Mark Hadfield

family man | follower of Jesus | mountain biker | recovering workaholic | bit of a geek

Where there is life, there is change

I vaguely remember from secondary school biology that all living things change in response to their environment. If the environment changes and the thing doesn’t change with it then the thing isn’t alive.

Whilst pausing and reflecting over the Christmas and New Year break, I felt a nudge to expect lots of change this year and to adapt by becoming more “agile”. One of my short journal entries reads: “Become able to respond quickly to opportunity and need. But also don’t fill the pauses with stuff, recognise them and use them for rest”.

The term “agile” is part of my engineer’s geek vocabulary. Wikipedia defines it as “… iterative and incremental development, where requirements and solutions evolve through collaboration between self-organizing, cross-functional teams … adaptive planning, evolutionary development and delivery, a time-boxed iterative approach … rapid and flexible response to change”.

I lived this stuff when I worked as an engineer. I coached others in it. But how does that apply to me now as I manage projects in the voluntary sector and coordinate teams of volunteers? Unsurprisingly, quite a lot.

We’ve not even reached the end of January and everything is changing rapidly. Opportunities are opening up for the various organisations and projects I’m involved in. New growing pains are emerging. “New” issues are coming to my attention and I’m learning “new” things. Networks are growing and changing. There’s a shifting emphasis from output at the desk to input into groups of people. It’s getting harder to schedule time for desk work, and it’s becoming more likely that desk work will be severely interrupted.

Which is good. I want to invest myself into people, not paper.

But it’s also hard. The part of me that associates peace with being in control and having some predictability is having the odd grumble. The part of me that remembers Chronic Fatigue is a little scared of becoming over-busy. The part of me that likes to please people is not too happy at the thought of a backlog of unfulfilled past good intentions. All of these voices have varying degrees of validity but they all need to find a new way to be heard. They don’t need to be silenced. But they do need to mature with me.

I find vision and courage in the account of Abraham in the Bible. God called Abraham out of a dead-end situation into a growing, life-giving situation. However, that call was not to a revealed final comfortable place, but “to the land that I will show you”. In other words, it was an invitation into a lifetime of discovery and growth, to live in ways that we might describe in the 21st century as “agile”, and a state of existence which any school biology student would instantly recognise as “living”.

Genesis 11:27-12:9

“Mountain climber” (the man, Haran) dead
Journey stalled
Settled in “crossroads” (the place, Haran)
Hopes dashed
“Be fruitful and multiply”, seemingly impossible
Apparently decommissioned
“Crossroads” leads to “dead end”

A new Voice
The Voice removes
The Voice creates
Movement
Out of “dead end"
Out of "crossroads"
Never decommissioned
"Be fruitful and multiply” still

Man’s edification of God
released through God’s affirmation of man

Should we invite Jesus into our lives, or …?

I’ve been absolutely enthralled by two books of the Bible this year: the book of Genesis in the Old Testament, and the book of John’s Gospel in the New Testament. I’ve been noticing things with a clarity that I haven’t seen before.

For example. As I’ve read and re-read John’s Gospel, one of the things I keep asking myself is “why do we present the gospel the way that we do (and hence live the way that we do), it doesn’t seem that way in here?”. Why, for example, were we encouraged, and continue to encourage others, to “invite Jesus into your heart” / “invite Jesus into your life”?

It just doesn’t seem to be in the New Testament. Time and time again in John’s gospel I’m struck by how Jesus says “let go of your life and come into my life instead”, “come into my Kingdom”, “follow me”. I’m convinced that many Christians actually ask Jesus to come into our empire and ask Him to follow us into our lives. It’s no wonder that so many of us struggle and feel strangely unempowered.

Jesus' invitation seems to be simple: give up our own ways that are leading to our own destruction (our cross), and become reborn into His life (our resurrection). Most (all?) of the things that trip me up in my own life today are due to old destructive tendencies that I still haven’t given up, rather than areas where I haven’t invited Jesus “in”. The tribal spiritual leader in the film Avatar says to our hero: “it is hard to fill a cup that is already full”. What if we emptied our “cup” and then threw our “cup” into Jesus' “cup” which is overflowing with his life blood?

I could expand on this some more but Keith Giles has just nailed it in an excellent blog post that prompted me to write. I recommend it wholeheartedly and I’d love to hear any thoughts you may have.

"Taking our cities for God"? or: loving the God who loves the city?

Some recent tweets from Alan Scott hit the proverbial nail on the head:

@Alan_Scott Such a difference between “taking our cities for God” and loving the God who loves the city.

@Alan_Scott Churches don’t “take their city for God”, they lead the city into life through generous hope.

@Alan_Scott Churches don’t “take their city for God”. They learn how to wash the feet of their city.

@Alan_Scott “We have spent so long praying for revival in the church that we have missed what God is up to in the world.”

Thanks Alan.

Feeding around 1000 families in December and January

Friends at Highland Homeless Trust have received a rather unusual and generous gift from a local farm and, with the help of cooks from the Inverness Churches involved in the winter shelter project, will be giving away frozen meals of mince'n'tatties to any one who may be struggling to put meals on the table over the next couple of months.

Priority will be given to “families with children, elderly people and anyone who is living alone and struggling a bit”. Find out more at Highland Homeless Trust’s offices on Church Street, Inverness (at the side of the Co-op). There’s no embarrassing application process. Just turn up from Monday, December 19th.

Help spread the word.

This workaholic

I’ve spent a few weeks gently chewing on the story of Cain and Abel and I’ve been quite amazed by how much of my own workaholic past I see in Cain’s story.

Cain wasn’t just a bit upset when the fruits of his labour didn’t get him what he wanted. He was furious. So furious that he murdered his brother Abel. I recognise that. Although I’ve never murdered anyone bodily, I have, in my past, intimidated, bullied, and crushed the spirit out of people with my words when I wasn’t getting what I considered should be the rewards of my efforts – recognition, respect, promotion etc.

So what lit Cain’s short fuse? Is there a difference between Cain’s efforts, of which God disapproved, and his brother Abel’s, of which God approved? Is God being arbitrary and unfair? There isn’t much in the story. Abel gives God the first of the new born lambs of his flock. Cain gives God some of the first of the new veggies from his garden.

But. Wait a minute.

Flicking back a page or two we read that the boys' father, Adam, had mucked things up to such an extent that all he could expect from the land was “thistles and thorns”. Could it be that Cain is trying to impress God? “Look God, you said just thistles and thorns, but I’ve worked really hard and proved you wrong”? (Abel, on the other hand, might be saying something different, perhaps “thanks God for blessing me with lambs this spring, I’d like you to have one as a token of my gratitude”?)

Maybe. Maybe not. But I recognise this behaviour: “I’ll show ‘em. Even if I have to stay up all night to do it”. My wife, Sue, will tell you that I once famously faxed my employer a solution to an engineering problem, two days into the first foreign holiday we’d ever had together.

So when I say that I’m a recovering workaholic, I really mean it and I don’t use the term “workaholic” frivolously. It took five years of Chronic Fatigue to bring me to my senses, and that was relatively recently. In Cain, I see something of this particular workaholic, consumed by the desire for recognition of his efforts, and with a short fuse to boot.

Whereas in Abel, I see something of who I want to be and who I’m becoming: someone who works diligently, but who trusts God for wisdom and outcome, has nothing to prove and consequently develops healthy boundaries, and who overflows with thankfulness instead of frustration.

There’s some good news for Cain. Even though he paints himself into a truly awful corner and there’s no way he’s getting away with it, he nevertheless comes to his senses, and God says to him in effect “can I write my name on you, I’d still like to be associated with you”. That’s terrific news for any modern day Cain like me.