Reroute

Life was up: I was 21 one years old, an airline pilot living in South Florida and headed to Los Angeles, California, to visit my friend, Andrea, and wearing a slick new pilot uniform I might add.

Andrea had studied cosmetology and, upon graduation, uprooted herself from Oklahoma and moved to LA with big dreams and a lot of guts. Wasting no time, she headed to José Eber Salon on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills and asked for a job. Following an audition of the sort, and paying her dues, she became a full-fledged stylist for one of the top salons in the world.

Upon my arrival to the famed LAX, I strutted outside the terminal as a brand new, black convertible BMW pulled over to the curb driven by a beautiful young woman—with obviously nice hair. It was Andrea. She jumped out of the magnificent black beauty, and before I could stop her, Andrea had grabbed my suitcase and was loading it in the trunk. The onlookers that day thought I was surely living the dream.

We cruised around town and did all the touristy things like visiting Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and the Hollywood Walk of Fame; and rode the trolly through the Universal Studios Lot. The tour brought us up a mountain away from the main sound stage buildings and, in a surreal moment, we found ourselves riding down the street where a plane crash had been staged for the upcoming movie, War of the Worlds, starring Tom Cruise. Given the talent of the set designers, a light overcast of clouds, the secluded area, and busted suitcases with clothes sprawled about on the street, it felt real.

Though the trip had already exceeded my expectations, it wouldn’t have been complete without seeing a live filming of Jay Leno, the former host of the Tonight Show, in Burbank. Andrea, signed us up, printed the tickets and drove us to studio, arriving about an hour before taping. As to be expected, the line wrapped around the building; we stood beginning to sweat in our dress clothes, as I had warned Andrea that Jay was known to tease guests who weren’t dressed appropriately.

First to move were the VIPs—but not like real VIPs or they wouldn’t have been standing outside, right? By the time we entered the building the stage-hand was ushering the line toward the nose-bleed area: far away from the stage. But to my surprise, when it was our turn to head up the stairs, the guy stopped us and asked if we’d be willing to sit on the front row! Apparently, the guest band had two of their friends no-show. I didn’t even ask Andrea, I just excitedly accepted. He walked us down the center isle (everyone watching), toward two empty seats and dramatically ripped the “reserved” tape from across what would become our thrones, and with an open hand, palm up, swooped slowly across them as if he were revealing a prize we had just won.

Jay had a signature move: when the show began, he ventured to the front of the stage to meet guests seated near the front—which meant us! And though it happened quickly, I’ll never forget extending my hand to shake his hand, a life-long hero of mine. I turned and headed toward my seat but noticed I was alone. Looking back, Jay had pulled Andrea on stage to tease her about her shiny top that apparently resembled a nightgown.

During the first commercial break, Jay walked over, inches from me, and thanked Andrea for being a good sport on national television. The rest of the show was unreal and a blur, and we soon sat in Andrea’s convertible awaiting the traffic light at the studio exit to change. And then it happened.

An old car pulled alongside us and stopped due to the traffic ahead. Knowing Jay is an aficionado of old cars I gazed to my right hoping to see his trademark jeans and jean shirt combo. Check and check! There he was, in the real world! I’m sure he could feel my stupid grin and looked over. He immediately recognized Andrea and said, “Hey, the no clothes girl,” and smiled. I said something dumb like, “It was my idea to dress up,” which apparently Jay was not convinced, and blew my one shot to say something meaningful, like, “You’re book Leading with My Chin inspired me to read more.”

The light changed and his lane began to move first. But here’s the part I’ll never forget. To set the scene: there were mountains nearby, so was the Hollywood sign, and the sun was setting, literally picturesque. As Jay’s car advanced, he stuck his left arm out of the window and waving his hand and forearm together, left and right, he called out, “Thanks for coming to the show,” the last words fading as he drove away. Living. The. Dream.

What I did not mention earlier was, as we sat in our front row digs for the evening a young woman behind Andrea and me gave us a once over, and with a perplexed face, obviously trying to figure if we were famous or something, finally asked, “Who are you guys?”

Again, I don’t do well in these moments, as I’ve proved above, and immediately replied, “We’re nobody.” Smooth. Of course what I meant was neither Andrea nor I were famous—yet. The only difference between us and the inquiring young woman was the 11 hours extra she waited to sit on the second row. But don’t feel bad for her, for some reason Michael Phelps, the famous olympic swimmer who was a guest on the show, took off his shirt and threw it into the audience and guess who caught it and was no longer mad at us.

And I said “yet” about being famous earlier not because I’m famous, that’s obvious, there is no blue checkmark next to my name on social media. However, Andrea launched from José Eber and now owns and operates a highly publicized and sought after salon of her own in Dubai!

I’m still a nobody, pretending that the oatmeal in an oatmeal cream pie is really the same as eating oatmeal. However, my social ranking is of little concern to God. And if He can use a nobody like me, He can surely use somebody like you!

So that’s why I wrote this book: to demystify the idea of calling and to remind you that it’s not just the rich and famous, or the super spiritual, pseudo-celebrity Christians that garner all of God’s love and giftings. He uses you and me by taking our ordinary and using it for the extraordinary.

In the Gospel of John we learn about a large and hungry crowd that had gathered to hear Jesus teach. Jesus turns to one of his close followers, Phillip, and asks, “Where can we buy bread to feed all these people?”

Phillip replied, “Even if we worked for months, we wouldn’t have enough money to feed them!”

Then Jesus basically said, “Are you ready? Watch this!” and called over a young boy with a meager helping of barley loaves and fish, which would have been considered “ordinary” [1] among the nobodies. Jesus blessed the bread and fish and miraculously did the extraordinary by multiplying 5 loaves of bread and two fish into a meal that fed thousands, and I quote, “they all ate as much as they wanted” (John 6:1-14 NLT).

The boy brought his ordinary, and God did the extraordinary.

It’s been my experience that we’ve really overcomplicated this idea of calling and what it means to be used by God. Or we’ve hesitated to act because we just didn’t feel like we had all that much to offer. But the truth is, and this should be freeing, that our job isn’t to try to do the extraordinary, as if we’re showing off for the Creator of the world for His approval. It’s kind of the other way around, actually—except He doesn’t need our approval. God say’s bring even what little you think you have and be prepared to be amazed. He say’s “Watch this!” and takes your ordinary and does the extraordinary.

So what are the loaves and fish you have in your possession that God’s prompting you to bring to Him and stand back? Whatever they are, you can trust that God is going to do immeasurably more with them than you could ever do on your own. So bring them anyway.

Chapter Questions

Why does God often choose to use the ordinary to do the extraordinary?
What would you define as "ordinary" and “extraordinary”?
When have you seen God use the ordinary to do the extraordinary?

[1] Barley bread was the ordinary food of the poor, since it was cheaper than wheat bread.

Newman, B. M., & Nida, E. A. (1993). A handbook on the Gospel of John (p. 180). New York: United Bible Societies.

3 ways to stop envy from limiting your potential

What is something another leader has that you want? For me, as a leader, it’s easy to find myself wanting that silly little “verified” check next to my name—especially when two guys I mentored have it! Seriously, even though I know God calls me His masterpiece—calls me His—I’m tempted to believe my abilities are only validated through social media verification. It’s a good desire that’s gone rogue and manifested itself as envy, and if we're being honest with each other, I’m not alone.

Why? Because as He Reads Truth writer Nate Shurden points out that our position in life is correlated to our performance. “You won’t get to second grade if you don’t pass first grade. You won’t get a raise at work if you don’t meet quotas.” Or in my case: get a check, get credibility.

However, even without that check would you find my writing more credible if I told you that I was at least a best-selling author. Because I am. Kinda. Years ago I self-published a book and priced it at $7.99. I felt after two years of hard work and multiple edits that was a fair price. Apparently the Internet disagreed. So I lowered the digital price to ninety-nine cents—the lowest Amazon allowed. Nothing. I noticed that every 90 days I could run a 5-day promotion where the digital copy is listed online at no cost. With nothing to lose, I gave it a shot and immediately the downloads commenced. During one of these promotion weeks something happened—I still don’t know what—but thousands of copies were downloaded which launched my book into the Top 100 Free Books of all free books on Amazon. It was exhilarating to watch my book climb the charts on the Bestseller list until I realized I now had definitive data revealing that thousands of people felt my book wasn’t worth a buck. Thanks Internet.

My response: instead of trying to improve my own writing, I became further envious of real bestselling authors—deflated I turned to Netflix.

Then God showed up in ways only He can. I noticed people were underlining the same chunks of the text and even sharing some of the text through their social media. I was forced to remember the old parable of the man and the starfish. The one about the old man walking along the beach tossing starfish back into the ocean that were beached during high tide. A young jogger stops, gazing at the thousands still washed ashore, questions the old man’s ability to make any significant difference. To which the old man leaned down, gently picked up a single starfish, placed it into the water and said, “I made a difference to that one.”

What God reminded me of, as a pastor to students, whether it’s consoling students with ties to the Parkland shooting, a life-threatening illness, loss of friend to suicide, students with suicidal thoughts, or even the students who want you to hop on their shoulders in the pool for a game of chicken, not once in the way I’m called to love—to make a difference—would a check by my name matter. And whatever it is that you think you have to have to make a difference, whatever it is that you’re envious of another leader, God reveals to us we don’t need it to be used by Him. Here are 3 things He’s shown me recently:

I am to identify what I’ve been given

Paul, a man who went from persecuting Christians to becoming a follower of Christ himself, wrote a message to the Corinthians reminding them that God gives each of us “different kind of spiritual gifts,” all from the same God for a specific purpose “so we can help each other” (1 Corinthians 12:4-7). He later compares us to a body saying, “our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where He wants it. How strange a body would be if it had only one part!” (1 Corinthians 12:18-19).

We can limit envy by following Paul’s advice to the Romans in that “If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly” (Romans 12:7-8).

Identify what God has given you and do it gladly without envy.

I am to accept what I’ve been given

For me, envy happens when I compare what I’ve been given to what others have to offer. Without even realizing it, I’m devaluing and being ungrateful for what I’ve been given. In that state of mind, can I really expect God to bless and use me?

Matthew, a close follower of Christ, recorded when Jesus shared a parable about three different individuals who were given varied amounts of money to invest. Their returns weren’t compared against each other. Actually, each was only held accountable to what they have been given.

Accept you’ve been given a different story (no less important or better one) to live and the longer you compare your story to the script of others, you’ll miss your own curtain call.

I am to use all that I’ve been given

Jesus once praised a poor widow at the Temple whom, after giving what was required of her, still gave her remaining two coins as a freewill offering. That’s right, when she could have kept both coins, or given just one, she gave both knowing God would do immeasurably more than she could do on her own.

Use all that you’ve been given, the giftings you identified and accepted, not half—ALL—by trusting God to do His part, laying down the envy that tempts you to try and do the work yourself.

Once we’ve identified what we’ve been given, accepted it as good, and given it completely to God for His purposes, we’ll be able to stop the envy that keeps us from reaching our potential and recognize the joy in the unique way we’ve been called to place star fish back in the ocean. Whether we have a check next to our name or not.