On invalid signatures, rejection, reflection, and relief

I got the call Wednesday morning that I didn’t have enough valid signatures to place me on the ballot for the Blacksburg Town Council elections. For those of you who had no idea I was attempting to run, check out the post here. I wanted to offer some thoughts on the process and results.

First of all, I procrastinated severely. I didn’t even begin gathering the needed 125 signatures until Monday morning. They were due Tuesday evening by 7 p.m. My procrastination wasn’t a sign that I didn’t take it seriously. Rather, it may have been indicative of my hesitancy and over-thoughtfulness. As I mentioned in the post linked above, I love politics, but many don’t like the idea of a pastor engaging in civil service through public office. I’ve considered running for various positions for a long time, yet I kept looking for a “no” rather than initiating a campaign.

Sometimes beginning is only what you’re supposed to do.

So on Monday a.m., I launched myself at Blacksburg through social media and a two-foot campaign. Over the next 36 hours, I walked, knocked, stood and drove around town gathering signatures one by one. I met more new people in those hours than I have in a long time. Though exhausting, it was also refreshing. I realized again how much I enjoy life. I like people. I like interacting with them. This is strange coming from me, for I’ve always been a self-identified learned extrovert. It doesn’t come naturally.

You can’t be a Jesus follower and not like people.

Regardless of political positions, one of the undergirding thoughts behind serving in public office was simply one concept: love deeply. There is an appalling absence of love – genuine love – in our culture and public leaders and political parties today. I’m not talking about mushy, feelings-based love. I’m talking about hard-to-practice, do-what’s-best-for-another love. Love that is a commitment before it’s a cause. Love that is anchored in truth, not in making someone feel good.

I encountered an old concept called favor this week.

I don’t mean the “I need a favor” kind of favor, even though that’s what it may have looked like. I mean favor in the sense of undeserved goodwill freely given. In at least two different instances, I had relative strangers fill up petition sheets for me. One was a Democratic campaign worker who I met at the library. She graciously offered to get signatures for me while she sat there. Another was an acquaintance on Twitter who contacted me through that venue and offered to take a sheet around her neighborhood who is active in Republican efforts. Though I was running as an “Independent,” both were amazingly gracious. Help always comes from unexpected places, and in those moments, I realize again how strange and pleasant it is to put yourself out there, to meet new people, and to learn to depend on folks who you may not even know.

It’s no fun being rejected.

There were only a few people who were rude. Regardless of someone’s political position, I believe everyone should have a fair shot at being on a ballot. The people who refused to sign were business people. In one instance, I pushed back a tad. Here’s how the conversation went:

She: “I don’t sign petitions.”

Me: “Do you vote?”

She: “Yes.”

Me: “You know that the people had to get petitions signed to get on a ballot?”

She: “Yes.”

She still wouldn’t sign. Then she informed me that her husband was a “constitutional theorist.” I have no idea what that means, but whatever it means, I don’t believe it equated to good citizenship in her case. Another businessman wanted to grill me before he would sign my petition but informed me that he was so busy he didn’t have time at the moment. It was hard to communicate to them and a few others that signing the petition did not equate to supporting or voting for me. It just gives the petitioner a fair shake at getting on the ballot. I guess they viewed themselves as self-appointed political gatekeepers.

Being rejected was both disappointing and refreshing. One is self-explanatory. It was refreshing because I’m a pastor, and in church circles, most people know the pastor of the church they attend. I’m recognized while I’m out and about in town by people who have visited our church. Because of that, it’s sometimes easy to mistake being known for being well-known. Being rejected because people don’t know me provokes me to get out of my limited circle of influence. It propels me to diversify my relational portfolio. The community is larger than I think.

The political process needs to go digital and grow up.

It’s not 1850 anymore. After failing to get the required signatures in spite of having 50+ more than I needed, I wish there was a better process – a digital one – for petitions. I understand and support the need for being personally present to vote, but I don’t see the need for a paper trail for petitions and simply getting on a ballot. I say let the actual campaign trail sort out who gets elected, not technicalities on petitions.

Everyone should be willing to fail forward.

I think my main opponent through this experience was simply time. I just didn’t get started soon enough. That said, I’m glad that I tried. Too many people simply sit on the sidelines and complain. To only complain is to abdicate responsibility. Get involved.

It’s a convoluted process, I’ll grant you that. It’s not easy simply to start. I had a hard time finding out how to run, how to even begin. The only digital instructions I was able to hunt down on the web simply told me to go to the county registrar’s office. I feel like there should be a consistent web link that says, “Think you can do a better job? Sign up for run for office here” or “Tired of complaining? Start serving your community. Sign up to run here.” Instead, it’s a paper chase. But deal with it, and get involved. You may fail, but fail forward.

It’s a relief.

Finally, when the call from the registrar’s office informed me that I didn’t have enough valid signatures, my first thought, honestly, was one of brief disappointment. I don’t like to fail at something that should be simple. I don’t like to let people down. However, my immediate and primary thought was of relief. There’s my “no,” I thought. It’s good to be told “no” sometimes. It’s clarifying. For me, a “no” has also been an opportunity for redirection.

Our church is growing, and I certainly have enough on my plate there. However, I really do want to broaden my involvement and encourage others to do the same. I would hope that my church – any church – would be the kind of fellowship of faith friends that contribute positively to the life of a community. So much so that townsfolk would miss the church if it didn’t exist any longer.

Thanks.

For all those who signed a petition, carried them around, spoke kind words, left digital encouragements, etc., thanks. It was a brief, short-lived experience that will continue to teach me a lot. I can’t speak with the confidence of the Terminator and say “I’ll be back,” but I can speak with joy and say, “I’ll be around.”

Running for Blacksburg Town Council

It’s been a long, waffling process. I finally sleuthed out where to go and pick up papers to fill out for candidacy. I couldn’t find anything online about how to begin the process, nor where to go. After a few misfires, I finally had the papers in hand. And there they sat as I continued to ask myself, do you really want to do this?

I corresponded with our church’s Leadership Board over the weekend to get their thoughts and impressions. I didn’t want to enter the process if they were not supportive. In the end, it’s Monday morning, and though it’s last minute, I’m not late. I need 125 signatures on election petitions in order to be placed on the November ballot. (You must be a registered Blacksburg voter to sign.)

Why am I attempting to run? 

Let me try to sum up my thoughts and rationale for running:

First of all, I’m a citizen, and I believe that all citizens should serve at some level. This is true on a number of levels. You want all your employees engaged, all your church members ministering. It’s about lending your voice, resources, experience, wisdom, personality and perspective to the process for a season.

Second, I love politics. I hate to confess that. I love the idea of working with a wide variety of people, opinions and worldviews to produce a beneficial outcome that blesses a wide range of people.

Another reason is that I’d like to extend my relational circles in our community. Leading a church can be a rather insular experience. As I encourage our members to be the church, I cannot avoid getting involved in the community myself. As a leader, I too, must invest and find ways to serve that corresponds to my strengths and aptitudes and interests.

Another reason in conjunction with the last is to avoid hypocrisy. I wrote in my book Super Center Savior:

If you’re consistently involved in the activities and ministries of your church but not in your community, you may be attempting to meet your own religious needs rather than the needs of others.

I must model what I preach and what I ask the members of our church to do. I can’t say “get involved in the community,” and remain immersed in activities that remove me from involvement in our community.

Finally, there are some things that I’d like to see addressed better locally. I don’t know that alone I’d be able to make a difference, but I’d like my voice to be able to give other people in the community a voice that feel like they don’t have one on the Blacksburg Town Council.

I’ll be out and about for a good part of the day. If you’re willing, I’d appreciate you signing a petition to get me on the ballot.

Why I am not responding to your texts

I’ve been a Mac guy since 1988. My mom and dad graciously bought me the first iPhone the day of its release. Carolyn and Sam waited in a small line at the AT&T store in Monticello, Arkansas for mine. Since then, I’ve owned every iteration of the iPhone as well as several Powerbooks, iBooks, MacBooks, Macbook Pros, etc. I’m an early adopter tech geek.

However, I’ve begun a DLAE. (Digital Lifestyle Adjustment Experiment) I pronounce it “delay” (Because I can. I invented the acronym, as far as I know. And delay is an appropriate word for my digital life right now.) You can read about the first part of my DLAE here, where I exchanged my iPhone 5 for a 10 year old dumb phone.

I’d like to share two general reflections in this entry:

1. My observations on part 1
2. How I’m handling text messages now

Observations on Part 1 of the DLAE

I had a few moments of withdrawal over the weekend in Richmond. We were at a wedding that I performed. Carolyn (who graciously is also cutting back on her digital life) was looking at her iPhone and taking pictures. I found myself greedily looking over her shoulder, and a few times I held back from asking her in a moment of digital desperation to read me her Twitter timeline.

Overall, however, one thing I’ve noticed is the quietness. Usually when I’m waiting in line or have a still second, I’m checking email, Twitter, the news, weather or playing Dice with Buddies. No more. When I’m still, I have no input going on from a device in my hand. While I’m new at this processing, it feels a whole lot like…. 2003 (my first smartphone was a Palm Treo).

I am growing to like being undistracted by the trivial in moments of life that should remain quiet and reflective. I’m having ideas again. (It’s hard to have random ideas – whether quirky, creative or brilliant – when you’re filling every free mental moment with techno dribble.)

Another reflection is people’s reactions to my DLAE. Within hours of posting my first entry, my website hits were way up. In person, people have responded to me weirdly. I’ve had a unanimously positive response from people, and most of them seem like thirsty people gazing across a desert at a watering hole. They look at my dumb phone with its T9 texting and seem to unconsciously drool over the whole concept. I did not begin the DLAE to be an example. I am not looking at people in judgement when they pull out their devices. On the contrary, I’m still having to convince myself at times that not having easy access to an incredible camera in my pocket is not going to ruin my social life.

More observations to come…

How I’m handling text messages

This is part 2 of my DLAE. I get a lot of text messages. In fact, in recent months, it’s begun to dawn on me that I get text messages from people who really should be communicating their thoughts to me via email or in person. It concerns me when church members or friends text me a real-life problem issue in several paragraphs. Why in the world would they not just call me or email or set up a time to visit about their crisis?

On top of that, I get texts for things like

• Requests for phone numbers
• People telling me they’re late for meetings and on their way
• Questions about jobs
• Funny comments or observations

And I’ve had entire conversations with people over text messaging. I’m not criticizing it, but the reality is that this all takes place on an electronic device in my hand rather than in the presence of a human being. Yes, I know, it’s a medium, but here’s what I’m doing:

I’m texting less.

Yes, part of that is because my dumb phone has T9 texting. It’s a pain. (Although I do like having physical buttons to press so that I don’t have to look down all the time to confirm what I’m pressing.) But the reality is that texting is an interruption to my train of thought.

Consider this:

I’m working away on a project, with immense creativity and productivity. Ding. Text message. I stop and look over at the phone. Typically, I respond. Sometimes the text message throws me for a loop. It’s a reminder of something I need to take care of, or it’s “urgent,” and I’ll feel guilty if I don’t respond quickly (after all, they know I’ve seen it – especially on an iPhone which unhelpfully tells its sender that it’s been delivered and whether it’s been read or not).

Now, however, I’m intentionally letting my dumb phone chime or vibrate to its heart’s content. I am choosing to look at text messages only once every few hours. Then I respond. If someone truly needs me, they have my phone number, don’t they? Otherwise, texts are there for convenience, not urgency, in my opinion.

What’s it like? I’m honestly still struggling at times with guilt. I think I’ve become a little like one of Pavlov’s dogs (or Dwight and breath mints) in relation to the incessant chiming and buzzing of my phone. However, I’m beginning to feel freedom. I don’t think – for me – that’s too much of an exaggeration.

The idea behind strategic texting is simply to check in 3-4 times a day. People can expect to hear back from me – just not immediately in most cases.

A few notes

Before you think I’m a technological hermit, remember that I just bought an iPad Mini with 4G. I am not going dark. I am simply scheduling my digital lifestyle so that I’m not always “on.” I am still Instagramming (though that’s a challenge without the amazing iPhone camera), tweeting and advocating for Google+ instead of Facebook. (Although the Path app looks great these days too.) There are a couple of times a day that I play catch up with these streams – but they’re times that I plan for that.

On the whole, the past few days with my DLAE have been ones that I don’t regret at all. I’ll keep you posted with more observations and also about part 3 of my DLAE involving email.