really cool. He’s the kind of kid you want your kids hanging around. (Does anyone say that about MY kids?) And his house is about 50 yards from ours. And when he needs to ask his mom if he can come in, or stay out, or do whatever, he pulls out the cell phone and calls her. He’s in 4th grade.

Meanwhile, we tell our kids, “If you can’t hear us calling you (as in yelling), you’re too far from the house.” We’re so old-fashioned.

I know of families where each person in the family has a phone, and texting from room to room has taken the place of conventional talking (who’d have thought you’d ever need to use “conventional” and “talking” in the same sentence?).

And once again yesterday, I was reminded of the snares of “sexting”, because the mass media got bored with Haiti for a second and had to fill some airtime. Young people are facing fines and imprisonment for sending sexually charged messages, pictures, and videos to each other through their cell phones and smart phones. By the way, if I rely on a “smart phone” to handle the details of my life, what does that make me?

And perhaps you’ve seen the commercial out of the UK that horrifically and graphically portrays the dangers of texting while driving. Geared at teens, but relatable to all; watch that brief PSA spot and you’ll think twice about punching that keypad next time you’re behind the wheel.

But parents far and wide are plunking down their dollars to give Junior and Juniorette their very own weapon of mass interruption. And I’ve been astounded to hear from parents about their seemingly endless frustrations about their son/daughter texting all hours of/through the night with their friends. You’ve heard of “Shaken Baby Syndrome”? How about some “Shaken Parent Syndrome” for parents who forget that THEY’RE the parents? When I talk with them about the struggles they’re facing since little Johnny got his cell phone, I pretty much ask one simple question, “And who pays that cell phone bill?” Did you know that you can choose NOT to have a texting plan? Did you know that you can choose NOT to have internet access on a phone? And get this–it’s cheaper! Its a mind-blowing revelation to some parents, I know.

But as a youth pastor, I also must hop the fence and speak of the good things about students having phones. And in case I didn’t say it before–I’m the top texter on our church staff. And I’m proud of that. It’d be a crying shame for somebody over in the business office to be out-texting a youth pastor. Yep, I love my BlackBerry.

As a youth pastor, there are a few good things about cell phones:
–I can text most of my students and sometimes even get a response.
–I can use cell phones creatively in our student ministry; polls, contests, and even in worship.
–Kids are generally more accessible when they have their own phone.
Other than those, I’m not sure what the good things are. And as I re-read that short list, I’m not sure any of them are non-debatable or couldn’t be achieved through some other medium.

In our student worship services, we ask students to turn their phones off for the duration of the service, to please refrain from texting, and to pull their earbuds out. You’d be shocked (maybe) if you saw some students use of their devices all through the worship service, if we let them.

And speaking of texting, the world of texting puts students into immediate contact and connection with virtually anyone (including people you don’t know or approve of). Their sense of connectedness to their friends, 9 times out of 10 will diminish (or even destroy) their sense of connectedness to their families. While this is certainly one of the teen’s selling points of a texting plan, it is ultimately detrimental to the young person. Resentment toward parents is a clear symptom of a student who is over-connected to social networks and under-connected to family.

And today, with tweens and teens racking up thousands upon thousands of text messages a month (and their parents usually footing the bill), its no wonder why we have a young generation who ooze entitlement, disrespect, and even (some say) outright laziness. The truth is, we’ve handed the world to them when we’ve handed them their phone; a world they’re anything but ready for.

Throughout all my years in ministry, I have received countless affirmations, compliments, encouragements, and blessings from the mouths of those I have served, loved, and led. To say these words are gratifying would be a huge understatement.

But what astounds me is that even to this day there are four negative statements that have been made to me (about me/my ministry) that not only stung, but stuck. Even today, I roll them over in my mind and for better or worse, I give them more weight than all the accolades and positive statements I have received. And I guess I’ve reached a point where I’m comfortable to not only share them, but how I really feel about them, and have felt about them for years.

Statement #1: “I don’t know how many people you’ve driven from the church today.”

Believe it or not, this statement was made to me within an hour of the close of my very first sermon as a fulltime pastor. It was a phone call at my home which was a driveway’s width away from the church building. One of the men in the church was calling to (in no uncertain terms) share with me his displeasure in the sermon I had just preached. Needless to say, I was dumbfounded, speechless, and had an immediate sense of standing on shaky ground when it comes to other people’s confidence in me as a pastor/minister/leader. And it wouldn’t be the last time, either.

Statement #2: “You’re not a good listener.”

This one killed me. I have always considered myself a VERY good listener. As a listener, I’ve got it all–rock solid eye contact, nods of the head to indicate I’m following you, and even a reassuring “Mmm” to make sure you’re aware that I’m with you in what you’re saying to me. Not only do I produce all the outward indicators that I am listening to the person speaking to me, but I do my best to internalize what I’m hearing, holding it up against my own intellect, emotions, and experiences so that I might (when you’re finished of course) have something meaningful and helpful to say. But only after I repeat to you what I’ve heard you say so that we’re both assured that I’ve understood everything correctly.

So, you can see how a point-blank “You’re not a good listener” would send shockwaves through my sense of certainty that I am indeed a good listener. To make my point: the next time you see me, stop me and talk to me about something–ANYTHING–and see if I don’t deliver the goods when it comes to laser-focused listening. As I’m typing this, there is a plastic life-sized ear that is clipped to the side of a file organizer on my desk. This is my visual daily reminder to be a good listener. When did I purchase a plastic life-sized ear? Moments after someone said to me, “You’re not a good listener.”

Statement #3: “You’re the worst self-promoter I’ve ever met.”

Now, to be fair, this person was not meaning to be malicious or discouraging. I think he was trying to tell me that there was so much good going on in the student ministry I was leading and no one seemed to be aware of all the good things happening. So, while the statement might seemed negative, I choose to believe that it had a good intention buried within it. So, why not write it off as a positive comment? Good question. Here’s why: All throughout my ministry, I have known those who seem to have a knack for making themselves attractive/productive/withit/etc. In short, I lack that ability. I do what I do and if no one sees it….brace yourself…..I really don’t care. But hold on, that’s not entirely true. I could have just deleted that last statement and put something that explains myself better or makes me look better, but therein lies the issue. Honestly: I’m someone who needs encouragement and affirmation. I’m not a high-maintenance diva by any means, but a pat on the back with me will go a really long way. I just need to know that someone–ANYONE notices something–ANYTHING that I’m doing in ministry. I’d like to be that guy who could give a rip what you think, but I’m not. That’s why that statement I heard so many years ago sticks with me still today.

Statement #4: “If I were you, I’d really question my calling to ministry.”

This one takes the cake. Spoken to me by a parent of a couple of the students in the youth group I was leading, it cut my heart like few other statements made to me have. And I’d be being dishonest if I didn’t say that its a statement that I revisit probably far too often. Even now as I’m typing, I can feel my heartbeat quickening as my memory goes back to the phone conversation I had that contained those words. And I suppose I could just blow it off and chalk it up to just some disgruntled parent who didn’t understand ministry, or how things operate in the church realm, or even spiritual things. But years after it was spoken, just as I was getting over it, I received a magazine in the mail and guess who was on the cover? Yep. The very man that uttered those words to me. The only (but true) solace I have is that I have indeed taken his advice (more times that he possibly intended) and have come out the other side with a resolve and certainty in my heart that says, “I have….and thanks.”

I need to apologize to a room full of teens.

I found myself enveloped in a passionate delivery of a powerful truth. It was just this past Sunday morning, and I was standing in front of a large room full of teenagers. I had the undeniable sense that God had put a message on my heart for them, and I was sharing it with them as strongly and clearly as I could. My heart warm with God’s Spirit and aching for them to understand the point I was sharing, I said:
“We treat God badly when we forget how powerful He is.
We repeat the same sin over and over when we forget how powerful He is.
We enter worship half-heartedly when we forget how powerful He is.
We live lives focused on unimportant things when we forget how powerful He is.”
I was wrapped up in a stark reminder of the power of God and how simply keeping the “Almightiness” of God in mind will often preclude us from making decisions that draw us away from God and His will for our lives.

I was explaining the concept of the “ex nihilo” creation of everything we see. “Ex nihilo” is the Latin term for “out of nothing”. God didn’t have a pile of playdoh to start with; no building materials.
He simply spoke and the Milky Way appeared.
He simply spoke and trillions upon trillions of stars hung in their place in the expanse of the universe.
He simply spoke and mountains rose up.
He simply spoke and mountain lions appeared on those mountains.
“Ex nihilo” is, to me, one of the most mind-boggling and yet awe-inspiring concepts about the creation account. But as I was rattling off the list of all that we see, standing in front of these students, I made a mistake. I added “man” or “humans” (don’t recall exactly which word I used) to the list of things created “ex nihilo” or “out of nothing.” It was moments later that I realized my mistake, but moved on into the next part of the message.

You might be thinking “what mistake?” and I guarantee most of the teens I were speaking to have no idea that a mistake was made. But I do. And I take the privilege of speaking God’s Word to His people with the utmost humility, respect, and severity. So, when I say something that is in any way inaccurate, I feel that in my heart–even if no one else does.

I often say to the students that I minister to just before I stand to speak in front of them on a Sunday morning, “I believe with all my heart that God has laid a message on my heart and as your pastor I’m charged to deliver it. If I did not sense God’s leading, I would not be here and I certainly wouldn’t stand and proport to speak for Him.” I’m dead serious about this thing of being a spiritual leader. I shutter to think that there are people entrusted to me by Almighty God, that I should help care for their spiritual well-being. Believe me, no one takes my ministry God has given me more seriously than I do.

And that is why I fully intend to take an opportunity to bring to light my own mistake and correct myself to the teens I serve. I want them to know that I’m listening to what God is saying, paying attention to each word that I am faithful to deliver it with His power and annointing. But the incredible thing is the partnership He allows; the Divine partnered with the human who is submitted to the Divine.

So, come if you like to “The Warehouse” to our “Mixx” student worship service on Sunday January 17, 2010 and sit in as I apologize to the students that I love, serve, and lead.

Like I said, I’ve challenged myself to read through the Bible this year, and I’ve got my handy-dandy BlackBerry to keep me on track, and I just learned that its going to do a better job than I thought at doing just that–keeping me on track.

The Bible I loaded on my BlackBerry has a reading plan that gives me what to read each day. If you follow me on Twitter or if you’re a Facebook friend, you may have seen a post each day recently that says what I’ve read that day. At the end of each reading, there is a button that says “Tweet This Reading”. It’s a way for me to let you know (like you care) what I’ve read that day.

Well, yesterday being Sunday was a full day for me and my family, so I didn’t have time to do my reading. “No biggie.” I thought. “I’ll just read today’s reading tomorrow.” Turns out, BlackBerry is not that compassionate. I learned this morning that yesterday’s reading is gone and can’t be gone back to. So, when I began today’s reading (which by the way is the story of Abraham and Isaac), I did so with a resolve to be very vigilant not to miss a day. And hopefully I won’t. If you’d like to track my progress, just follow me on Twitter or request me as a friend on Facebook.

I’m on Christmas vacation and this past weekend, just before the snowstorm moved in, my wife had the foresight to suggest that I grab a couple movies. So I stopped off at the library and snagged a few, including the movie “Batman Begins”. I’ve always been a Batman fan (though those who know me well will know my alltime favorite super hero). The unique thing about Batman that sets him apart from other super heroes however, is that he’s really just a normal human being with a lot of really amazing accessories: the batmobile, the batcave, the batsuit, the batbelt, the batcycle, and so on. But behind all those gadgets is Bruce Wayne, vulnerable human being. And in this way Batman seems more relatable, or dare I say it–attainable to most guys.

Guys watch Batman movies and in our mind we’re thinking things like, “I could do that if I had all that cool stuff.” and “That could be me.”

Now, I haven’t held a conference to discuss this with other guys or anything, but I’d guess that most male minds work like mine. That on some level, even in a very small, possibly diminishing way, most males see themselves (or want to see themselves) as super heroes. Maybe not the kind with a cape and a sweet ride (though we’re not opposed to that), but someone who has superhuman ability to inspire, save, set right, protect, and provide for those around us. We want to be looked at with admiration by those we care about, and maybe even invoke a sense of wonder that triggers a “How’d he do that?!?” reaction. Not to mention, have you seen the new Batmobile? I mean, c’mon!

Soon after I started the movie I was interrupted by a request from my wife to run upstairs and retrieve something from the girls’ bedroom. As I did, I noticed that I was moving about the house in a very peculiar way; lightning fast speeds and yet full of stealth, moving down the stairs swiftly, yet not making a sound, zipping from one room to another as if diabolical marauders awaited me around every corner. Corny and embarassing, I know. But if this blog is nothing else, its honest. Even after a few minutes into the movie, I felt as though I was enrolled in the Batman Training Academy and my every action would decide my worthiness to remain in training.

Within all of us is a desire to be more than we are. I’d guess that most people have a second version of themselves that they privately envision. A version of me that is better, stronger, bolder, funnier, more generous, more compassionate, kinder, more loving, and much more inspirational than the normal me. And while it sure would be nice to have a cool cape that doubles as a set of wings, I don’t think that the answer lies in what we can put on, but rather what we can put off. As for me, I must put off inhibitions, fears, pride, contentment with who I am now, and satisfaction with the current me while the second version of me stays locked inside my mind, growing bored of waiting.

I may not have a Batmobile sitting in my driveway this Christmas morning, but perhaps I can find the gumption to turn loose the bored super hero that’s waiting inside me.

We’ve all been there. Even guys. C’mon, guys. Admit it. You see something in a store hanging on a hanger and you think, “Ooo. Not bad. I think I’ll try it on.” And then you get into the dressing room, get it on, and well….not so much.

I was enjoying a wonderful day off yesterday and strolling around Short Pump Town Center with my wife. We went into one particular store that I will leave unnamed (J. Crew) and while I was strolling aimlessly among the mannequins, I noticed that they all had something in common. It wasn’t the lack of a face; it was something even more sinister. Every outfit on every mannequin had been pulled tight around the chest and waist and pinned back so that each outfit was form-fitting to each lifeless figure. Rather than just dressing the mannequins and letting the clothes speak for themselves, each mannequin was sporting a row of industrial strength straight pins down their back, bunching up the fabric in the back, but really look good out front.

And as I stood there looking at these mannequins, I was reminded of a spiritual truth.

The allure of a life centered on self is entirely like the way the enemy of our souls dresses things up in order to show us the “flash” while hiding the “trash”. He started in the Garden of Eden and hasn’t stopped since. Working with teens as I do, I could share of countless ones who sadly have succumbed to the temptations of this world, chased after a life that seeks what they can gain, and have consequently ended up a mere shell; not at all living the abundant life God offers and promises to any and all who do things His way; a life that dies to self, and becomes alive to the things, ways, words, and actions of God.

So next time you find yourself among mannequins, and especially if their clothes are pinned back, realize that behind Satan’s “flash” is waiting a huge pile of “trash”.

Just a few minutes ago, someone from the neighborhood (don’t know this person) knocked on my door. I opened it to find an androgynous looking person standing there with their hand holding firmly onto the collar of a large dog. They simply said, “Hi, is this your dog?” Several of the neighborhood kids (including my own) were gathered around because after all, who doesn’t like a strange dog? I responded, “Nope, not mine.” One young girl from our neighborhood was standing next to me on the front porch and asked the stranger holding the dog, “What is it, a boy or a girl?” The stranger said, “I don’t know what it is.” The girl then said, “No, not the dog. I was talking about you.”