“Let’s discuss the chapter in the your book, Stuff Christians Like, called ‘Not knowing if we’re supposed to pray for friends having plastic surgery.’”
Someone asked me that during a podcast last week and it was a good question. There is indeed a chapter titled that in the book. But when you write stuff like that in your kitchen you never really think someone with a melodic voice is going to ask you questions about it in a very serious manner. (The chapter focuses on calf implants, but you were thinking it was about boobs, weren’t you? You should be ashamed of yourself. I’ll pray for you.)
With the book coming out in about 2 weeks, weird things like that keep happening. And to tell you the truth, I’m getting kind of nervous. I’m starting to get a little worried that no one will buy it. What if it bombs? What if my first book was also my last book and I become like Daniel Powter, the singer of that song “Had a Bad Day?” I’ll probably have to start wearing a lot of knit hats, that guy was always wearing knit hats.
That was on my mind the other day while I was jogging. Specifically, I was thinking about how many copies I would sell. The number. The number. The number. I’m Hurley from the show Lost right now, obsessed with that stupid number on the hatch. But in the midst of thinking about that, I felt like God reminded me of something.
God’s math is different than my math.
In God’s economy, one heart recovered is massive and cause for celebration. One person’s homecoming is a reason to rejoice. Just one.
But we forget that. Maybe it’s the whole “doing things with excellence” movement. We’ve all gotten really caught up in making sure our churches are the best they can possibly be. Maybe it’s the economy, I read somewhere that 50 churches close their doors forever every single week. Maybe it’s just desperation, you can’t measure heart growth, so we get lost in far less significant numbers like attendance and blog traffic. I don’t know what the reason is we’ve so messed up God’s math, but I know I think of my family math differently.
For instance, my wife is going out of town this weekend with her friend Lori. (She’s leaving the kids with me, otherwise, I would be carrying around a mission trip machete and patrolling the house for cat burglars.) I will be in charge of our two daughters, L.E. and McRae. Now imagine if Jenny came back Sunday and I had lost McRae, our 4 year old, over the weekend. And when she said, “You lost McRae?” I answered by saying, “Relax, it’s only one person. That’s not a big deal. She’s just one person.”
That would be a huge deal. I didn’t lose a number on an excel spreadsheet, I lost McRae! Four year old, apply chapstick to her whole face, McRae! That would devastate our family. The number one would take on infinite importance. And I think that might be how God sees one person.
I think that might be how God sees the one person who showed up at your event. I think that might be how God sees the one neighbor you’ve been witnessing to. I think that might be how God sees the one person you think is actually listening during your small group.
I think that might be how God sees you.
You’re not a number or a stat. You’re Susan or Matt or McRae.
Because God’s math is different than ours.
If you’ve got something small that you wish was bigger, it’s OK. If you got one person instead of the 100 you were expecting, it’s OK. There’s nothing wrong with big groups or working as hard as you possibly can to grow something large. I attend and love my church of 25,000 and hope the book sells a bajillionty copies. But just be careful.
Don’t ever confuse the size of your ministry with the importance. God doesn’t.
And don’t ever think your safe return to his arms is any different than how I’d feel if McRae was lost and suddenly found again.
Someone asked me that during a podcast last week and it was a good question. There is indeed a chapter titled that in the book. But when you write stuff like that in your kitchen you never really think someone with a melodic voice is going to ask you questions about it in a very serious manner. (The chapter focuses on calf implants, but you were thinking it was about boobs, weren’t you? You should be ashamed of yourself. I’ll pray for you.)
With the book coming out in about 2 weeks, weird things like that keep happening. And to tell you the truth, I’m getting kind of nervous. I’m starting to get a little worried that no one will buy it. What if it bombs? What if my first book was also my last book and I become like Daniel Powter, the singer of that song “Had a Bad Day?” I’ll probably have to start wearing a lot of knit hats, that guy was always wearing knit hats.
That was on my mind the other day while I was jogging. Specifically, I was thinking about how many copies I would sell. The number. The number. The number. I’m Hurley from the show Lost right now, obsessed with that stupid number on the hatch. But in the midst of thinking about that, I felt like God reminded me of something.
God’s math is different than my math.
In God’s economy, one heart recovered is massive and cause for celebration. One person’s homecoming is a reason to rejoice. Just one.
But we forget that. Maybe it’s the whole “doing things with excellence” movement. We’ve all gotten really caught up in making sure our churches are the best they can possibly be. Maybe it’s the economy, I read somewhere that 50 churches close their doors forever every single week. Maybe it’s just desperation, you can’t measure heart growth, so we get lost in far less significant numbers like attendance and blog traffic. I don’t know what the reason is we’ve so messed up God’s math, but I know I think of my family math differently.
For instance, my wife is going out of town this weekend with her friend Lori. (She’s leaving the kids with me, otherwise, I would be carrying around a mission trip machete and patrolling the house for cat burglars.) I will be in charge of our two daughters, L.E. and McRae. Now imagine if Jenny came back Sunday and I had lost McRae, our 4 year old, over the weekend. And when she said, “You lost McRae?” I answered by saying, “Relax, it’s only one person. That’s not a big deal. She’s just one person.”
That would be a huge deal. I didn’t lose a number on an excel spreadsheet, I lost McRae! Four year old, apply chapstick to her whole face, McRae! That would devastate our family. The number one would take on infinite importance. And I think that might be how God sees one person.
I think that might be how God sees the one person who showed up at your event. I think that might be how God sees the one neighbor you’ve been witnessing to. I think that might be how God sees the one person you think is actually listening during your small group.
I think that might be how God sees you.
You’re not a number or a stat. You’re Susan or Matt or McRae.
Because God’s math is different than ours.
If you’ve got something small that you wish was bigger, it’s OK. If you got one person instead of the 100 you were expecting, it’s OK. There’s nothing wrong with big groups or working as hard as you possibly can to grow something large. I attend and love my church of 25,000 and hope the book sells a bajillionty copies. But just be careful.
Don’t ever confuse the size of your ministry with the importance. God doesn’t.
And don’t ever think your safe return to his arms is any different than how I’d feel if McRae was lost and suddenly found again.