Tag: walk
Protected: Discernment Series: The Good Work of Weeds
Going from Noun to Verb (part II)
Yesterday, I talked about the shift that happens when a word–and the thing that word is standing for–sprouts into other parts of speech. “Google” was one example. Love was another.
How this transition happens is based on a few factors, and some of those factors are not within our control.
It seems the abiding reasons (for positive associations) have a lot to do with building trust and a powerful impression. There are triggers that make things start to traverse “across platforms”. For instance, Goolge as a company became a certain type of brand when it offered free web searches very quickly with short load times and no bothersome ads. There were no ads at first and then they incorporated Google Ads to make some money hoping their ads would be subtle and effective…bearable. (no pop up ads, etc).
Moving from brand to a ubiquitous term across parts of speech and culturally (like the word “google” moving from noun to brand name noun to adjective, adverb, and verb) takes something else. Several things.
Widespread and frequent acceptance and usage
Trust and reliability
Close Identity with an action or idea that can be described more accurately than the word it replaces.
Example:
In the case of Google…if you wanted to say, “Hey, search on the internet for that,” it actually became more accurate to say “Google that.”
It was not just a quicker way to say what you wanted to, it was more specific too. The word that replaced “search” carried that idea of getting it right simply, in the middle of all the potential complexity. The meaning was richer and more defined by implication. Using google would get you a specific outcome better or differently than other ways to search. Soon all internet searching fell under this umbrella: Searching well and quickly on the internet was “googling”. Even to the point where you could hear someone say, “Use Bing to google a video about the Panama Canal.” (Bing: Microsoft’s attempt to be Google, but they’re too late for the party. For now, Google has won the day by winning the word and the idea about searching the internet, and they’ve crossed platforms.)
For us, as Communicators, Leaders, or Creators, our message can move from noun to verb. For best results, it takes more than notoriety. Whether we’re talking about invention, art, consumer goods, or just being the go-to person on a topic, the same principles apply.
What about for the walk of faith? Same thing.
We have to be so easily identifiable with a concept and action that the connection happens. Whether that’s love, service, encouragement, worship, or anything else that build the Kingdom of God.
The sticky part comes in doing it in a way that builds our “personal brand” and furthers our own interests, more than the Kingdom. We too often pick ourselves. This upside down Kingdom is laid out in Matthew 5-7 (the Sermon on the Mount).
I think we can spot the difference between our own Kingdom or God’s in the fruit that comes to bear as well as whether we sense the consolation of God or the desolation without God’s (felt) presence. This is the realm of discernment, and will define consolation and desolation that later in the week. Stop back soon!
SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage
Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.
This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.
True Story:
Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.
So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed.
Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, a second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.
As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.
Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.
My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.
That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.
Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)
At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.
Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?
How is this going to end?
I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!
Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.
They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.
I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)
I decide on the element of SURPRISE!
Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”
Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.
(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)
I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:
Operation Boo-hoo.
It’s go time!
I burst into tears.
I cry.
Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.
Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.
Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).
From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)
Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.
He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)
Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.
Or, just something too crazy to understand.
Shock and bawl.
I was going for, “Wha….?”
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.
Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.
If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.
I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.
P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)
In which Sarah Bessey Writes a Letter to Bloggers…
Sarah Bessey writes at Emerging Mummy where she has become an accidental grassroots voice for postmodern and emerging women in the Church on issues from mothering to politics and theology to ecclesiology. Her writing has been well received in many publications including Church Leaders, Relevant Magazine, A Deeper Story, SheLoves Magazine, and Emergent Village. Sarah also works with Mercy Ministries of Canada, a non-profit residential home for women seeking freedom from life-controlling issues. She is a happy-clappy follower of Jesus and social justice wannabe. Sarah lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada with her husband, Brian, and their three tinies: Anne, Joseph and Evelynn
Hey, everyone! Lisa, here.
I’m happy to include a lovely person, champ blogger, and Canadian beauty– the one, the only: Sarah Bessey. I could tell you that I love Sarah and that I love reading her blog, but then you would just think, “Duh? Who doesn’t, Stupid?!”
Yesterday, she had a gracious response to the flap about under-represented female bloggers by posting her own list, which you can check out with her handy dandy button (link):
So, I’ll just use this valuable spot, after the 50 Button and before the letter from Sarah (yes, it’s beachfront property, baby) to encourage you to sign on for RSS or email updates for continued awesomeness. Lots of great writers are my splendid guest contributors ( a.k.a Series #4Bloggers ). My first ebook comes out May 1 “Soul Care for Creators and Communicators”. It’s free (until NOV 2012) if you sign up for it here. (It too is part of the awesomeness. More on that in the coming days and weeks)
And now, enjoy!
FROM SARAH
Dear Blogger:
There are so many ways to be a better blogger, to increase your traffic, to maximize your SEO, to make money.
I practice almost none of them.
After nearly 8 years of writing my life out online, I’ve made almost every mistake one can make. I’ve learned the hard way to write angry, but publish when I’ve calmed down. I’ve received my fair share of angry criticism and lavish praise. I’ve been convinced that I’m God’s gift to the blogosphere and, usually within a few moments, pretty sure that my blog is an abomination upon the earth. And I discovered that what is good for the Google analytics isn’t always good for my soul.
In the midst of the reactionary, often inflammatory, competitive, over-saturated, addictive world of online writing, I repeat to myself, “Remember who you are, Sarah.”
That simple phrase has helped me decide what to write and what to publish, what to leave to other bloggers. It’s helped me focus my content, reconcile my values with my work, make decisions about blog growth tactics, advertising opportunities, networking or relationships. It’s helped me not to crash into despair when someone emails with harsh criticism or fries me up in their own blog post as a “response” served with chips. And it’s also helped me not to get too full of myself when praised, I’m very well aware of who I am and, as every one that knows me in real life can attest, I’m disgustingly normal with flaws and frustrations.
But even beyond the world of blogging, that phrase has helped me make decisions about my priorities and values. It’s helped me to shut the computer down most days, to go outside with my tinies, to make space for spiritual disciplines like silence and secrecy, to make cookies instead of nasty comments. It’s helped me to engage in the hard work of real, skin-on community, to put my physical hands to justice and mercy, to rock my babies to sleep.
“Remember who you are” means remembering that I’m more than a blogger. I’m Brian’s wife. I’m Anne and Joseph and Evelynn’s mummy. I’m my parents’ daughter, my sister’s best friend. I’m Auntie-Mama to my little nieces. I’m someone who would rather eat popcorn for supper.
And beyond all that, it helps me remember: I walk in the ways of Jesus. I am a peace maker. I am committed to speaking Love as my first language. I am an advocate for Mercy. I am a grace-receiver, a forgiver, a woman after God’s own heart.
So my friend, remember who are. In the midst of the blogging, beyond the blogging, and through it all, remember this: you are loved, you are loved, you are loved.
Remember who you are, my friend.
Love, Sarah