Momentum as a Measurement of Success

It was the summer of 1975.  We moved into the trailer park after my parent's divorce was final.  With a new home, came a new school and new friends.  Big Jim was my toy of choice at that time.  The Whip was my favorite "Guy" as I called him, and he attracted a lot of attention when I paired him with my Big Jim Camper Van out in my front yard.  Soon I had several young boys my age playing with my "Guys", and Eddie was quickly identified as my best buddy. 

We were asleep when it happened.  It sounded like a gunshot or an explosion.  The trailer rocked violently, and soon all of us were awake and trying to figure out what had happened.  My mother and stepfather quickly called the police when they realized that someone had run into our trailer with their car.  The impact caused quite a lot of damage, as well was a natural gas leak which required our immediate evacuation.

Eddie and I became local celebrities that night.  For me it was something I enjoyed. Not so much for Eddie.  His father was uninsured and intoxicated when he hit our home.  The event caused him a great deal of embarrassment, and our friendship was never the same.  I held no anger or resentment towards him or his dad.  My dad was an alcoholic, so I empathized. I understood the shame.  My desire to maintain our friendship could not overcome the momentum of Eddie's disgrace.

For Eddie's Father, momentum did not equal success, mainly due to his trajectory.  If he had made it home that night without colliding into our trailer, perhaps that would have been measured as success.  Instead he spent a night in jail, lost his license, and had to go rehab.  Wait, maybe that was success?


I read this passage today in Luke 8:43-48...

⁴³ And a woman who had a hemorrhage for twelve years, and could not be healed by anyone, ⁴⁴ came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His cloak, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. ⁴⁵ And Jesus said, “Who is the one who touched Me?” And while they were all denying it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing in on You.” ⁴⁶ But Jesus said, “Someone did touch Me, for I was aware that power had gone out of Me.” ⁴⁷ When the woman saw that she had not escaped notice, she came trembling and fell down before Him, and declared in the presence of all the people the reason why she had touched Him, and how she had been immediately healed. ⁴⁸ And He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”

I was reminded of how Jesus' momentum was redirected to the woman in need so the He could affirm the amazing faith that led to her healing, and so that he could give glory to God His Father at the same time.  Jesus knew that Jairus' daughter was at death's door.  He understood the urgency of the moment, and yet He stopped to acknowledge this poor woman's faith.  He did not allow the tyranny of the moment rule Him.  His delay enabled Him to display God's power more directly through the resurrection of a 12 year old girl.  

Both Jairus and the women that touched Jesus' cloak had their faith strengthened that day.  All because Jesus chose to display God's strength in the midst of their weakness.  Momentum played a part because all parties were moving, but momentum was not how success was measured.

Likewise in our lives we need momentum to reach our goals.  Even the disciplines that seem to be inert, require us to move in some way to achieve them.  I experience this often as a Project Manager, because so much of my time is spent in the Planning Phase of a project.  

The Planning Phase seems to be filled with inertia.  It appears that nothing is getting done.  However, without this phase the rest of the project is doomed to failure, primarily due to a lack of trajectory.  

Momentum combined with a solid trajectory or goal will provide you with an outcome that you can thereby measure your success. Momentum in and of itself does not equal success, but it does contribute to it.  The real question is, how do you define success?  

Momentum can lead you to crash into a trailer, or it can redirect you to affirm someone's faith.  How you measure your success depends on the course you have set for yourself.  For Eddie's Dad, the trajectory he was on that night in 1975 required a correction.  The crash may have achieved that, but I am certain he would have preferred the use of a different path to meet that goal.  

This has me thinking about how I am measuring my success.  Is it about my achievements at work?  Am I am living vicariously through my children?  Do I keep a checklist of all things spiritual?  Do I base my success on how much my spouse loves me?  Do I try to see myself through the eyes of my risen Savior, or through the filter of what this world has to offer?

If I am honest, it is most likely a combination of these elements.  I do know that my end goal or trajectory involves hearing these simple words, "Well done good and faithful servant."  May that be the gold standard of my success and yours too!

With this in mind, where are you headed? When you get there, why will you be satisfied?  Tell me your thoughts in the comments section below. 

My Most EmbarASSing Moment

Our Duplex was on the Left

It was the middle of the day and we were home together.  This was back in the late 80's.  We were young, so we got up late.  I headed into the shower at about 2:00 PM.  

We lived in half of a 1,600 sq. foot duplex off of Marcia Street.  Two tiny bedrooms, a tiny living room, an eat-in kitchen, and one bathroom all to ourselves.  It was cozy and just happened to be situated right next to another unit that was very similar.  Our living room windows faced our neighbors' living room windows which made it very easy for us to keep an eye on each other.

I no sooner stepped out of the shower when my wife said, "It's raining and the trash can is blowing away.  Can you go get it?  I don't want to get wet.  You're already wet.  Hurry!  It's blowing away." 

I thought twice about it.  She insisted.  It was raining REALLY hard and the trash can WAS important.  

I put a towel around my naked body and headed outside.  The wind was whipping up, and the rain was torrential.  The trash can was situated just outside my neighbors' window.  They were usually home at this time and I could see them milling about inside their living room.

Moon over Marcia Street

The can blew toward our living room window, due to a large gust of wind.  I bent down to pick it up just as another gust of wind took my towel off of my naked body.  There it was, bottoms up, my butt in all it's glory sticking straight up at my neighbors' living room window.  Moon over Marcia Street!

I panicked.  I mean what would you do?  I reached for the towel and held it in front of me along with the trash can.  Not that I would let go of the trash can.  Would you?  It was the whole reason I went out there.  

I ran for the door and to my surprise not only was it closed, but it was locked.

My wife has an incredible sense of humor.  To this day she makes me laugh like no one else.  On this particular day she took it upon herself to play a little practical joke.  She was not witness to my towel taking flight.  She sat behind the door giggling as I pounded on it.

"Who is it?" She answered in a wee little sing song voice.

"LET ME IN!" I responded.

"One moment, please." As she giggled some more.

At the time, I did not find this situation in the least bit funny.  I was wet, half naked, and embarrassed beyond belief.

She was laughing pretty hard when she finally let me in, but she immediately recognized my lack of amusement as well as my naked butt.  I explained what had happened, and soon we were laughing about the incident together.  She apologized for making things worse and of course, she didn't mean for things to go the way they had.

I look back on that day every time I start to take myself too seriously.  In the end (quite literally), my next door neighbor probably got a good laugh out of it.  I'm sure if they saw what happened, there might be another blog post about it somewhere out there from a different perspective.  

From a relationship perspective, this story makes me greatly appreciate my wife.  She has a knack for this sort of thing.  She understands how to take the tension out of a moment and turn it into something fun and positive.  It's just one of the many reasons I remain head over heels in love with her.

Have you had an embarrassing moment?  What happened to you?  Were you bent over with your bottom sticking out in the wind?  Use the comments section to tell your story!

Seeing my Abs Again... Before I Die

Dan Circa December 1977 (4th Grade)

I have always had a love-hate relationship with exercise.  The hate started early in my elementary school career.  As a slightly pudgy fourth grader at Benjamin Franklin Elementary, I had NO stamina, very little strength, and I was as slow as cold congealed beef drippings that need to be scrapped off the broiler pan before being submerged into a soapy sink.

Ms. Crutchfield was my Physical Education teacher.  She believed in what she did, and she had little respect for the kids that were out of condition.  She expected a certain level of discipline, that was lacking from my life.  The highest honor you could achieve in her class was the President's Physical Fitness Award, which consisted of several "events" that you had to complete with specific goals that needed to be met to attain the award.  

I remember the embarrassment of not being able to do the required number of chin ups, sit ups, or complete the shuttle run quickly enough.  To make things worse, these activities were front loaded at the beginning of the school year, so it set the stage for my further humiliation of being the least sought after team member for the touch football, softball, basketball, and volleyball teams that were formed later in the year.

However, I was an early bloomer, and proud of it.  I may not have been fast or had a flat stomach, but I was the only kid in the fifth grade with hair under his arms, so by the time I entered sixth grade, I was well on my way to realizing the need to get into shape. I wanted girls to be attracted to me, and I did not want to be that kid that was picked last for the rest of my life. 

Getting into Shape

During the summer prior to seventh grade, I moved in with my Mother, my Sister, and soon enough my sister's second husband, Wayne.  It was Wayne that introduced me to weight lifting, and by the end of six weeks of working out with him, I saw noticeable improvement in my over-all health and physique.

When seventh grade started, at Driftwood Middle, I had a new lease on life.  No longer was I the kid that could not compete.  I did not have the baggage of elementary school because I was in a new neighborhood with new friends.  I was in good physical condition, and I started to enjoy the use of my body for something other than sitting in front of the TV.

I stayed in decent shape all through middle and high school.  However, I was never satisfied with how I looked.  It didn't matter how thin I got, or how much muscle mass I gained, not that I was ever huge, but I certainly didn't look bad.  The real issue was my heart.  I had started my fitness quest for all of the wrong reasons.  I was trying to look good for others, I wasn't concerned with health.  I did not have some deep conviction that I was exercising to achieve a better standard of living, unless that standard included having women swoon when I entered a room.

Then my wife came along.  We met at the tender age of 18.  There is a moment in time that I remember to this day, where I knew she was the one.  We spent a few years together before we were married at 21.  

Dan in 1988 under the Tyranny of Vanity

During the years that built up to our union, I was obsessed with my appearance.  Even though I was with the woman of my dreams, I was not satisfied with how I looked. I could never meet my goals of being at the gym as many days of the week or when I was there, for as many hours as I wanted.  I was insecure and vain.  Despite my lack of satisfaction with my appearance, it was during this period that I saw my abs for the first, and most likely the last time. 

Becoming a New Man

To my great joy, my wife endured, but more importantly, Christ intervened.  In August of 1989, we were reading "Satan is Alive and Well on Planet Earth" by Hal Lindsey.  Through the course of our reading we both became aware of our need for a Savior.  As we read Ephesians 2:1-10, we both realized that it was not about how many good things we did, instead it was about the good thing He did for us.  God's holiness demanded that my sinfulness be paid for with blood.  Christ had given His perfect blood for me, and therefore, I was free to live for Him!

I had struggled my entire life to please others, and God was just another figure that I could not please.  My understanding of Him was limited to that paradigm.  I knew I would never be good enough for Him, and yet this passage in the New Testament indicated that was okay.  

For the first time I understood what grace meant - unmerited favor.  I couldn't earn my way to heaven, and the faith that I needed would be a gifted to me!  We gave our lives to Jesus that night, and my life turned upside down.  As a result, my thoughts about working out changed too.  Over time, I stopped going to the gym, and my personal fitness took a backseat to reordering my life in service to the King. 

Developing a Health Lifestyle

Dan in 2003 at approximately 200 lb.'s

Fast forward to 2003, and I was 30 pounds overweight, on a steady diet of Mountain Dew, Pizza, Hot Pockets, and Doritos.  My third child was born that year, and I was facing my own mortality.  "How am I going to keep up with this kid?", was my primary thought.  I had separated my life into buckets, one for my Spiritual Life, one for my Work Life, one for my Social Life, etc.. I wasn't living an integrated lifestyle, and I had thrown the baby out with the bathwater by feeding the Spirit-man, whilst fattening up the physical-man.  I had taken 1 Timothy 4:8 a little bit too far.

That's when I went through my first "Lifestyle Change", which was me trying to say I wasn't going to diet, I was going to change the way I did things.  I started eating right, walking regularly, and losing weight.  I lost 30 pounds.  I gained back my stamina, and I was well on my way to keeping up with my now almost 10 and 8 year old boys. 

In April of this year I joined a gym, and between that and my dedication to T-Tapp, I've seen some good improvements in my physical condition.  Before I plunked down the cash to start at Snap Fitness, I took stock in why I wanted to join.  I knew I did not want to become that person I was at 21 all over again.  I would never again submit to the tyranny of vanity.  At the same time, I had to admit that part of my motivation was to look better. In my heart of hearts I understood there needed to be balance.  

I took James Fell's advice when he said, "You need to accept the fact that you’re probably never going to look like that. Instead, you must determine your own level of “good enough.”"

I talked it over with my wife, and I defined my own understanding of what it meant to me to be in shape.  To me it means, "Being able to keep up with my children, maintain a healthy lifestyle, and have a sense of vitality."  As a side note, I created the mental mantra, "I want to see my abs again before I die," to keep a level of mirror-motivation in tact. ;)

The jury is out on whether or not I will ever see a four, six, or eight pack on my abdomen before I pass into eternity.  The truth is, even if I don't, I will continue to pursue the dream in my effort to maintain a balanced, healthy lifestyle. 


How do you define being physically fit?  What are you doing to get into shape?  Do you love to workout?  If so, share some thoughts below.

Forever Young - The Benefits of a Premature Death

The summer of 1978 was a turbulent time for my family.  I remember a lot of fighting and the fallout that it created, especially between my older brother Mark, who was 16, and my father.  My parents had divorced several years earlier.  The four boys were living with Dad, and my sister was on her own, having been married in December of 1976.  My mother was living alone in a small one bedroom apartment, and she was working as a waitress to support herself.  Dad was a successful mechanic, and he recently sold his service station to return to life as an employee.

Mark Anthony Callari Circa 1978

Mark was in the process of completing his sophomore year,  for the second time.  Let's just say he did not spend a lot of time studying or even attending high school during that time.  He was too caught up in his job at Publix, his motorcycle, and his constant drug use.  All of this culminated in a huge fight that took place sometime in May.  There was a lot of yelling and screaming, lines were drawn in the sand, and decisions were made that had lasting ramifications.  Mark was moving out, or maybe he was being kicked out, I honestly cannot remember.  I do remember saying good-bye to him on the front porch of my Father's house.

 

Our Final Good-bye

There was an awkward silence between us as the light from the street lamp dimly lit Mark's face.  He told me to, "be good," and I asked him to do the same.  We hugged, said, "I love you." to each other, and off he went.  That was the last time I ever saw him.

During the weeks that followed it was decided that I would move in with my sister.  My father's alcoholism combined with his failing marriage was causing concern for my welfare.  I was only 10 at the time, and I was not happy living with him and Peggy, my stepmother.

The Night of the Accident

June 26, 1978, 1:15 AM, the phone rang.  I picked it up, as did my sister, and we both heard my stepmother announce with great agony, "Mark is dead."  He was in a motorcycle accident, died upon impact.  

That night everything changed, forever.  Mark's life was ended prematurely, and in my heart and mind, his age was sealed at 16 going on 17.  Thinking back, I recall all of the discussion around what could have been for him, how much promise he had, how much hope we all had for him, all of which was crushed by single man that failed to yield the right of way to my brother.

At 45, going on 46, I look in the mirror and see a lot less hair on my head, and a lot more on the rest of my body, as well as a figure that has worn with age.  I am father of 4, married for almost 25 years to the same woman, an employee of Teleflex for over 12 years, and a Christ-follower since 1989.  35 years have past since that night in June, and my life went on.  Mark's was cut short.  He has no history beyond June 25, 1978, and I, along with my surviving brothers and sister can only imagine what might have been for him.

The Ripple Effect of Tragedy

The Callari Family Circa 1970

Our family pulled together as a result of our loss.  As surviving children we comforted each other, and we tried to comfort our parents as they dealt with Mark's untimely departure. There were many hours devoted to recounting stories that centered on him.  We rehashed and mourned the decisions that were made that led up to that day in June.  We blamed God, each other, and the man that ran the yellow light.  Ultimately we accepted his death for what it was, a tragedy of youth and the consequences of a fallen world.

In all of our struggles and tension, Mark remained young.  He had moved on, and now it was time for us to do the same.  The memories we have of him were distilled down to the essence of good that remained of his spirit after it departed.  I imagine that this is how he survives in eternity, in a state that is glorified and free from the sin that stained his earthly body.


Our world is decaying, but in death we have life eternal, which I know my beloved brother is experiencing now.  I am truly grateful for the hope that I have in Christ, and I look forward to the joy that I will experience when I am reunited with Mark in the place where the streets have no name.

Have you dealt with the tragedy of a life that was taken prematurely?  How did you and your family respond?  Did something good come of it?  Are you still struggling to accept the end result?  Comment about this article and the questions asked below.

Missional Communities: Finding the Balance Between Being Sent and Equipping the Saints

I have been a Christ follower since 1989.  My walk with Jesus has had its up and downs, but since the day I surrendered my life to Him, my primary focus has been to love Jesus and love others as I love myself. 

 

Becoming Missional

As a member of a Cooper Creek Christian Church, and a disciple of Jesus, I am encouraged to participate in our weekly gathering, become part of a Creek Community, and serve those I am sent to.  With these activities in mind, through the power of the Holy Spirit, and by the grace of God, the mission of The Creek, “To love God and to love others in such a way that the effects are felt within the community” is fulfilled.

Determining who you are sent to, is an important part of becoming a Christian that lives “On Mission.” As a member of the body of Christ, you have been sent to make disciples, teaching them to obey all that Jesus has commanded (Matthew 28:18-20).

If you are anything like me, trying to figure out to whom God has sent you to, is a difficult process.  I have always understood my calling to my family, friends, co-workers, and the surrounding community.  But until I joined The Creek, I was never challenged to broaden my scope of influence to include "the least of these." I have never had a problem serving my family, friends, or co-workers, but when I got involved in the Missional Movement, the words justice and compassion took on new meaning.

Care bags for the Homeless inspired by The Barefoot Church

I am thankful that my Pastor loaned me a copy of "The Barefoot Church" by Brandon Hatmaker.  This book helped to crystalize what a missional incarnational community looks like.  

Disclaimer:  If you have read "The Barefoot Church", then many of these ideas will be familiar to you, since they are based on the Austin New Church Restore Group model.

Missional Community

The Creek Community that I am a part of includes the following elements:

• Family Time – opportunity to eat, fellowship, and enjoy each other’s company.
• Prayer – petitions to God for friends, family, and those you are sent to, and praise for God’s blessings in your life.
• Study – centered on the Word of God, applied to the individual life, integrated into daily activities.
• Internal Service – benevolence, kindness, and assistance to one another when in need.
• External Service – benevolence, kindness, and assistance to the People that the community is sent to.
• Distributed Leadership – several people or families share the responsibilities of facilitating the study, hosting the family time, planning activities, and identifying missional service.

Equipping the Saints, Living in Fellowship, and Serving the Least

The health and growth of our Missional Community is essential so, our group has identified these goals for our participants:

• Equip the saints to reproduce – disciples, making disciples.
• Provide living fellowship that welcomes new members, enables friendships, promotes mentoring, and encourages disciples. 
• Serves those that are in need, both inside of the Creek Community, and within the community at large.
• At the heart of every meeting together, the emphasis is on spiritual growth, expanding the Kingdom of God, and putting Christian faith into action.

Making it Happen

Moving from a purely educational small group model to a missional community creates tension and has led to confusion about what a successful Missional Community looks like.  The following is meant to provide suggestions that will help to clarify steps to success.  

Our Creek Community meets once a week during the school year, and once a month during the summer, but I suggest that you take hold of any additional opportunities for doing life together.  As a group we have started scheduling activities to build community.  The structure of our group has changed over time, but we tend to follow a model similar to what is demonstrated below:

• Family Time (60 minutes) – meal, snacks, or hanging out.
• Prayer Time (30 minutes) – take prayer requests and praise reports, record them in an email that is sent to each member before the prayer.
• Study Time (30 minutes) – use the Up (What is God saying to you?), In (What are you going to do about it?) and Out (Who are you going to tell?) model.  Inductive study with these questions in mind ensures practical application and effective discipleship.
• Wrap up, for those that need to go, and keep the place open for stragglers.

For us the distribution of leadership was accomplished by asking members of the community to step up in specific areas.  We asked for two people for each area to ensure redundancy.  The lineup has flexed throughout the life of the fellowship, and we purposely did not mix a married man with a married woman, a single man with a married woman or vice-versa.

Areas of responsibility for us include:

• Mission - finding opportunities to serve outside of our immediate group.
• Facilitation - willingness to teach, lead, or reel the group back in during prayer and study time.
• Hosting - provides a place to meet, eat, and enjoy our time together.

As a group we recognized that the easiest path to becoming a missional community was to get involved with a group or organization that already exists for the purpose of impacting the community.  We set a realistic goal to serve our Creek Community internally 50% and serve the greater Sarasota Community externally 50% of the time.  We don't always hit this mark, but we keep the goal in mind.

School supplies for the class We adopted

In keeping with this, our group adopted the class of one our members that is a teacher.  Another of our group member's Mother, attends Grace Community Church.  They serve a group of homeless each week, and we have partnered with them in service.  As we start up the new year, we will review our commitments and adjust our focus, but what will remain is a burden to identify who God has sent us to serve. 

 

Be of Good Cheer

Some aspects of a missional community are easier than others.  Each opportunity has to be balanced with existing responsibilities.  Discipleship is messy, and I have been tempted to be discouraged due to perceived failures of  my own, my fellow community members, and/or those that I seek to serve. I try to remember who I am in Christ, and I always look to Him for my sense of worth and gratification!

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. – 1st Corinthians 15:58

Are you living on mission?  Have you figured out who you are sent to?  How does your community live out its faith?  Have you found a tangible way to lead your group to be on mission?  If so, please share it below!

Pushing Through the Puddle - Getting Over the Fears that Hold Us Back

Me and my eldest Daughter Hulking Out

My eldest daughter is brilliant, I mean gifted intellectually in ways I could never imagine.   However, when she was little, she had an irrational fear of riding her bike through puddles.  When confronted with a small stagnate body of water, she would either stop right in front of it or go completely around it.  Going through the water was never an option she would consider.

I encouraged her to go through the puddle.  A little water splashed on her would not hurt and it certainly was not a dangerous activity.  In her mind, there was no reason to even think about going through the puddle, when she could avoid it.  Let's just say that my daughter was risk adverse.

After several attempts at encouraging her to relinquish this fear, being the patient, loving, and kind father that I am, I made an executive decision to push her through.  I remember it vividly, and I am sure she does too.  Her on her bike, complete with training wheels.  The puddle looming ominously directly in her path.  Her brakes failing because I was next to her, pushing her through.  The involuntary scream, loud and shrill.  

She was shaken but she survived.  

My daughter learned a valuable lesson that day, mainly that you can safely ride through a puddle, but more importantly that a fear of the unknown does not have to cripple our progress.  It became a common saying in our home that, "You just need to push through the puddle.", representing the need to conquer irrational fear or anxiety.  

Recently, I was reminded of this, when I decided to pursue my Project Management Professional (PMP) credential.

On the first day of the PMP Boot Camp the instructor asked us to share who we are, what we do, and... when we intend to take the test.  I had not scheduled it, and I was not even sure I wanted to.  Fear was holding me back.  I wanted the PMP designation, and I did not want to be disgraced by failure.  I confessed this to the class, and received a great deal of encouragement to proceed with the application process.

Then I was reminded that sometimes "You just have to push through the puddle."  

God reminds us that this type of fear is unnecessary, and this led me to ask my family and Facebook friends to pray for me as I studied.  During the 4 hour test, I prayed continually.  

While I owe some of my success to PMStudy.com, I also give glory to God, because I know that "Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow." - James 1:17

Remember my friends, perfect love casts out all fear.  Sometimes, you just have to push through the puddle, and when you do, there is a patient, loving, and kind Father that is there to cheer you on!

Have you faced irrational fears?  When was the last time you had to push through the puddle?