What does it mean to "Thrill" a mockingbird?

In the story of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Atticus Finch tells his children that it is wrong to kill a mockingbird. Miss Maudie goes on to further explain that “Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy . . . but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.” Mockingbirds are innocent birds, so it is an literary analogy for killing an innocent man.

The problem with this analogy is that in real life mocking birds are vicious territorial animals that will attack anyone that gets close to them. It is a great book and a beautifully written story. But the basic analogy from which the title is derived is quite flawed.

I propose then, with our new knowledge on mockingbirds that we take the analogy in another direction. Instead of not just killing mockingbird, we should focus on what it looks like to thrill a mockingbird. Mockingbirds may be people or situations in our life that we find difficult to handle. They may be off-putting, insulting, or rude. But we do have what it takes to overcome and to thrill this mockingbird. We have good news, and an inner light that can captivate and tame the wildest birds (follow the analogy.) I have found that the only way to thrill a mockingbird is with the help of Jesus Christ.

-Chris, To Thrill a Mockingbird

10-Minute parking means 10 minutes. Tops.

I messed up today. I hit a car. With my car.

If you are one of the lucky few,  there was some reason you were awake this morning when it as cold as when Luke had to climb inside of a tauntaun to stay alive (Episode V (Star Wars, people… duh)). My roommate and I were headed towards my car to start uncovering it from the layers of permafrost when we saw a classmate was already halfway done getting his car’s interior to an above-freezing temperature. It was an easy decision to mooch off of his cold hard work, so the only option was to pile inside his Freezer Nissan and head to class. Easy enough. But of course, I had to go screw everything up.

Last night I was in a race back to the dorm with my roommates (they didn’t know it was a race, but it was). There were no normal parking spots open except for the “10-Minute” parking and I knew only that spot would win me the race, and I wasn’t going to lose to someone who wasn’t even trying. Once I had pulled in, I decided to bend the rules a bit and leave my car for more then 10 minutes… Leaving it until my 7:45 class wasn’t a big deal – I mean, 10 hours isn’t that much over 10 minutes, it should be no problem! The RD of our dorm is currently on vacation, so to me, that sounds like the ideal time to leave my car where it shouldn’t be parked. No parents, no rules (I know, I know – I’m 20 years old and should act my age). The same logic works for Resident Directors and their residents. Last time, we had a trampoline party!

This morning, as I was preparing my body for Antarctic weather patterns, I noticed someone had left me a message on my hood. Not a typical handwritten note, or even a typed monologue. Instead, someone left their message loud and clear and more creatively than I anticipated – with a large “10″ in fallen leaves. Yep, I know what that means. After years of trying to pick up on subtle clues and hints from my gracious family, I realized that sometimes, you should listen when someone politely suggests something. Even if it’s spelled in leaves.

In this case, listening meant braving the frostbite conditions of my car and moving it as quickly as possible.  The running dialogue in my head was as follows: “No big deal. Even though it is covered in more ice than a 7-11 drink station, I can do this. I’ll keep my door open and make sure I clear the bike rack before turning the wheel, and here we go!” And we went. As soon as I deemed myself safe from ending the life of a few bikes a few years short, I turned my wheel, only to scrape to a stop. “Oh crap”. Never did it cross my mind that another car was (OF COURSE) parked next to me. The result was approximately 18 inches of baby blue paint strategically located on a red Toyota Camry.

I had never touched another car with my car, except for that time it was really dark and I backed into an RV when I was 16. Or that time I backed into a huge rock. Or into a ditch. Again, all 16. Car-on-car contact was a new one for me, and instantly I felt awful. I threw it into drive, pulled forward, then ever-so-cautiously backed out, and parked picture-perfectly into an open spot. Of course, my friends saw the whole thing. Of course, they were as shocked as I was. And of course, they were not very impressed with my backwards driving skills. My weakness had been exposed!

(A note was left on the hood of the car expressing my shortcomings and regrets along with my phone number and a promise to remedy the issue. At 6:10 PM, the car has moved, the note taken, and no contact has been made. Uh oh. I have no idea who drives that car!)

I can probably tell what you’re thinking. “Oh wow, you scraped a car no worse than you could have done with a garden rake. It wasn’t even two feet long. There was no structural damage. It’s no problem.” It is a problem, though. To me, it’s the principle. I had gotten a little too full of myself in multiple sectors of my life and it climaxed in the mutilation of a sweet red paint job. I had assumed the posture of thinking I could get away with anything – I mean, you know who I am, right? That thought alone is enough to make me sick, and if nothing else, take this from this post – I wish to never think like that again, and to all that I hurt by believing that, I am sorry. My pride has never been more apparent than in this moment.

Leadership positions are readily available. Opportunities open up when all doors had been previously locked shut. No is typically not an answer. This does not and should not make me better or more valuable or more crucial than any other human. As Kid President said on his list of “20 Things We Should Say More Often”, and I paraphrase, “I like you as person who is a human being and will treat you like that because if I didn’t it would make everything bad and that’s what lots of people do and that’s lame,” (number four, check it out for yourself here!). Seriously though. Kid President is the man. His reminder was a precursor to what would happen but its simplicity was so beautiful – treat people like they are people or you’re lame. Word.

I am convicted and convinced that I have continually treated people like they are less important than me. In the midst of status-defining elements: titles, friendships, relationships, jobs, responsibilities, etc., humbleness is a necessary virtue. There is no excuse for those who do not maintain that perspective in leadership – because honestly, if I wasn’t the campus ministries coordinator at NNU, someone else would do the job. I am replaceable and titles are temporal; but people and relationships are a few of the most permanent things we will get to experience. Time and time again I have forgotten the meaning of leadership – to help people do better at being them – and have forgotten how to follow. Following a system, such as rules put in place to keep people from parking in the optimum spot for too long, is intended to build character and help society maintain flow. By blatantly ignoring the rules in place (as slight as it may have been), I turned my back on myself. I will not become a better me by placing myself ahead of people.

All this being said, this generalization is no blanket system. This post was never intended to turn you into an automaton who can follow the letter of the law without fail. Instead, this post was to challenge you to look beyond yourself for a second – and realize that you are not the most important part of life. Although you may think I am this awesome gift to everyone around me, the truth is, it doesn’t matter.  At the root of it all, people don’t watch you or care about you nearly as much as you think they do. It’s when we come to this realization that we can fully give of ourselves and all that we are. We can give ourselves up to a greater cause and higher Power that will never fail us or forsake us. Nestled in the middle of the Beatitudes, Jesus declares that those who are blessed are the meek, not the pompous and self-righteous. Those stuck in the mindset of self-over-others are not the benefactors of the inheritance of the earth; that is left for the humble.

A simple swapping of paint is all it takes to snap someone back to reality. A swapping of stories may be what it takes to reconcile a relationship. A swapping of lives is what it takes to live in community. I hope you find freedom in telling your story and remembering that all people have value while you exchange life as if it’s an renewable commodity. When we live to preserve our life, we lose it the fastest. As much as I would like to believe it, I am no more important than the last person I made eye contact with or awkwardly greeted on the sidewalk as I hurried to my next oh-so-important appointment.

The “10″ left on my car was a blessing in disguise. For me to realize this, I had to mess up. I hit a car. With my car.

-Shaun, The Life Authentic

I Wrote a Thank-You Note

As I reflect on my days in college, I often think about my time in a literature class. It was a class I had to take, and the teacher was one that had a reputation for being harsh, as well as a difficult grader. But you know what? I loved the class! It was my second most favorite class (next to Birds of Prey). The professor really invested in me. She listened to me and made me feel important. She graded my papers harshly, but also gave me a lot of positive and constructive feedback. She listened to me and made me feel important. She was a great teacher. So you know what I did? I wrote that professor a thank-you note... two years later. It felt awesome to encourage her and to thank her. I really felt good about it and I wanted her to know how much she impacted me. Yet the most rewarding part of the situation is knowing that this simple note will bring a smile to her face. It also brought a smile to mine.

So, you wanna make your day better AND someone else's day better?
Send 'em a thank-you note. You'll be glad you did.

-Chris

Audio Reflections

I have been given some opportunities that I would never have imagined to be possible. For example, the title “Road Manager” should never have been associated with the name “Shaun Hall”. In all reality, the title really just meant something a lot more similar to “Roadie” than “Road Manager”, but I’ll take what I can get.

Last weekend I was given a sweet opportunity to manage all things audio for my friends in Woods End (shameless plug – @Woods_End_Min) at a youth conference in Estes Park, Colorado. That’s nuts. Here’s why:

For one, I had never been to Colorado except for a weeklong camp last summer. For two (is that a saying?), I had never even looked at a mixer (sound board… we’ll learn the lingo together, don’t worry) before this semester. For three (again, maybe not a real thing), I was so humbled when I was asked to be a part of the team.

Running sound is 50 percent science and 60 percent art. I realize that is more than the standard 100 percent allocated to all things pertaining to percentages, but for this description I will stretch the rules on math. Life is bigger than math and all the rules that people make up. So there.

Back to sound. Disclaimer: Manipulating a live sound board to hear something palatable is hard. Really hard. This conference was quite the inaugural event for this “Road Manager”. First, the band and I had to set up the entire sound system. Next, I had to do the part I call (and most people call) “trial and error”. That involved turning knobs and pushing flashing lights until a sound pleasing to the ear was emitted from the huge speakers suspended from the vaulted ceiling. Honestly, I know a small fraction about what each knob does when I spin it either direction, but it was enough to get me through. Once my amigos and I got the mix sounding alright without anyone else listening, it was time for the third and most exciting part: Performance.

Let’s recap – I was asked to run sound for a ministry collective (read: worship band) in Colorado even though I had started learning audio-related things only two months prior.

Now that we’re all caught up, let’s get into it.

The band is experienced. At some point, every one of the people on stage had traveled with a summer worship band sponsored by the admissions department of my university. Every one of the people on stage had practiced long hours; long enough to find their current musical limits. Every one of the people on stage has mastered their craft in relation to my greenhorn perspective on all things audio. That being said, it is easy to make people who are good at what they do look good. The performance side of the conference was more about what they could do musically than what I did in the sound booth.

All though it was a total “less of me, more of them” moment, I did not get off scot-free. There were issues I had to overcome. One of them was the “muddiness” of the pianist’s voice. If you heard something that was muddy, you would know exactly what I’m talking about. A muddy sound is a combination of too much body and not enough clarity; a sound that gets lost in the mix. The pianist had a voice that I had no idea how to solve – I couldn’t maintain the integrity of his raw voice and fix the issue.

Finally, I came to a realization: there may not be a solution that I can find. There may not be a way I can fix this issue with my limited knowledge and experience. The “muddiness” of the sound was and is so similar to the current state of my heart. I am incapable EQing (fancy word for turning knobs and pushing flashing lights) my soul to tune out the “muddiness” I so am accustomed to living with. The mix of my life is unmanageable when I am the only one running sound.

Luckily, I believe that there is a Sound Man much more experienced than myself. Yes, this is an awkward metaphor, but humor me for a second: maybe I can manage one conference (“road manager”, remember?), but my life is another story. I am at a place in my life where bad decisions and worse reactions are commonplace, but the “muddiness” of my heart is not my identity. The poor choices I have made do not define me. Instead, I am defined by the One I let manage my life.

This realization came to me only when I desired to be a better sound guy. I only started to move towards this perspective when I acknowledged my own faults and bad habits already forming from behind the mixer. Similarly, the only way growth will happen is if we realize our wrongs and desire something better for our lives.

“Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.”

-Shaun, The Life Authentic