The Power of a Cohort

I've been in vocational, local church ministry for over 15 years (basically since I was 8 years old...wink wink). I have a bachelor's degree from a private, liberal arts university. I've been to more conferences than should be legal. I know a lot of stuff and have read an excessive amount of books. I've listened to a bazillion messages and talks. Hands down, the most formative gatherings or collectives that I've been a part of over the years are cohorts. For about 5 years I participated in a junior high pastor's gathering with a group of national caliber leaders from Youth Specialties. My local church was a part of the inaugural Sticky Faith Cohort through Fuller Youth Institute for a year. And these experiences have been the most important learning venues for my leadership development.

Why?

1. Small > Big. They've been invitation only group where quality has been more important than quantity or size. It's easy to hide in crowds. The big gatherings feed my adrenaline addiction. Getting lost in the sea of people doesn't require any effort. Being silent while an "expert" speaks is simple to do. The small pushes against all those and demands participation, exposure, and connection.
2. Gather, Scatter, Repeat. For the couple cohorts I've been a part of, we've consistently gathered together for a shared experienced, scattered to work out our learning, then repeated that cycle. The "repeat" has been key for true change taking place in my life and context.
3. Longevity of Relationships. Because of the "repeat" factor, some of my closest friends and leadership companions are from these cohorts and are spread out all over the world. The historical nature of our relationship built through a shared experience has allowed me to push through hurdles, grow through challenges, and have consistently spoken truth into my identity and perspective into my circumstances.
4. Like Me but Different. I'm a big believer that dissonance creates a catalyst for growth, yet safety cultivates the ground for its possibility. When others are "like me", it creates safety and opens me up for new ideas and change. Yet it's when others are not like me, when discomfort and pain are visceral, that instigates growth. The cohorts I've been blessed to engage in have been a divine mix of both those factors. Naturally, we lean toward comfort and the path of least resistance , so we have to make intentional choices to create disequilibrium in our souls. Becoming the fullest version of ourselves demands it!

It's for those handful of reasons that I'm launching a "women in youth ministry" cohort in January and another one for "women in leadership" (general) later in 2014. I've always desired for there to be safe yet dangerous places for women to gather to be encouraged, challenged, inspired, and educated toward their best leadership contribution. The women that are coming to the table are bright, passionate, diverse, unique, gifted, and lovely. I know this will be a life-changing experience for them, not primarily because of my contribution to the collective but because the power of a cohort.

Interested? Let's talk.

(Up Until Now) I Hate Running

I hate running. This has been my story. I've made all kinds of erroneous statements of how I've loathed running. I've ridiculously claimed that I'd rather be eaten by a lion than run. I've built all kinds of layers around this story. It's not working for me anymore.

It's all been an excuse, a facade, a cover up.

A few weeks ago I made an emotional commitment to run the LA half marathon with World Vision and our team from Newsong, and alongside my super-athlete husband (who will be running his first FULL marathon!!). The race is on Sunday, March 9th ... in 123 days. I've started training even though official training doesn't begin for a few weeks. And I have to admit, I don't hate running. I kind of like it.

Up until now, I've hated the idea of running and what running represents for me.

A few weeks ago when I had my emotional breakthrough (or breakdown...whatever you want to call it), it revealed a couple dominant excuses and lies I've been living under for years. As I tearfully made my public commitment, I began realizing what running has represented for me.

First, I've hated running because I'm not good at it. It's painful. I look stupid. I'm slow. I'm far from competent, an expert, or pretty when I run. Running reveals my ugly self, a self I don't like to expose or live in. I've hid behind "I hate running" because I don't like to feel much less broadcast my weaknesses. I like to put my best foot forward, and running doesn't let that happen. Running chases down my weaknesses and forces me to confront them.

Second, I have a traumatic experience around running. When I was in elementary school my best friend's mother was brutally attacked while she was running. It seared something deep in my soul. I associated running with trauma. The two were inextricably bound with one another. Since I was a little girl running represented being hurt, lives being destroyed, and years of heartache. It wasn't worth it to me.

But I brought those lies into the light. I've decided they will not have the final word in my life. I will overcome this hurdle.

Brian has been begging me to run with him for a couple years. My health necessitates I take better care of my body. I want my kids to grow up with a fit momma, not an excuse-filled momma. My friends at Newsong have been urging me to join their cause on behalf of our friends in Malawi. For a very long time I've known I need to run this race, but I've made excuses. Natural limitations and these lies have won the race. No more.

I'm running. I'm running for life. I'm running for my health and family. I'm running because the truth has set me free. I'm running because I want to be an obedient woman more than anything else.

Up until now, I hated running. This is my new story.

If you want to partner with me as I run for life and clean water in Malawi, I'd be honored. You can support me HERE.

Orphan Sunday Matters

Today is Orphan Sunday. It may better to me than Christmas and Easter. To me it feels like Christmas and Easter wrapped up into one Sunday - doing what Jesus came to do by loving the motherless and fatherless of our world. Today was epic at our church, Newsong. It was our fourth Sunday as a local church, joining with the global church by linking arms on behalf of the orphans and vulnerable children of our world. Orphan Sunday was started several years ago by a pastor of a church in rural Zambia. He said "enough is enough" with their local orphan crisis and rightfully acknowledged that if the crisis was to change, the church would be the solution. Orphan Sunday is personal to us.

Three years ago today, Brian and I were in Ethiopia meeting Abebayehu and Tarike for the first time. Later that same week, they legally became our children -  Judah Abebayehu and Addise Aster Tarike Diaz.

While we were in Ethiopia, our local church hosted our first Orphan Sunday. Our announcement was shared that day to squeals of praise in our church. See that epic video here...

http://vimeo.com/16811278

Today, I was buckets of tears again. Grateful for this profound privilege we have in parenting Judah and Addise. Grateful they are no longer orphans. Thankful that caring for vulnerable kids locally and globally has become a part of our culture at Newsong. Worshipful that God would allow us as his adopted sons and daughters to join him in the calling to love these children. One of my dear friends, Abe, preached on all these deep, simple theological truths. He also shared this video. Grab a handful of Kleenex. Adoption not only changes a child's life, it transforms an entire family...

http://youtu.be/B0N8P2JMbeo

I hope your church will host an Orphan Sunday next year (the first Sunday of November). It's truly changed our church as we've discovered the heart of God and follow as he leads.