The Right Friends are Important

In college I had different types of friends. Throw a bunch of high-school graduates together for four years and you’re going to find all kinds of people. I had friends I ate meals with, friends I exercised with, friends I studied or worked on projects with. Some friends I spent my free time with. There were friends I only saw infrequently, others that were “situational friends” for the duration of a class and then I never saw them again. Some people might be great friends, but would be horrible roommates. Some people were friends of friends.

With all the different kinds of friends out there, what kind of friend do you link up with if you want to do something audacious?

During my Junior year in college my friend Jeremy and I decided we wanted to somehow get from Western New York to Salt Lake City to attend part of the 2002 Winter Olympics. Out of all the people I knew at school, Jeremy was the only person I’d be comfortable attempting something like that with. There were other people at school that were perfectly capable of taking on such an adventure, but I hadn’t built the same level of trust with anyone else.

In my very first college class, Jeremy was a classmate. What started as a shared experience suffering through an 8 am history class neither of us cared about ended up as a mutually beneficial friendship. He taught me to shoot, and I taught him how to rappel. He showed me how to skin a deer, and I showed him how to cross-country ski. His instinct was to push forward or be more aggressive in pretty much whatever task he was involved. In the same situation, my instinct was to hold back and consider the effects of my actions. Our personalities meshed in such a way that regardless of our instincts, he’d give me the push I needed when it was time to get something done, and I’d give him pause during times when restraint was best.

Mom, if you’re reading, skip the next paragraph.

We did (or almost did) all kinds of bonehead stuff in school, but all of it ultimately built the trust we had in each other. One winter night when we were bored, we decided to do something dumb under the guise of “testing winter gear” for our upcoming trip. After dark, I put on some of my warmest headgear and ski goggles, and got in the back of his pickup truck. As he drove down a long, straight stretch of road, I may or may not have stood up in the back of his truck as he substantially exceeded the posted speed limit so I could see how the gear would stand up to the wind. (Don’t try this.) (The gear worked great.)

It’s a dumb story about my youthful indiscretions (one where my instinct of holding back did not win), but it helps show that level of trust. When one of us half-jokingly brought up the idea of traveling across the country to a place neither of us had been so that we could spend a week without heat while attending Olympic events, neither of us laughed. It was one of those occasions where we just kind of sat there silently for a moment and then looked each other in the eye as if to say “I’m up for it.”

You’ve probably had big, bold, brash ideas before. Big ideas are not to be shied away from, but you’ll probably need some help to tackle them. For the ideas that are merely “big,” you probably have a handful of people that you can think of that you’d be willing to partner with in order to try to make them happen. What I want you to focus on is your idea that is so immense, so enormous, so egregiously large or crazy that you can only think of one or two people that you’d be willing to even mention it to. This is the idea that you’re too scared to tell anyone about, and you have to pick and choose who you let in on it. The people with which you’re willing to share your idea are special people. You’ve developed a level of trust with them that even though you might not feel comfortable bringing it up, you’re not afraid that they’re going to make you feel like you’re a fool for having dared to dream so big.

This is a blog about encouraging Christians to live up to their full potential in Christ. For that, I make no apologies. I also recognize, however, that a lot of what I write on this site has parallels with the world of innovation. To both types of readers, I say: Live up to the full potential of your God-given gifts! If there’s an idea that’s been tugging at you and it won’t go away, giving it a try might be your best shot at getting it to leave you alone (unless it involves criminal activity, that is). Maybe Walt Disney can offer some additional inspiration. He once said “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”

Don’t choke those big ideas. Stoke them. Know that if you want to get them off the ground, you’re going to need some help. If you know who it is that you’re going to need to talk to about it, set up an opportunity to bounce it off them. Sometimes there’s only one person that can help you make it happen, and until they’re on board with you, your idea is going nowhere.

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You Have Influence

Think you don’t have the power to influence others? Think again.

I entered the Air Force at a time when the nation was trying to strengthen its military capabilities. At SEREIIC (see the previous post for context) in San Antonio, we stayed in a dorm that had been condemned, and then re-opened because they needed extra space for trainees during the Iraq/Afghanistan military campaigns (at least, that was the rumor). Part of our responsibilities included keeping our barracks in sparkling condition. You can imagine how successful that was.

I don’t remember what we did wrong, but one time we collectively screwed up big time. I mean, our instructors were MAD. These were our SERE instructors, but they didn’t just get mad at the SERE trainees, they were upset at pretty much everyone on the whole floor, including trainees from other career fields. Part of the reason for their wrath was because it was a Saturday morning. Nobody wants to come in to work on a day they would ordinarily have off, especially because someone else screwed up. Everyone had to head outside in their sweats and an instructor told them to “beat your boots” while waiting for the other instructors to finish inspecting every room inside the building. Beating your boots was a type of exercise that burned out your legs. From a standing position, you bend at the knees low enough so you can slap the side of your shoes, and then you stand straight up again. You continue this over and over until told to stop. It gets old fast…

The dorm’s courtyard began filling up with young Airmen dressed in identical “Air Force” sweatpants and sweatshirts. It was noisy chaos as everyone beat their boots at their own pace and cadence. More and more people came out of the building and found a spot to start exercising, until there was almost no room to hold any more. None of us were allowed to talk. By the time everyone was outside, we probably had between 100 and 150 men outside, and all you could hear was the sound of squatting, slapping, and standing up again all at a different pace.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. Our head instructor was pacing back and forth in front of us, chewing us out for whatever our egregious infraction was, but to tell the truth, I don’t even remember what we were in trouble for. The memorable thing was what happened next.

There was a guy right in front of me, Jon, who had someone on either side of him. Without speaking, Jon looked at the guy on his right, and stared him in the eyes. The guy on the right got the message, and slowly they began squatting and standing in rhythm with Jon. Once they were synchronized, Jon turned and looked to the guy on his left and did the same thing, until all three in a row were in synch.

I was right behind them, so I started doing it too. Over time the size of the group beating their boots in unison grew. We squatted and then stood up again hundreds of times that morning, and our quads burned like crazy…but we started to draw strength from our unity and the mood began to change from one of despair to one of hope.

It didn’t take long before everyone in the courtyard moved in unison. The sound of the chaos changed; instead of a constant drizzle of individual slaps, it was a rhythmic thunder of over a hundred pairs of slaps.

Our instructor stopped pacing, and he stopped yelling. He looked around and thought about what he had witnessed take place right in front of him. Those in the SERE occupation are taught to adapt and overcome adversity. They’re taught that if you are a military prisoner of another nation, you draw strength from your fellow prisoners and from whatever other means is necessary. Although he didn’t anticipate providing that type of lesson that day, he couldn’t help but be pleased with what he just saw.

“I like it.”

He mellowed out and quickly wrapped up what he was talking about, cautioning us to straighten up. We were dismissed and allowed to return to our rooms and have the rest of the day off.

Even though it was bad, our situation could have been much worse, and it all started with one guy that influenced others without even saying a word.

Who do you have the power to influence?

How Fast Can That Skateboard Go?

When I was in early elementary school, the only kids in my neighborhood that were anywhere near my age were girls. I got pretty sick of watching them play Barbies. That’s why it was so exciting when a guy named Mario moved into the neighborhood. He was a few grades ahead of me, but he was my first neighborhood buddy that was a guy. It was great to finally do guy stuff…we would go exploring in the woods, play street hockey, build forts, get muddy, you name it.

One day Mario had an idea. He had a skateboard that he decided to modify. You have to understand that today’s skateboards looked nothing like the popular skateboards of back then. Today’s models are lightweight to make it easier to get them off the ground. Back then, the bigger and sturdier, the better. If a mechanic from that era misplaced the creeper that he or she would use for sliding under a vehicle, they could’ve used a skateboard as a substitute without much of a problem.

Mario’s idea was to take this giant skateboard and nail a big piece of plywood on top. After he did, it was big enough for us both to sit on it at the same time and ride down a hill. I’m not sure how we came up with the name, but we called it “The Beta Mobile.” We didn’t really know why, but it sounded cool, so we went with it. To test it out we took it over to the hill in front of the house where I grew up. The modern-day street in front of that house has speed bumps (probably because of the stuff we did on that hill), but back then there weren’t any. The hill had two parts; the first one was long and had a gentler slope, while the second one was shorter, but dropped pretty quickly.

In classic little-boy fashion, we didn’t look for a smaller hill. We just climbed on and didn’t really give much thought to how to slow down if we needed to. I sat in the front, and he sat behind me, bobsled style. We shoved off, and away we went.

We built up speed down the first hill, and we stopped accelerating as the hill flattened out, but then we hit the second hill. We sped up to where it felt like we were going to lift off the ground. To a kid that was accustomed to getting roped into playing house, this was awesome! I was having fun until Mario had another idea. Off to the side there was a house whose owner had paved a little portion of her yard so she could park another vehicle off the street, but in order to keep rainwater from running into her yard, the part that bordered the lawn formed into a big ridge. To Mario, this ridge looked like a nice big jump to try to hit with the Beta Mobile.

“Hit that jump!” He yelled, leaning toward it.

“Noooooo!” I yelled back, leaning the other way.

The way it worked out, I guess I was sitting in the better spot for steering, because we stayed on the road and flew right past the jump. The Beta Mobile slowed down as the road started sloping upward again, and we came to a stop, satisfied that we would be able to do mega-cool things with the Beta Mobile.

As we walked back up to the top of the hill for another run, I forgot about the jump. We decided we’d try to go a little faster this time, but this time we switched places and I was in the back. Again we shoved off and started picking up speed.

We flew down the first hill, and as we started down the second one, I remembered the jump, remembered that we had switched places, and I had a terrible thought. It was too late, though. As we drew near the jump, I leaned away from it about as hard as I could, but it didn’t matter. Mario had the better leverage for steering, and he pointed us toward the jump. We hit it going nearly full speed.

What happened next was something straight out of a Calvin & Hobbes comic. The bodies of two grade-school boys and a gigantic piece of plywood with wheels went tumbling and flipping through the air, crashing onto the lawn. As we lay motionless, moaning on the grass, the front door to the house across the street opened up, and a man in his 80s stepped outside, applauding and shouting “yaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy!”

That was the last time I got on the Beta Mobile with Mario.

As you look around for ways that you can do more with your time and energy to glorify God, you’re going to have the opportunity to partner with fellow believers. For small endeavors it probably won’t be such a big deal, but as you move on to bigger projects, be sure that you’re on the same page with your co-laborers. Talk about your vision for what you’re working on together. You might both have good intent, but if you’re “leaning in different directions,” it’s probably not going to work out the way you’re all envisioning.

Follow God’s prompting, but game it out ahead of time with your partner(s). If you don’t, you might end up in a spectacular wreck, sprawled out in a daze, but your audience might not be so enthusiastic as the one we had that day.