Do I want to work with you? It depends.

I’m stuck, and I need someone to work with on something that feels important. Do I want that person to be you? It totally depends.

You’re smart, and you’ve got a really interesting idea. You talk a good game; conviction, clarity, and style abound. Still, it depends.

Mostly, it depends on whether we like each other. It sounds shallow and childish, like the standard children use when deciding who to play with during recess, but it is the measurement I privilege more than most when pursuing collaborators: do I like them? Do they seem to like me? Yeah? Then I’m reasonably certain we can do some things together.

Sometimes we don’t have a choice: we have to get along for the sake of the project regardless of whether or not we like one another. But what if those instances are the exception and the norm is that you get to seek out people you like to work on things that matter.

The leaders of Tapestry work on things like a Tacky Prom for youth because we like each other, and when people like one another there’s joy in shared work, even though there are also responsibilities and disagreements–even outright conflict. The joy we take in one another grounds our work, and we get things done.

So who do you like? You can work with anyone (you’re a grown up, after all). But who do you really want to work with?

This Reply All episode featuring the story of Lindsey Stone blew me away (content warning: there’s some raw language in there). Who knew that the best way to clean up your online reputation is not by deleting negative content but by adding new positive content?

It’s a public world now. Googling your name is basic professional diligence in this world, and not, as recently as five years ago, narcissistic indulgence. So shouldn’t we all be representing ourselves online in ways that accentuate our work and our values? Shouldn’t we all be showcasing ourselves online?

We’re all one foolish photo away from public internet shaming, and the best defense appears to be a good offense. Assure that the world sees the person you want them to see should they come looking.

Then, make sure you’re as good as that person.

Speak your mind or don’t. No, speak your mind. Please.

“I’m just saying” is either a passive aggressive ploy to say something direct without appearing to, or it’s a shirking of our responsibility to speak the truth in love, a timid denial of the permission we have to make a contribution.

“I’m just saying” is saying, only not well and not in a way that makes anyone want to follow you.

Don’t “Just” say. Say.

More people involved is better. More people invested in a project means more ownership players will take over the outcome which means less top-down dictatorial leadership.

Only, when we’re making something new, does it actually work like that?

Joe has an idea for a service project at his church. He wants to support kids at a low-income school in town by providing backpacks filled with school supplies at the start of the school year. He’s talked to the school, and they’re on board.

So, choose your own adventure here. You’re Joe. You want to put a call out in your church for people to work with you on it, so you’re going to make an announcement in worship. Does your announcement say, “If you want to be part of this let me know,” or does it say something more like, “Here’s how to sign up to help” and include a list of specific tasks people can volunteer to complete?

Choice A is a path toward open-ended collaboration with anyone who heard your call and felt compelled to respond. The major decisions about how to accomplish the project are on the table for the whole team. In fact, the nature of the project may even change.

Choice B is a you calling the shots and assigning responsibility for particular pieces.

As church leaders, are we encouraging people with ideas more toward path A or B? And which one are we actually taking with our own ministry ideas?

What do you do? Not for a living, so much. If you’re lucky, your job is a way for you to do what you do, but what do you do that you will always do, regardless of where your paycheck is coming from?

An organizer of a new house church said to me, “I would be doing this even if nobody came.” Somebody in my congregation told me, “Church is how I do what I do.” She connects people. She creates positive experiences for people. She writes.

What do you do, and how do you do it? What communities invite you to do what you do? Support you? Equip you?

As a church leader, I am as interested in what you do and how church can help you do it as I am in the things the church *needs* done.

So what do you do? Do you even know?

Putting an idea on the calendar is one way to commit. “If I calendar it, then I have to do it.” That’s true, although there will always be the equation happening in your head that calculates the cost of failing relative to the cost of flaking out. And, of course, the closer the date gets the higher the cost of failing seems. We can always bail.

That seems like a kind of mental trick, the kind that you read Lifehacker posts about. Maybe tricking ourselves into doing good work is a useful strategy once in a while, but as a long term plan it’s pretty lousy. We need strategies instead for initiating meaningful projects and connecting with partners so that we relish the date we’ve set to publish/launch/perform instead of dreading it.

All this to say, Joke Night is in two days.

Also to say, this week’s podcast features someone who started something by first putting it on the calendar but then did the risky work of inviting people (many of them strangers) to come and try it. Listen to her story below.