On the night of Novemeber 12 I received the following two pictures from my old roommate Tyler.

Apparently someone thought it would be fun to take batting practice using their mailbox. I meant to share these photos right when I got home from Kentucky but it slipped my mind.

When I came home the tenants—Sara, Whitney, and Joy—told me they didn’t really need a replacement, that even though the thing looked terrible it still worked. But last week they asked for a replacement. So that’s how I spent my Saturday morning.

Not too shabby looking in my humble opinion. Thus ends my latest monotonous adventure as a property manager.

You’ve Got Mailbox was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

I went on an eight-day personal retreat in Kentucky earlier this month. Half the fun of the trip was that I was there all by myself, but I’d still like to give you a quick tour of the great cabin I stayed in.

My Kentucky Cabin was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

Oh to have better words, higher thoughts, purer motives, stronger restraint, fiercer courage, enduring peace, tireless hope & requited love.

8/12/11 3:06 pm via Wren for MacReplyRetweetFavorite

@jaledwith

Andrew Ledwith

The future is full of possibilities and opportunities. The question becomes, how will I get where I’d like to go? How do you live a life on purpose? Is that even possible? What will I have to sacrifice? What am I willing to endure?

Who will come with me?

Wanting More was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

But here on my blog I always find a way to turn someone else’s big news into something about me. It’s just the way I roll.

Hear me out; I’m not just being narcissistic. Over the past three and a half years I’ve watched four of my then-roommates — Kyle, JD, Joe and Aaron — get engaged while I lived with them. As you might imagine, this has become a bit of a running joke amongst my friends. New roommates are warned that it’s simply a consequence of living with me, that they don’t stand a chance. I distinctly remember Aaron scoffing at the notion when he moved in. Ha! Pwned. (And he’s not complaining.)

Variations of this joke have turned up in some interesting places.

While these four friends seemingly can attest to my incidental, unintentional powers of projected persuasion, this narrative seems to be changing. As close as I am to Rob and Shaun I never lived with either of them. In fact, I once turned down an opportunity to live with both of them as their third roommate. Clearly they didn’t need my help whatsoever.

Furthermore, the astute observer will notice that my two current roommates — one whom I’ve lived with for 15 months, the other for 1 year — are each still single. Now, one of them is single because he’s terrible (his words… and mine) and the other suffers from multiple personality disorder. Still, despite these obstacles I’ve failed to live up to expectations.

Perhaps my time has come and gone. I’m okay with it.

Your Powers are Weak, Old Man was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

But I’m also someone who craves the genuine approval of others. Disapproval, dismissal, and token praise have been like death to me in the past. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve been difficult to get to know all through my life. I don’t want to let you know the real me because that might mean you’d reject me.

As with most conferences there were evaluation forms to be filled out at the end of our time together. I was sitting at the registration desk waiting for the final session to begin when my eye spotted the two stacks of completed evaluations. I couldn’t help myself. I had to know what people thought of my presentation.

The evaluations were not anonymous. I knew exactly who rated me positively and who gave me average marks. Most of my attendees gave me 3s or 3.5s on a scale from 1 to 5. Three other participants marked me at 4 and 5, but the majority of my listeners thought I was average or just slightly better than that. Two of my coworkers and a man who didn’t even attend gave me 5s. I give my coworkers the benefit of the doubt, that they each gave me a 5 because they genuinely thought I deserved it. But my typical gut reaction to situations like this would be to assume someone I work with would feel obligated to give me a good mark.

But here’s the funny thing. After going through all the evaluations I felt nothing. My real reaction was, “Meh.” I’m telling you, this is the sort of thing that used to drive me right into the ground. Average might be good enough for some, but it’s never been good enough for me. But this time it was different. I just didn’t care. Not in a prideful way, as if I think I’m better than them or something. And not because I care less about the quality of what I produce. I simply found today, quite to my surprise, that my security and identity didn’t depend upon others’ approval of me or my work.

In April when I taught the FSU Navigators about finding an identity in Christ I told them that I still struggled with the concept on a day-to-day basis, in a way in which I could really lay hold of its truth in my heart, and that I probably would face that struggle for the rest of my life. But I think I may have sold God short in those statements. It’s still true to say that I deal with these issues all the time, but it’s also true that the Holy Spirit has been at work in my life, sanctifying me through the Word, prayer, and the input of my spiritual peers, mentors, and disciples. I don’t underscore that enough.

I am not the same man I used to be. A lot of days I forget that. I am glad for days like today when God reminds me of what He’s been doing all along.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. ~ 1 Thessalonians 1:6

When You Realize Things Have Changed was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

I had to make two trips to get everything upstairs. First I brought up the suit I planned to wear to the wedding which I had hanging up in the back seat. Once it was in the room I went back down for my suitcase and messenger bag. As I walked back up I noticed that someone had hung some of their laundry over the outdoor railing. Strange. I proceeded to my room where I crashed to sleep.

The next morning when I went downstairs for breakfast I saw that those clothes were still hung up outside. I began to wonder if their owner had forgotten about them or maybe even purposefully abandoned them for some reason. My mind works like that, inventing narratives for the minutiae I encounter day to day. Upon coming back from breakfast I saw that the clothes in question were now folded awkwardly in a heap next to the door of one of the motel rooms. Had the owner claimed them? Or was housekeeping getting ready to put them in the lost and found? My over-active imagination enjoyed this twist.

After spending the morning and early afternoon at a local coffee shop and pizza place I went back to my room to get changed for the wedding. I have this irrational fear about being late to weddings. I hate the idea of walking in as everyone is expecting the bride to walk in. So I always try to make it to the ceremony at least thirty minutes early. Neurotic, I know.

After I put on my shirt and tie I go to grab my suit pants. Except they’re not there. Um, what? Right about now my above mentioned irrational fear began kicking into overdrive.

No, this isn’t happening. No, I mean it can’t be happening because I double-checked to see that they were on the hanger before I left home. I use these wooden hangers and the pants always seem to slip off, so I knew to check before—

Wait! The clothes on the railing! Could they actually be mine? I stumble around my room looking for the shorts I’d had on. At this point I must have looked ridiculous, what with my white Oxford shirt, yellow tie, and khaki shorts. Like the uniform of a private elementary school student, only worn by a grown man. I dash outside and see that the clothes are still right there down the hall. I run to pick them up and, sure enough, they’re my suit pants.

So that means that in the time it took me to lose my suit pants, walk four doors down to my room, hang my jacket, and leave my room to go back to get my bags someone had picked up my pants and hung them on the railing. Surely I would have seen them and thought more of it had they still been in the walkway, so it must have happened that way. What are the odds?

Considering they’d been on an outdoor motel railing and hallway floor for roughly fifteen hours they actually didn’t look (or smell) bad at all. There was one really bad crease in the left pant leg, but otherwise they seemed okay. My room didn’t have an iron, and I was running short on time anyway. I had some other pants packed in my suitcase for the rest of my trip but I knew they’d be just as wrinkled. So, without shame, I wore my nearly-abandoned suit pants to the wedding. Don’t judge me. If anyone noticed anything odd about them they didn’t say anything. And believe me, neither did I.

Needless to say I’ll be paying a visit to my local dry cleaners upon returning to Tallahassee.

The Tale of the Lonely Laundry was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

This was supposed to be a slow, relaxing week. I was going to recoup from my trip to Austin and get to some writing I’d been excited about for weeks. Instead I’ve had my time and attention focused squarely on my home, which was robbed on Monday while my roommates and I were at work.

Strangely, my laptop was not stolen even though it was sitting in plain sight on my desk. At first I thought the burglar simply hadn’t managed to get to my room before something spooked him, but yesterday I started to notice some items that seem to be missing. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. My roommate Zack had the most taken, including his laptop. Tyler lost a watch and some fancy cufflinks.

It’s an unnerving experience. I’m not even that angry about losing my things (though had my laptop been stolen that wouldn’t be true). I’m more upset about my privacy being invaded and my discretionary time being taken. And while so far I’ve kept my cool I know this is the sort of thing that can bring out the worst in me.

I’ve been reading Isaiah this month. This morning I was in chapter 45. Verse 7 says:

I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the LORD, who does all these things.

You read that right. God creates calamity. He said so Himself. (Now, I’d hardly call this ordeal a calamity, but you get the idea.) It’s comforting to know that even this is under His sovereign control.

You can take a look at a few more photos here.

Robbed was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

Back in March I made the decision to take the first Monday and Tuesday of May off from work so I could attend a Florida Navigators regional staff meeting. They hold a few of them throughout the course of any given year, but I hadn’t been to one since 2008. My original plan was to drive to St. Petersburg after church on Sunday and make it into town in time for dinner with the staff. But I didn’t follow through with that plan, at least not those travel plans.

I could feel myself careening toward a burnout. The six weeks that led up to the staff meeting had been very full, not just with activity, but with emotion. I’m sure you can appreciate my desire not to get into specific details publicly. I’ll have to ask you to take my word for it, but I’ll try to describe how it felt. Imagine being grasped by a dozen hands, each pulling in a different direction. Imagine your responsibilities, disappointments, and weaknesses hounding you day and night like demons. Imagine wanting nothing more than to find a place where no one could find you. That’s roughly what I was feeling.

As I approached this past weekend I had plenty of things I was expected to do. I was expected to attend graduation parties, expected to go out with friends, expected to lead my Sunday school class, expected to be at the beck and call of my tenants, expected to be an engaging host whenever someone showed up at my house unannounced. The thought of having another weekend dictated to me, all while I dealt with my wounded heart, made everything inside me want to revolt. So I did.

I packed for numerous agendas that Friday afternoon after work. I wasn’t sure if I’d be hiking in a state park, lounging by a pool, reading in a coffee shop, or something else. So I packed for it all. I knew I should head south, just because I eventually needed to head south. But even had I known exactly where I was going, I was intent upon not telling anyone where I would be. As irrational as it sounds, I felt like if someone knew where I was, someone could conceivably find me.

I spent two solid days alone, and it was wonderful. I slept well. I ate well. I was inspired by beauty and knowledge. I found a peace and a creativity in the stillness of solitude that I’d lost in the din of my everyday existence. It was a revolt well-spent.

I had a full heart when I arrived at the regional staff meeting. I wanted to be there, wanted to be around these men and women, around my friends. I wanted to meet the staff from the other parts of the Navs in Florida, the non-collegiate staff, and learn from them. I wanted to welcome the new EDGE Corps staff coming to FSU and UF. And I was extremely excited that Tom Yeakley, the man who taught at Ignite 2011, was teaching us about leadership throughout the meeting. His teaching has given me a lot to think about how I lead, develop, and care for the people I influence.

I let my guard down. I seem to always be on high alert back home, but in St. Pete I was relating very openly and freely. And while I’m not sure what the trigger was, though I have my suspicions, at some point on Tuesday afternoon I began to experience the same sense of dread I’d had before I left. It was as if all my demons had finally found me after searching for three and a half days. My heart become heavy and hardened, and I wondered if all the good from the weekend had been undone.

My friend Mark Bogart was at this staff meeting. Mark has had a profound impact on my spiritual journey. He’s the one who taught me how to share the Bridge Illustration, how to study the Bible inductively, and how to memorize Scripture effectively. That was all when I was 19, and he’s kept his eye on me ever since. He could tell something was wrong and asked me about it. After I told him he shared an incredible passage with me. It’s out of 1 Kings 19. The chapter is best known for Elijah’s encounter with God in a still, quiet whisper. But Mark shared the passage that occurs just before that, when Elijah first starts to run for his life.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.

1 Kings 19:4-8

Mark’s point was that the spiritual, physical, and emotional facets of each person are inextricably linked, that there are times when what we really need is to revitalize physically and emotionally before we can do so spiritually. God isn’t only concerned with my spiritual well-being, but with everything about me. Mark said all this without knowing anything about my two-day trip before the staff meeting. What’s funny is I thought I was being inexcusably selfish those two days, when it could be that I acted just as I should have.

As helpful as Mark’s words were, they did little to lift me out of my low state. During my long drive back to Tallahassee — made even longer by playoff hockey traffic — I was “doing business with God” to borrow an expression from Tom Yeakley. It played out like so many of the Psalms, starting off wondering if God even cared at all, moving on to a very real sense that I needed His mercy. I settled on this thought at some point in the evening: God has every right to allow my heart to break, to bring me to the end of myself, and to leave any number of my efforts fruitless. It’s His choice. I spent roughly the last hour of the trip singing along with Sound of Melodies, probably my favorite worship album ever. (Leeland sings I bit on the high side. I didn’t have much voice left on Wednesday morning.)

I’m not all better, but the events of this extended weekend helped me a lot. I’m excited to begin the summer and with it a slower pace. I want to spend less time running from thing to thing and more time learning and reflecting, if only for a season. I hope if you’re in a situation like I’ve been in, if you sense that your demons are closing in, that you’ll take some time to rest physically and emotionally, then spend some time addressing the underlying spiritual realities at work.

Second Star to the Right, and Straight on Till Morning was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

I had my phone off all weekend while I was out of town on a retreat with the FSU Navigators. When I turned my phone back on I found that I had received the above image in a text from my cousin Ryan. Ryan is just a couple months younger than I am. He lives out in California with his wife Julie. He had found an old stack of birthday cards and postcards that he’d never thrown out. He said this one was by far the best find. I’m not sure, but I think I was 5 when I dressed up as Batman for Halloween (I was really into the Adam West version). It’s pretty clear my mom wrote the message body and address, while I penned the greeting and signed my name.

I love stuff like this. It makes me smile to think of how much trouble I probably had forming those fourteen letters and the sense of accomplishment I must have felt when I sent my cousin a letter all by myself, just like a big person.

Have you ever come across something from your childhood out of the clear blue that made you smile?

A Postcard from the Past was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.

Rob likes costume parties. Actually, he likes dressing up no matter the occasion.

A Lover and a Fighter was originally published on Andrew Ledwith's blog.
© 2004-2011 Andrew Ledwith. All rights reserved.