If only I could finally, truly, completely learn the difference between control and influence. I know the difference well enough to describe it. But I'm pretty sure I haven't learned the difference.
Both control and influence are about bringing about desired outcomes, but are different paths to get there ... and for different motives. Control grabs the steering wheel, but soon realizes that real control comes only when you also make the pistons to move and the plugs to spark and the shaft to crank and the smoke to exhaust; influence pulls the reins to convince the horse to turn. Control demands; influence gives a convincing argument. Control seeks compliance; influence seeks concordance. Being controlled is enjoyed by the unstable; being influenced is enjoyed by the informed. Control must; influence ought. Control is about the controller; influence is about the influenced.
Think about your greatest frustrations, your greatest fears, and your greatest anxieties. How many of them are fueled by a sense of not being in control? How many of them are you trying to resolve through forms of control? We like control because we think that if we have it, we can virtually guarantee the outcomes we want. We think influence is too soft, too unpredictable, too likely to end in an outcome other than our preference. And yet, we suffer much less anxiety over a lack of influence than over a lack of control.
We define success by the outcomes (with good reason), and so we control. We less frequently define success by whether or not another person is better off because we influenced them. In fact, we sometimes never get to see the outcome of influence, but control gives direct and immediate feedback, so that's what we pick.
We love sports (playing and watching) because when our team wins, we feel more in control. I was emotionally crestfallen when the Royals lost three 1-run games last week at a critical time of the season - the season is spinning out of control! We have the same reaction with games and contests - we don't raise our hands in victory because of influence, but that we have enough control over the game or the whole season. Losing stinks because it is lack of control over one's destiny.
We often try to control things at work because we think that's how to succeed. Few of us see influence as the measure of success at work. And our performance reviews (and raises) are tied more to how well we controlled things over the last year, not influenced them.
It becomes a true sickness when we try to control people rather than influence them. We manipulate, dictate, yell at, and refuse to listen to when we are trying to control another person. But we do it because we so want particular outcomes (often very good ones). Oh, that I would learn to influence well, and then let go. Oh, that I would count that as a successful encounter with another person.
When we try to control God, we are blatant and blind fools. We refuse to cooperate until He does what we want. We try to use the right phrases in order to make Him respond in just the right way. I want a certain outcome, and He's got the power to make it happen, so how can I make Him come through for me? In other words, how can I be in control even of God?
The amazing thing is that God invites us to influence Him. I don't fully understand how a completely sovereign God can be influenced, but His invitations to do so are plentiful, and the respected faithful ones of history sure seemed to think that the invitations are genuine. Not manipulate in a particularly clever way, but influence - have a voice in the matter, be listened to, contribute to the outcome, or even be a reason for God to do something different than He would have otherwise. He allows that. He invites that.
When I learn the difference between these two, I'm sure I'll be a happier, more influential man.
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
The God of the Bad Times
The Royals were on a great winning streak ... 6 in a row, and almost every game for a couple of weeks. Ten games in a row with 10 hits or more. Even with three All Star players injured, they were winning. They had one of the greatest 9th inning comebacks I've ever seen, or likely will ever see again. And then the bottom fell out, losing 5 in a row, with very few hits and a paltry sum of runs. Elation and heartbreak. Everything's going great, and then nothing, and I mean nothing, goes right. There was even a freak throw by an infielder that was supposed to go to first base, but went almost straight down to nail Merrifield on the funny bone. That ball could have gone anywhere, but it just had to hit one of our most productive players on that part of the elbow.
Some feel this way about our nation's history. Things were going along pretty well for a while, with "win" after "win" in almost every arena. And then seemingly in the blink of an eye, the bottom fell out and nothing seems to be going in a good direction. The economy is suffering, good jobs are much harder to find, we have one of the weirdest political seasons in our history, and we're getting into violent disagreements over who gets to use which toidy.
It's easy to feel like God's in control when your home team is "winning," whether that's your favorite sports team, your company, your nation, or even the people of faith. Because of that winning record, so to speak, it sure seems like God is in control.
When when your team can't get a hit, your company is laying off waves of employees, your nation seems to be in ever-worsening disarray, or the people of faith pushed toward the margins, it's easy to feel quite the opposite - that God is somehow not in control. Or perhaps just that He's less in control than He was before. The near-term trend seems even more negative, and so God seems even less in control.
There are plenty of examples in Scripture of God being in total control while His people felt quite the opposite, most notably in the life and death of Jesus. There's also Hebrews 11, which celebrates the actions of faith by those whose lives bore little clue that God was steering the ship. It's helpful to read and reread these accounts. But there's also a sense of "that was them, there, back then." It's a little hard to be completely solaced by the stories of people dead for 2000 years or more.
Perhaps a little logic will help. Think of the times when it really feels like God is in control. Either those times are a complete fraud or they are the very evidence we need. If God is in control in the good times, that means He's sovereign over all things in order to make those times good. Therefore, that means that He's sovereign over bad things as well as good things, whether bad things or good things are currently happening. So, either good times are a fraud, that even then God's not really in control, or the good times are the proof we need to remember that God must be in control of the bad times, too. He's either never sovereign over all things or He's always sovereign over all things. He can't be less in control at any point in time.
An author is control of not only the protagonist characters but also the antagonists. She's in control of both the happy storylines and the sad storylines. The author is no less in control of the difficult parts of the story, and in fact is using both good times and bad times to accomplish the purpose of the narrative.
God's narrative is Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He's the author of that ongoing story. There is no part of the storyline that He's less in control of than others. When we're in the chapters where everything falls apart, the author isn't losing. He's just making the story complete.
Some feel this way about our nation's history. Things were going along pretty well for a while, with "win" after "win" in almost every arena. And then seemingly in the blink of an eye, the bottom fell out and nothing seems to be going in a good direction. The economy is suffering, good jobs are much harder to find, we have one of the weirdest political seasons in our history, and we're getting into violent disagreements over who gets to use which toidy.
It's easy to feel like God's in control when your home team is "winning," whether that's your favorite sports team, your company, your nation, or even the people of faith. Because of that winning record, so to speak, it sure seems like God is in control.
When when your team can't get a hit, your company is laying off waves of employees, your nation seems to be in ever-worsening disarray, or the people of faith pushed toward the margins, it's easy to feel quite the opposite - that God is somehow not in control. Or perhaps just that He's less in control than He was before. The near-term trend seems even more negative, and so God seems even less in control.
There are plenty of examples in Scripture of God being in total control while His people felt quite the opposite, most notably in the life and death of Jesus. There's also Hebrews 11, which celebrates the actions of faith by those whose lives bore little clue that God was steering the ship. It's helpful to read and reread these accounts. But there's also a sense of "that was them, there, back then." It's a little hard to be completely solaced by the stories of people dead for 2000 years or more.
Perhaps a little logic will help. Think of the times when it really feels like God is in control. Either those times are a complete fraud or they are the very evidence we need. If God is in control in the good times, that means He's sovereign over all things in order to make those times good. Therefore, that means that He's sovereign over bad things as well as good things, whether bad things or good things are currently happening. So, either good times are a fraud, that even then God's not really in control, or the good times are the proof we need to remember that God must be in control of the bad times, too. He's either never sovereign over all things or He's always sovereign over all things. He can't be less in control at any point in time.
An author is control of not only the protagonist characters but also the antagonists. She's in control of both the happy storylines and the sad storylines. The author is no less in control of the difficult parts of the story, and in fact is using both good times and bad times to accomplish the purpose of the narrative.
God's narrative is Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He's the author of that ongoing story. There is no part of the storyline that He's less in control of than others. When we're in the chapters where everything falls apart, the author isn't losing. He's just making the story complete.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
I'm not asking you to leave your comfort zone
"Leaving your comfort zone" is a social virtue. Regardless of context (at home, at work, in your community of faith, in a social or hobby club), kudos abound for those who leave their comfort zone. Leaders often ask their groups to step out of their comfort zones in order to try something new and, perhaps, enjoy some kind of new benefit. When we do, then we high five each other and give attaboys. And then we return to our comfort zones.
A "comfort zone" is commonly described as that sphere that surrounds you - within that sphere is comfort, and outside that sphere is some level of discomfort, whether slight or severe or something in between. We, being creatures who gravitate toward comfort, spend a lot of time inside that sphere or "zone," and the common wisdom is that it's a good thing to leave that comfort zone on occasion. And then return.
I have been bugged by the concept of "comfort zone" on the simple basis that comfort should not be our primary ethic. Comfort should not be that controlling value by which most decisions are made. With this mindset, leaving our comfort zone can become something "heroic" in our own eyes because we dared to challenge this primary ethic. I tried sushi - how daring and brave!
So, I began to talk in terms of "expanding your comfort zone" instead of leaving it (and then returning). Wouldn't it be better if we just expanded that sphere so that we were more comfortable with more things (without compromising morals)? Going to a foreign country to help in an orphanage then is not the brave "leaving your comfort zone" but the humble "expanding your comfort zone." Rather than enduring uncomfortable things more often, we are more comfortable with more things. We actually grow - increasing the number of things we're comfortable doing and encountering is a kind of growth.
But that still didn't answer the issue in a satisfactory way for me.
Lately, I've been toying with the idea that it's not really a "comfort zone" at all. It's a "control zone." It's the sphere inside which I feel like I have enough control, and outside which I feel like I don't have enough control. The sense of "comfort," then, is a byproduct of how much control I feel. If this is the right view, then my primary ethic is not my arbitrary level of comfort, but a question of who's in charge.
If God is truly God, He is then truly sovereign, perfectly loving, and completely purposeful. Everything is within His "control zone." And if I am truly His child, then the sphere of my control is entirely subsumed by His. Now, leaving my control zone is to enter His. It is not this brave, temporary venture beyond my level of comfort, but a matter of trust. If I do not trust God to know what He's doing, I will not leave my control zone. If I do trust that His sovereign involvement is actual and not just theoretical, I can leave my control zone and enter into His.
As we talk about living more missional lives, I'm not asking you to leave your comfort zone. I'm asking you to leave your control zone. And to enter His.
A "comfort zone" is commonly described as that sphere that surrounds you - within that sphere is comfort, and outside that sphere is some level of discomfort, whether slight or severe or something in between. We, being creatures who gravitate toward comfort, spend a lot of time inside that sphere or "zone," and the common wisdom is that it's a good thing to leave that comfort zone on occasion. And then return.
I have been bugged by the concept of "comfort zone" on the simple basis that comfort should not be our primary ethic. Comfort should not be that controlling value by which most decisions are made. With this mindset, leaving our comfort zone can become something "heroic" in our own eyes because we dared to challenge this primary ethic. I tried sushi - how daring and brave!
So, I began to talk in terms of "expanding your comfort zone" instead of leaving it (and then returning). Wouldn't it be better if we just expanded that sphere so that we were more comfortable with more things (without compromising morals)? Going to a foreign country to help in an orphanage then is not the brave "leaving your comfort zone" but the humble "expanding your comfort zone." Rather than enduring uncomfortable things more often, we are more comfortable with more things. We actually grow - increasing the number of things we're comfortable doing and encountering is a kind of growth.
But that still didn't answer the issue in a satisfactory way for me.
Lately, I've been toying with the idea that it's not really a "comfort zone" at all. It's a "control zone." It's the sphere inside which I feel like I have enough control, and outside which I feel like I don't have enough control. The sense of "comfort," then, is a byproduct of how much control I feel. If this is the right view, then my primary ethic is not my arbitrary level of comfort, but a question of who's in charge.
If God is truly God, He is then truly sovereign, perfectly loving, and completely purposeful. Everything is within His "control zone." And if I am truly His child, then the sphere of my control is entirely subsumed by His. Now, leaving my control zone is to enter His. It is not this brave, temporary venture beyond my level of comfort, but a matter of trust. If I do not trust God to know what He's doing, I will not leave my control zone. If I do trust that His sovereign involvement is actual and not just theoretical, I can leave my control zone and enter into His.
As we talk about living more missional lives, I'm not asking you to leave your comfort zone. I'm asking you to leave your control zone. And to enter His.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
It'll all be all right
I recently had an opportunity to face the reality that not everything is always going to be OK. We live relatively safe, predictable lives where things just work (most of the time), minor injuries don't become life-threatening emergencies, and our jobs will be there tomorrow (again, most of the time). Many societies today still don't have that kind of confidence. We live in a blessed time in a blessed place - it's relatively infrequent that we must face the reality that things could become very, very not OK. But once in a while, we are forced to - someone passes away, someone is in a horrible accident, someone gets a horrible disease.
For me this time, it was Lynne having surgery. It wasn't even a high-risk surgery or a life-threatening illness. I had very little anxiety leading up to the surgery. But the surgery took quite a bit longer than we were told to expect, which opened the door for me to speculate what bad things might be happening. When I was finally called back to talk with the surgeon, waiting in a small, drab conference room, I realized that it was possible he didn't have all good news. Or, he might have very bad news.
When he showed up, the initial news was all positive. Then he explained some of the complications they encountered in the surgery. Then he told me that there was an unexplained, concerning drop in her blood oxygen level during surgery, which halted the procedure until they could bring it back up. Everything turned out fine, but it forced me out of my overly cavalier attitude to face the reality that it's not always going to be OK. It didn't cause me anxiety, but it did force me to think through some things I've had the luxury of ignoring.
Was my confidence leading up to the surgery based on statistics of medicine or the sovereignty of God? This was a relatively routine, lower-risk surgery. The statistics on there being severe complications is incredibly low. There is every reason to expect the good outcome that we ended up having. But was I enjoying a robust peace because I merely relied on statistical analysis, or because I knew that even if the worst might happen, God's sovereignty still reigns over every situation?
If my confidence is in the track record of doctors, then my confidence is completely circumstantial. It may be well-founded by the data, but sometimes life does the unusual, defying the statistics. And eventually, the statistics run down to the point where they are against you. Clearly, that confidence is faulty.
If my confidence is in the sovereignty of God, then my confidence is not circumstantial. It doesn't matter whether what happens complies to or beats the odds. The odds can deteriorate completely against me, and still I have something to put my confidence in. That confidence doesn't mean that everything will work according to my desires. But it does mean that everything that does happen is within the purposeful, attentive control of the eternal God. Even when things are not OK, they are in fact OK. Perhaps painful, tearful, and confusing, but never without purpose, never out of control, never stronger than the God who will one day make all things new.
Lynne and I have been overwhelmed by your expressions of concern, your offers to help, the food, the notes, the texts, and even the sensitivity to guard our privacy. You bear evidence of the sovereign God's care.
For me this time, it was Lynne having surgery. It wasn't even a high-risk surgery or a life-threatening illness. I had very little anxiety leading up to the surgery. But the surgery took quite a bit longer than we were told to expect, which opened the door for me to speculate what bad things might be happening. When I was finally called back to talk with the surgeon, waiting in a small, drab conference room, I realized that it was possible he didn't have all good news. Or, he might have very bad news.
When he showed up, the initial news was all positive. Then he explained some of the complications they encountered in the surgery. Then he told me that there was an unexplained, concerning drop in her blood oxygen level during surgery, which halted the procedure until they could bring it back up. Everything turned out fine, but it forced me out of my overly cavalier attitude to face the reality that it's not always going to be OK. It didn't cause me anxiety, but it did force me to think through some things I've had the luxury of ignoring.
Was my confidence leading up to the surgery based on statistics of medicine or the sovereignty of God? This was a relatively routine, lower-risk surgery. The statistics on there being severe complications is incredibly low. There is every reason to expect the good outcome that we ended up having. But was I enjoying a robust peace because I merely relied on statistical analysis, or because I knew that even if the worst might happen, God's sovereignty still reigns over every situation?
If my confidence is in the track record of doctors, then my confidence is completely circumstantial. It may be well-founded by the data, but sometimes life does the unusual, defying the statistics. And eventually, the statistics run down to the point where they are against you. Clearly, that confidence is faulty.
If my confidence is in the sovereignty of God, then my confidence is not circumstantial. It doesn't matter whether what happens complies to or beats the odds. The odds can deteriorate completely against me, and still I have something to put my confidence in. That confidence doesn't mean that everything will work according to my desires. But it does mean that everything that does happen is within the purposeful, attentive control of the eternal God. Even when things are not OK, they are in fact OK. Perhaps painful, tearful, and confusing, but never without purpose, never out of control, never stronger than the God who will one day make all things new.
Lynne and I have been overwhelmed by your expressions of concern, your offers to help, the food, the notes, the texts, and even the sensitivity to guard our privacy. You bear evidence of the sovereign God's care.
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