• Hi, I'm Brad Abare

  I'm a make-it-happen guy working with big idea people. I design teams and orchestrate strategy so that great ideas I believe in get done.
  
  I am Jamaica's husband, Foursquare's comm director, Personality's founder, and a catalyst for CFCC.
  
  

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“I have the shoes you gave her if you want them back,” said the trembling voice on the other end of the phone.

We got the late-night tear-filled call from Dottie the day after Jamaica gave her shoes to Medea. Dottie and Medea are a regular part of our home(less) group that meets each week. I was unable to participate in last week’s gathering, but I later learned that Jamaica and Medea spent an unusual amount of time with each other that night. Come to find out, giving her shoes to Medea was the culmination of a strong bonding time they shared through conversation and the care-filled presence of one another.

The call from Dottie was to inform us of Medea’s sudden death. Medea was found face-down in the dirt and was still wearing Jamaica’s shoes that she had received the night before. From what we can gather, Medea died of liver failure.

For reasons different than the passing of those familiar to our lives, it’s challenging to mourn the life of an invisible person. Who witnessed her life? Where is her family? Who will miss her? What impact did she have on people for the last half a century? Was Medea even her real name?

Several of us gathered last night around the space Medea called home. Huddled around the glow of a few candles, we read Scripture and prayed. We shared memories of the Medea we knew so briefly and ended with a group recitation of the Lord’s Prayer.

Ever since I started working at Foursquare (six years ago) and getting inside the culture and familiarity of all that it means to “be” Foursquare, I’ve been mildly observant of tribalism. The concept of loyalty and identification with a particular group of people–for the sake first and foremost of those same people–seems to be rare these days. This is especially true in the U.S. where individualism is so prevalent.

My hunch has been that humanity’s steady departure from tribalism is being replaced by our fascination with causes. Religion, poverty, the environment, education, health care, deadly diseases, water supply, public transportation, are all becoming rallying points for people to come together. Because we’re not already together as a tribe, we’re coming together instead around a cause.

A slightly contradicting viewpoint comes from one of my favorite magazines, The Economist. They recently wrote about how Americans are increasingly choosing to live among like-minded neighbors. The article refers several times to a new book out by Bill Bishop called The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart.

Needless to say the book is on order. And my thinking about tribalism continues.

Mark Batterson shared a takeaway from some time he spent with Rick Warren yesterday. He said that we grow by making commitments. “You don’t grow to commitment. You grow through commitment.”

What a powerful perspective on how to do life. I think the less we’re committed to something, the more we commit to anything. I am reminded of the familiar phrases we often hear when someone is struggling with an addiction. “He should be committed.” “She was finally committed after the last arrest.” Commitment is definitely an answer to overcoming some of life’s greatest challenges, but imagine how much more meaningful life would be if commitment helped guide our life instead of resuscitate our life.

What am I committed to?
Who am I committed to?

While in Haiti last week I kept a “duffle bag” of thoughts and circled one key statement that summarized or stuck out most each day. The following are highlights from those thoughts. I am still sorting through the culture shock of being back and what life means moving forward. I have been on many missions trips and it seems like the older you get the wiser you get toward wanting to help and being able to help. The struggle continues.

They give us their best
This was obvious from the moment we arrived. They prepared the best food for us, even though the average Haitian eats three meals per week, and usually no more than one meal per day. They wore the best clothes they had, which were usually better than anything I brought to wear. The house they provided for us to stay in was the nicest place in town. The sad thing about them giving us their best is that I’m afraid I didn’t give them mine.

They appear to be carefree and happy
They drop everything to walk and talk with you. It was like we had an entourage everywhere we went. I realize a lot of this is because we were the only white people in town, but their carefree and happy posture was their way of loving, laughing and learning.

They love to laugh
In spite of their obvious setbacks and suffering, they love to laugh. Really laugh. Gut-busting laughs. Laughs that make you laugh at their laughing. It was easy to joke around and smile together, even though we spoke different languages.

Read more

Shortly before Christmas, Jamaica and I joined up with our home(less) group friends (also mentioned in our Christmas letter) and we went out for pizza dinner at the famous Casa Bianca, just a few blocks from our usual spot at the Eagle Rock McDonald’s. Many were invited but only a handful were able to make it. It was great to share a meal with friends!

I meant to post this a few weeks ago, but I just now got the photo. The camera it was taken with was in hawaii for the last three weeks with its owner!

Pictured here, from the left and around the circle to the right:
Karin, Chris, Brian, Dottie, Laura, Candiss, Jamaica, me, Cathy, Ed, and Larry.

Jamaica and I have talked about adoption for the last several years and more recently it has been a hot topic for us. Seems like we can’t escape it.

• Our friends Brian and Jenny adopted a child from Guatemala this past year.

• Our friends Kevin and Abby are adopting a child from Ethiopia next year. (See inset banner image.)
• I was a groomsmen in a wedding last weekend and two of the groomsmen I stood with had adopted children.
• One of the homeless people we hang with each week shared her adoption journey with us last month.
• Today is also National Adoption Day.

Hmmm….

The same voice in my head from last week on my flight to LA also showed up this past Friday morning. It wasn’t Jamaica this time, but it could have been.

It was 6:15 a.m. and I was walking to my curb-parked car after yawning my way down the elevator T.G.I.F.-ing.

I was five steps from the car and a homeless guy asked for a few bucks.

“I don’t have anything in my pockets.”
“Some spare change?”
“I don’t have any.”

The truth was that I didn’t have any money in my pockets. I had the money in my day-planner.

The homeless guy scattered off looking for another pre-dawn giver.

The voice spoke up.

“You liar. You told the truth, but not the whole truth.”
“You have twelve dollars in your day-planner and you know it.”

I sat there for 60 seconds before rolling down the window.

“Hey man, here you go.”

I gave him all of the cash I had on me and found out his name is Darryl.

“Have a good day, Darryl.”
“You too.”

I really don’t have any cash on me.

I need to pay attention to the Voice.

On the last flight of my multi-city trip last week, I shared it with Michael, a colleague I work with at Foursquare. It was a late-night flight from Cincinnati to Los Angeles. Traveling west, we would be getting more time and more tired with each passing hour.

Our seats were not booked together. I scored a bulkhead exit row right by the entrance to the plane. No seats in front of me. I could be the first one on and off. Nice.

I was in boarding group one because when you sit in a bulkhead, they want you on first to find a place for your bag. Michael was in group nine. His seat was five rows back. He walked by me as he boarded the plane and jeered at my location.

I was on the phone with Jamaica sharing the excitement about my seat assignment.

“Where is Michael sitting,” asked my darling wife.
“A few rows back. He’s got an aisle, he’s fine.”
“You should trade seats with him.”
“I’m not trading seats. Besides, he’s already got his bags stowed.”
“You should give him your seat. You know that is the right thing to do.”

After a few minutes of thanking God for my wonderfully supportive wife, I got Michael’s attention and offered up my seat. “No thanks,” he said, “I’ll be fine.” I insisted. Twice.

Ten minutes later we were both sitting in the same exit row. No one had checked in for the seats in my row. It was now our row.

I need to pay attention to the Voice.

I’ve been jotting several quotes this week that deserve more than a pithy ponder, but alas inspiration and motivation continue to compete with availability and priority.

• “People need to be reminded more often than they need to be instructed.” Samuel Johnson

• Give people a way to belong and measure their significance. Patrick Lencioni
• Practical atheism: we believe God exists, but he doesn’t in what we do. Craig Groeschel
• “Intentionally add value to people every day.” John Maxwell
• “Systems create behavior.” Andy Stanley
• “Redemption costs more than creation.” Jack Hayford
• I want to be stunned by humility.

I pulled out the guitar again after six years of collecting dust and started taking lessons this month. I forgot everything I learned so I’m starting all over. I want to learn how to play because it’s a discipline outside of my normal learning path. I don’t want to be a rock star or even play in public. Sometimes I wish I did want to be the next Jimi Hendrix because I’d be a little more motivated to learn. Learning without significance is frustrating!

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