Some Thoughts on Family Machines

A buddy of ours calls it "the machine."

He's talking about his family system, all the structures, relationships and commitments that govern their days. 

And when he and I compare notes about our family machines, more often than not we do so with an air of resignation, as if to say, "what are you going to do? You're either on the machine, or it's running you over." Honestly, most of the time, talk about the machine is followed by a rueful sigh. 

It's true that some family machines are bigger and more complex than others. To be sure, the size and intricacy of a family's machine is proportional to the number of children, socioeconomic status, the parents' situations and a myriad of other factors. No two family's machines are alike.

Around our house, the Dixon machine is quite robust. In our machine we've got cogs that carry labels like school, soccer, volunteering, grad programs, basketball camp, church, jobs, family game night, sabbath, school plays, homework, play dates and 10 other things that I'm too tired to remember.

It's enough to make your head spin. 

Like my buddy says, it can feel like you either get on the machine or get run over. Still, we've learned some surprising things about our family's machine over the years:

1. You get the machine, like it or not. I mean, every family gets a machine. It just comes with the territory of living in American culture. OK, you could live off the grid in the woods I suppose, but even then you'd develop some kind of machine (milk the cows, draw water, check the solar panels, convert vegetable oil into fuel for your car, etc.). So, better to accept the reality, early on, that your family will establish an ever-evolving and highly developed machine. 

2. The machine can be controlled. You may not feel like it very often, but you actually have control over the machine. And you know what your primary mechanism is for this? SAYING NO. Turning down opportunities, saying no to the many possibilities for how your family will spend its time, is the only way to keep the machine manageable. Please understand, saying no is extremely difficult. In fact, it's almost impossible. After all, saying no means fewer opportunities for your children to achieve and excel. Saying no means less time for you as parents (after all, more things for the kids to do equals more me-time!). Saying no means fewer things to boast about in conversations after church, in Christmas cards and on college essays. And yet saying no, being truthful about what you can and can't do, is precisely what's needed if you're interested in sanity and margin. Ultimately, saying no is the only thing that can keep the machine healthy. 

3. It doesn't take much for the machine to malfunction. Most of the time, the machine feels overwhelmingly strong, but the truth is that it's surprisingly fragile. It's easy to topple. All it takes is a poorly planned doctor's appointment. Or someone traveling. Or an unexpected home repair. Or, yes, the simplest common cold can bring the mighty machine to a grinding and frustrating halt. And when the machine breaks down, nobody wins. In fact, when the machine breaks down there are ripple effects around the entire family. The solution? Grace. Grace for yourself. Grace for others. Grace for the machine itself. Sometimes, you just can't do it all, and recognizing your limitations and living within them is the only way to weather the seasons, short or long, when the machine is on the fritz.

4. In the end, you'd rather have a machine than not. Because the machine gives structure to your day. Honestly, the machine is often the only thing that keeps our house from becoming a "Lord of the Flies" kind of situation. On top of that, if you've built it right, and if you maintain it well, the machine can actually GIVE YOU LIFE. After all, for the most part, each cog is fundamentally good. Each gear represents an opportunity. Each lever is a chance for someone to experience something extraordinary. 

So, in the end, maybe it's not so binary. What I mean is that perhaps there's a third option beyond getting on the machine or getting out its way. 

Maybe it's about creating a machine with the tools of truth and grace.

It Takes a Village...to Get Your Master's!

To borrow from an old African proverb, and with a nod to Hillary Clinton, it takes a village...to get your Master's degree.

And so as I look down at the shiny, new diploma case (actual document still to come!) in my hands, I want to thank the village that God gathered around me during my years in the program. And, to be clear, that's 2.5 years recently, but 13+ years overall. I took my first course in the summer of 2000.

Here's my list, in no particular order:

Thanks to Rob Knight, my supervisor way back when I started, who encouraged me to take classes in the first place, and who actually got me seminary credit for doing ministry as a part of a practicum. Two classes just for doing staffwork? Yes please!

Thanks to my friends and staff partners who modeled the pursuit of seminary when I was young on staff. In particular, thanks to Una and Ruth for showing me the way.

Thanks to our ministry supporters and partners who have given specifically toward my Fuller studies. Thanks to them, I am graduating without school loans and Amy and I have only paid for one course out of pocket, and that was by choice!

Thanks to Dr. Jim Dixon, my uncle. I appreciate Jim's long and faithful ministry career. When I told Jim I'd be pursuing the "Masters in Global Leadership" degree, he deadpanned "well, Rob, I've always considered your leadership to be global in nature." Right. I'm honored to be the second Fuller grad in the Dixon family.

Thanks to my current supervisor Tom Allen. When I sat down with Tom to tell him I was thinking about applying for the program, I barely got the words out before he said, "Rob, that's great. And InterVarsity will give 4 hours a week for your studies." What a blessing to a supervisor who is so clearly in your corner!

Thanks to my staff team in the Surf and Turf. They didn't always know it, but they have basically been my guinea pigs over the last 2+ years as I worked out the content that I received in the program. What do you know, the stuff really does work!

Thanks to Tina, my friend and ministry buddy. For years I'd been debating whether to do more school and, if so, which program to do. When Tina told me she was applying for the MAGL, I decided right then and there to join her. T, thanks for motivating me; it's been a privilege to walk the journey alongside you.

Thanks to Bob Green, de facto president of the "Rob Dixon Spiritual Health Committee." Bob's steady encouragement mixed with frank accountabilty have helped to "keep the river within its banks" during this season.

Thanks to my family for rooting me on. My amazing in-laws housed me last summer while I toiled away at two classes. And thanks mom and dad for coming down for the ceremony this morning. I'm blessed to be a part of two terrific families!

Thanks to my cohort friends. The MAGL is good because of the content. It's great because of the community. So, thanks to Chris, Claudia, Hamp, Chad, Kevin, Eddie, York, Eliezer, Matt Jo, Laeti, Chef, Jeanette, Tina, Zewdie, Jonathan and Keith. Matt Jo, it was an honor to share the graduation experience with you. Front row all the way!

Thanks to the MAGL committee. For admitting me, sure. For guiding me through the program, you bet. But, most of all, for putting aside Fuller's 10 year class rule so that I could graduate without having to retake 7 courses that were set to expire. That decision saved me perhaps 3 years and more than $10K. I'm deeply grateful for that profound grace.

Lastly, thanks to Amy and the kids. For the permission to pursue this degree in the first place. For the patience as I labored over papers, readings, online blogs and more. For the encouragement, challenge and steady support. And for believing in me. Dr. Mouw handed me the diploma today, but, in a real sense, he should have handed it to our whole family.

What a great village, right?!? Or, to borrow some imagery from Hebrews 12, what a huge (and awesome!) cloud of witnesses! I'm blessed.

We had a fox hunt at the Dixon house today!

A Fly in the Soup Merry Christmas!

Evolving in Monkey Town

In the last month or so, I've really come to appreciate Rachel Held Evans' blog (here). For me she does a great job offering insightful commentary on the Bible, culture, issues, etc. with an attractive dash of whimsy. In particular, I've appreciated her stuff on women in the church. 

So I was eager to pick up her memoir (if you can in fact write a memoir at 27!), entitled Evolving in Monkey Town. As Evans herself would describe it, Evolving tells the story of her journey from fundamentalist (like the southern kind) certainty to faith. Along the way, the reader gets a glimpse into her process of evolving from being someone with all the answers to someone who learns both how to ask good questions and sit with ambiguity in terms of response.

For me Evans' journey in some ways mirrors my own. I've found that as I've gotten older the world has become more complex, not less. So too with faith. And at times that feels counter-intuitive; after all, wouldn't you expect that with maturity comes clarity? I guess what I'm saying is that I see a lot more gray as I go along; black and white was something that was easier to see in my 20s. Sheesh, I'm sounding like Bob Green!

And so with that as backdrop, you'll understand that Evans' comfort with living with unanswered questions was a helpful handle for me as I think about my own experience. And yet I left Evolving with a somewhat hollow feeling as well. Call it the last vestiges of modernity's hold on me if you will, but I found myself muttering things like "OK, I'm good living with tensions and uncertainty, but, at some point, don't you have to land somewhere?!?" Should our faith be ever-growing (evolving)? Yes. But don't there need to be some bedrock, stable truths as well. I think yes. 

All of this said, I commend Evans' commitment to never settling, for never having arrived at an understanding. Because Jesus warns us to watch out for what we think we know, doesn't he? After all, look at how he engaged the fundamentalists of his day, the Pharisees.

Why I love the morning walk to school

No doubt, it's rough getting out the door around here. I mean, there are four kids who need to be fed, clothed, brushed, badgered, cajoled and brow-beaten into school-shape. To be sure, most mornings in the Dixon house are a 45 minute, all-out, patience-testing sprint to the doorway. It's exhausting.

But here's the thing...once we're out the door, it's glorious. I absolutely LOVE our morning walk to school. Here's why:

1. It gives us a chance to talk. It's the difference between 5 minutes in the van and 15-20 on the sidewalk. In the van, you barely have time to clear channels about the day's schedule. On the walk, you can do so much more. Recently, Lily and I have spent our walks playing the letter game. We use her class' letter of the week and come up with as many words as possible that start with that letter. It's super fun. Maybe even better is listening to the kids talk to one another. This morning Josh and Lucy had a nice chat about the spaghetti tacos that are on today's lunch menu (The verdict? Sounds gross).

2. Walking is good for us. I mean physically. It's about a half mile to the school, so put us down for a bit of morning exercise. And for me, let's face it, at 40 any exercise is good exercise!

3. It gives the van a rest. As our only car, our van works hard. It deserves a morning off every now and then, you know? Walking is one way the Dixons are trying to go green.

4. We get to see the neighbors. You see people when you walk. Lots of "good mornings" to the neighbors as they walk out their doors and get in their cars to head to work. This morning my neighbor even rolled down his window and shouted a hearty "mornin' neighbor" as he drove by. Where are we? The 1950s?!? Also, lots of waving. I have like 4 cars that I wave at pretty much every morning. I've never once had a conversation with the drivers, but I've waved at them dozens of times. Bottom line is that the longer we live here the more I feel like a stakeholder in our neighborhood, and those brief morning connections during the walk only encourage that.

5. Slowing down feels counter-cultural. And good. I mean, our culture is in large part about efficiency, and walking is not the most efficient way to get to school. But, to be honest, I kinda like pushing back on the flow of culture. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for our van, but having a reliable vehicle is really a luxury. And there's something gratifying and life-giving in choosing simplicity.

So there you go. Let's walk people. If only I could figure out a way to make the race to the door as fun!

Francis Chan's Forgotten God

On the recommendation of one of my Interns, I recently picked up a copy of Francis Chan's Forgotten God. His take is that the church has essentially squelched or quenched the Holy Spirit. My take is that he's pretty much right.

On a personal conviction level, here was the most vivid passage for me: 

"What if you grew up on a desert island with nothing but the Bible to read? Imagine being rescued after twenty years and then attending a typical evangelical church. Chances are you'd be shocked (for a whole lot of reasons, but that is another story). Having read the Scriptures outside the context of contemporary church culture, you would be convinced that the Holy Spirit is as essential to a believer's existence as air is to being alive...There is a big gap between what we read in Scripture about the Holy Spirit and how most believers and churches operate today." (p. 16)

Got your attention?!? To me calling out this gap is Chan's strength. And he repeats, redefines and clarifies that gap over and again. That said, as a theology text, Forgotten God is pretty light. See chapter 3 for his 7 theological points. In addition, Chan majors on our personal connection (or lack of) with the Spirit; I found myself craving a chapter on how the Spirit speaks to US, as a community. The bottom line is that Forgotten God is best suited for devotional reading, like in a quiet time setting. It could also work in a group. 

May God help me (and us!) to close the gap so that our praxis more closely approaches the Scriptural emphasis on the Holy Spirit!

So I'm watching GMA this morning and...there I am on the screen...wearing spandex...

Just scroll through to 14 seconds and look for the vintage Cal Poly jersey...

Lucy's Desk

So last weekend, I built Lucy a desk. The only two requirements were as follows:

1. I could only use materials that I had on hand. On the plus side, I didn't go to Lowe's even once! On the flip side, my lack of wood filler means the screw holes are kind of eyesores.

2. It had to be small. The targeted space was about 28 inches wide, between Lucy's bed and the opened closet door. In the end, the desk is maybe 2 feet wide and 22 inches out from the wall.

Bottom line, it's a decent piece of work. Best of all is that Lucy loves it. Not that she can use it, because in the span of about 5 minutes, it was covered in goodies!

The Dixon men take Denver

So Josh and I are in Denver for 5 days of family, fun, sweets, fun, family, sweets and more fun. Here are a couple of shots from the start of the trip:

Because why wouldn't you put a massive red rabbit in your new terminal?

Josh playing my birthday guitar. Thanks Mark!

Coors Field was born on Josh's birthday in 1995

OK Mick...

I made him swear to me that his heart was still Dodger blue!

Perfect end to a super fun day!

A GREAT Father's Day

What a day yesterday! Here's the play by play:

7:00 6 mile run with the boys

9:00 Family yardwork session

10:30 Jamba Juice run

11:00 Veg it up in front of the TV

2:00 20 miles on the bike over to the pool

3:30 Swimming!

4:30 Father's Day shopping at Sports Authority (got a shirt)

5:30 Wahoo's Fish Tacos for dinner

8:30 In bed, worn out

Whew! As I told the kids last night, it's easy to be a good dad when you've got amazing kids. Here's a shot from yesterday:

Our spiritual home!

So we spent the last four days at Campus by the Sea, with the following view from our front door. In other news, I miss being at Campus by the Sea...

Feeling Nostalgic

Amy's working on a blog post right now and she asked me find a picture from our 2003 trip to Guatemala. It's got me itching to go back! Here are three of my favs from that summer:

Why I stay on staff

Yesterday a dear friend asked me a really good question. She wondered why I stay on staff. For me, it's a good question primarily because I don't often ask it of myself. I should ask it more. Because monitoring the state of one's call strikes me as something that's helpful to do on a regular basis (as opposed to something we do once every 4 years or so on staff). So, here are a few reasons why I stay on staff:

1. God's not done working in my soul yet. In a lot of ways, this has been a hard year for me in ministry. Lots of heartache. Believe me, I have my fair share of days when fleeing seems very tempting. But, after I take a breath, I realize that the ups and downs of ministry are shaping me. That is, ministry is about what I do, but it's also/more about how God is forming me. And, right now, it doesn't feel like he's done yet.

2. I have a sustaining passion for our mission. Don't get me wrong, my passion wanes from time to time, but, for the most part, I feel a continual burden for seeing (as IV's vision suggests) students transformed, campuses renewed and world changers developed. Yesterday I got to help a staff team think about their structures and strategies for next year, and I left deeply satisfied.

3. I work with great people. I have friends who tell me that the hardest part of their job are their co-workers. From time to time, that's true for me as well (if I'm honest--and you know who you are!!). But it's likewise true that consistently the best part of my job is my staff community. I work alongside people who spur on my faith, who are interested in who I am becoming, who care about my family and who are a whole lot of fun. I can't imagine working in a cubicle somewhere not knowing my neighbors.

4. It fits our life stage. If I wasn't on staff with its flexible work schedule, I don't know how I would coach soccer, chase a Masters or do the school pick-ups. I don't know how we would manage Amy's writing. Sure, I travel a lot, but a day like today, when I'm home and available, surely keeps me on staff.

5. I think I'm being prepared. Am I an IV lifer? Who knows?!? Maybe so, maybe not. I'm sure on staff long after I would have thought I would have left! But I have a sense that God is right now preparing me for more, whether that's in or out of IV. In other words, I'm not just stuck here. God is forming my character (#1) but he's also galvanizing my leadership in preparation for something different down the road. It feels great to be moving forward.

Thanks, Lord, for continuing to call, and keep giving me the strength to answer.

Highlight of my Spring

So this Spring I tried my hand at head coaching an under 8 girls soccer team and WOW it was awesome. Kudos to the Purple Dragons for letting this newbie coach them up week after week! Here's our season by the numbers:

Pre-season record: 2-1
Regular-season record:  4-1-1
Overall record: 6-2-1
Goals scored: 32 (3.6 per game)
Goals given up: 13 (1.4 per game)
Goals by quarter:
    1st: 5 (we were a slow starting team!
    2nd: 7
    3rd: 7
    4th: 13 (but we finished strong!)
Players scoring goals: 6 (Mackenzie, Madison, Lucy, Ayianna, Melissa and Jessica)

I learned a few things along the way:

1. You can't coach everything. In the beginning, I had visions for teaching the girls advanced soccer theory and practice. Like set plays. Like dribbling moves. Like diving headers. You know, Brazilian stuff. Early on, however, I realized I had to adjust my aim. So, the Purple Dragons got a heavy dose of three things: positions, passing and attacking the ball. Repeat.

2. Under 8 girls can be squirrely. First few practices, I was trying to wrangle all 12 girls through practice drills solo. Can you say, "frustrating?!?" Big shout out to Amy for stepping in and adding Assistant Coach to her Team Mom duties.

3. Parents matter. I was beyond blessed this Spring with GREAT PARENTS (and I'm not just saying that in case one of them reads this!). My parents (and grandparents, aunts, uncles, family friends, siblings, etc.) were terrific. Not so on other sidelines. I heard parents berating coaches, refs, our girls and, most troubling, their own kids. I suspect that in some ways parents can make or break a season. Again, glad to have good ones this time around.

4. Communication counts. I tried hard to make sure that our parents were in the loop, which is perhaps partly why they were so positive throughout the season. So I would cook up a handout describing what we were working on and what I would like for the parents to cheer for at that weekend's game. And it worked. It's the little things.

5. I like to teach... It was fun to teach the girls a game that I'm passionate about. Seeing progress from week to week was terrific.

6. ...and I also like to win. You know how sometimes you hear coaches talk about how it's about the journey not the destination? I like the notion, but it's not totally true. Because losing SUCKS. One weekend, because of a rain out, we played the same team twice, once on Saturday and then again on Sunday. We came out on Saturday and got absolutely SPANKED, 4-0. It was our first (and worst) lost of the regular season and it stung. Coming back the next day, I was nervous that we'd get drubbed again. Still, I came with one agenda: ATTACK THE BALL. I preached that and only that during warm-up. And you know what? The girls did it. They were aggressive and we eeked out a hard fought 2-1 win. Afterward, I was a very happy Coach Rob. Winning rules.

Here are a couple of shots from the pizza party, and a team pic from our last game. The plaque is a beautiful piece that one of the dads made for me of a purple dragon and all of the girls' signatures. 

On trotting out an old worship leader

In another ministry life, I lead a lot of worship. As in weekly. It's sort of weird for me to reflect back on that because it's been years (wow, almost 10) since I did it regularly, and in my current line of work, I almost never have opportunities to lead. But, once upon a time, it was the biggest part of my job on staff, and for 7-8 years, I was the worship guy.

So when I was invited to come and lead worship at the Cal Poly IV Large Group meeting last Friday night, I jumped at the chance. How could I not? To be back in the Business Building silo leading the people of God into the presence of God? It's a no brainer. Couple of reflections on the experience:

1. It was like I never left. Don't get me wrong, I was nervous and I'm sure I missed more than my fair share of chord changes, but wow it was fun. All of the sensations were the same: the sound of the students, the temperature of the silo, where I was standing, the lights, and, yes, the smell of my drummer's sweaty pits....

2. It was like WE never left. Because for this thing, we got the band back together.That's right, one comment on facebook and the team came out of the woodwork. How fun to lead with dear friends! At one point, during Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble?, I looked over to cue the band to replay the chorus only to find them...looking right back at me waiting for that cue. 10+ years later, we were still tight! I chalk it up to the unifying Spirit of God and to a lot of hours leading worship alongside one another.

3. I've come a long way. There was a time when I first started leading where I would almost invariably sit down after the main set wracked with self-doubt. I used to call it "I suck mode" and I lived there a lot. Too much. On Friday, taking my seat after the main set was over, I had nothing but appreciation for the Lord and for how far He has brought me in this area. Those missed chords? Who cares?!? (if you were there and you care, go ahead and sound off in the comments...but I won't read them!)

4. Worship leadership is a super complex thing. So much to think about! The worship leader needs to consider (in no particular order):

a. Playing the right chords.

b. Singing the right notes.

c. Where the song is going next.

d. What the next song is and how to get from this one to that one.

e. Should I stick to the plan or is it time to do something different?

f. What the rest of the band is (or isn't) doing. (especially missed notes from certain keyboard players...)

g. What's happening with the congregation.

h. What the Spirit of God is doing.

i. What's for dinner after the meeting.

And maybe like 10 more things! Oh, and you want to try to worship as well!

In the end, I hope they have us back. It was a blast. I think it'll be the highlight of this ministry year. Here's a shot from practice of me and part of the crew:

Let's beautify this blog a bit!

Update: Running

I can't believe it, 'cause it's been such a big deal around here, but I don't think I've blogged at all about the saga that has been my quest to run the 2012 ING New York City Marathon. With an eye to potentially hawking Amy's book and with 15 years of marriage needing some serious celebrating, we've been talking about going this Fall with our good friends the Clearys. Anyhow, here's the word on the marathon...

I'm in. 

Now here's the story.

To begin with, along with hundreds of thousands of my dearest running buddies, I entered the marathon lottery. You had to plunk down some dinero for an 8% (or less) chance of making it into the race. Imagine that! A bajillion people paying (and praying) to put themselves through the torture of 26.2. Destination marathoning at it's best I'd say!

So then there was this wait, of maybe 3 months. Then, about 3 weeks ago, they did the drawing. I waited all day and then the news came...in the form of a big, fat NO. 43,000 runners, but no room for me!

From there it was on to plan B. Plan B was to consider racing for a charity. Every year the New York Marathon raises a truckload of money for selected charities. Many of these charities are ones you've heard of. There's Lance's charity, UNICEF, the American Cancer Society, the Red Cross, etc. Then there are a slew of groups that you haven't heard about. What happens is that the race gives these groups a certain number of spots and the group recruits runners who will do fundraising in exchange for a spot. In most cases, the target fundraising number is $3K.

After some deliberation (do I really want to do MORE fundraising?) and consideration (we could always try this in future years...is now really the best time?), I/we opted to give it a go. Looking through the list of marathon charities, I picked out a good one called Camfed. I applied and my application was accepted. Holy cow, I'm going to New York to tackle this.

More on Camfed in my next post. For now, rejoice with me! The Dixons are taking New York!

Some Reflections on Zinsser

Now that I've processed On Writing Well here, here, here and here, and with some time to reflect and digest, here are five of my personal takeaways:

1. Keep it simple. One of Zinsser's repeated admonitions is a call for writing simplicity. I appreciate that call and would like to heed it more. In particular, fewer commas and more periods. Also, fewer adverbs. Recently I invited some writing feedback from an editor that I respect, and he told me that I can go overboard with my adverbs. Who knew?!? Truly, I was sincerely and completely surprised by his totally keen observation.

2. Make every word count. Zinsser is manic about every word doing "useful work." And since anything else I could add to this would be superfluous, I'll stop right here.

3. Writing as discipline. Zinsser starts out describing a picture of the writer E.B. White sitting at a desk typing, and what I love about that image is that it's a picture of consistency and discipline. That is, writing is about both striking while inspiration hits AND honing your craft through disciplined work. My pledge is to write more regularly, as I've already begun doing for Fuller.

4. Write what you're passionate about. Another Zinsser-esque idea that was affirmed in my meeting with the editor. Of the three writing samples that I sent him over email, he could tell which one I was most passionate about. I'm committed to engaging my passions through writing.

5. It's OK to let myself be seen. The only formal writing training that I've received is through my undergrad program, in a class on historical writing. And one of the points of emphasis in that course was the principle of keeping yourself out of the piece. "I" is strictly (wait, would that be an extra adverb?) verbotten! Zinsser presses against that strenuously, even (especially?) when he's talking about business writing. So, my resolve is to put myself out there more in my writing in an effort to humanize my pieces. More stories, more illustrations.

Anyhow, thanks Zinsser. You've been terrific. Anyone know any other good books on writing?!?

If any of you writing saints from that lunch today find your way to this blog...

...thanks. And, Eric, thanks for the ice cream.