One thing that the Coronavirus cannot impact: the change of seasons.
It’s prime time for fall foliage, and my wife and I took full advantage. We rented a secluded cabin just minutes from the Mississippi in southwestern Wisconsin, and… unbelievable.
Part of our weekend away together found us at a relatively new attraction called the Driftless Area Education and Visitors Center which provides a beautiful and educational snapshot of this particular unique part of our country.
I’m sure you’re captivated already and just can’t wait to see where this blog post goes next (sarcasm intended).
As we were wandering the various exhibits, one of them that drew my attention told the story of the various lock and dam systems on the Mississippi that the Army Corps of Engineers built.
I know: what a twist! But stay with me (please).
Lock and Dam systems are… nuts. (Seriously. Click on that link.)
Here’s my way-too-simplistic summary of the origin of lock and dam systems:
It’s the 1930’s. Your dad grew up riding a horse, probably. Cars have been around for only 30 years.
There’s this river that we want huge ships to be able to navigate. We’ve got all of this grain and corn and lumber that has to get places. And there aren’t interstates. Or semis.
There’s a massive group of diverse people from engineers to post-hole diggers that need to figure out how to work together to reshape specific parts of a RIVER so that these barges don’t keep running aground on sandbars.
And fast forward to now: there are 29 lock and dam systems in the Upper Mississippi River region that at their peak were accommodating over 2 million TONS of goods… ANNUALLY.
That’s 4,000,000,000 (four billion) pounds of goods.
And you think your job is hard.
That was my first thought, honestly, as I glanced at that exhibit:
I wonder how many people on the outside looking in and on the front end of all of that engineering and building would’ve simply said…
“Can’t be done.”
“That’s a crazy idea.”
“There’s no way.”
“Way too much involved in that.”
“Never going to work.”
Because how do you reshape rivers? How do you build those massive concrete structures—and then build something that can move them? How do you design and build a system that can float a barge that weighs 26,250 tons (!) on a FLIPPING RIVER?
I tried building a simple workbench one time. It showed me that I would’ve made a great post-hole digger in the lock and dam project. (Maybe not “great,” per se… serviceable.)
But they did it. 29 times over. Some of them in eras where horses were still kind of a normal mode of transportation.
And that, I think, is yet another prime example of this understated, often implied, but so very critical thing that we call…
Leadership.
- Someone (or a team of someones) had to conclude that it needed to be done, it had to be done, and it could be done.
- Someone (or a team of someones) had to figure out how and who on a massive and coordinated scale.
- Someone (or a team of someones) needed to fund it and then manage it.
And then the rest of us schmucks (like me) simply go on weekend getaways and stare in awe as these massive barges float up and down this river while we take pictures with our iPhones (which are yet another incredible engineering and leadership marvel).
And so after all of that, here was my last thought about all of this:
If the Army Corps of Engineers can figure out how to float barges down the Mississippi River without iPhones, then church leaders can figure out how to lead their people through the last leg of the Coronavirus and the election and the economy and whatever else comes our way in these next few months.
We can.
We can wear masks for longer. We can improve our online experience and digital strategy.We can reach out and care for our people and help them take next steps. We can empower our people to lead themselves and others.
It can be done.
It has to be done.
And you (or your team of someones) can do it.
If a team of engineers can tame a river without Jesus, then a team of church leaders can lead a church with Him.
