Andy Borgmann's Blog

I am down at Hilton Head this week with CJ, Andrea and Jadyn. We are having a blast. But Jadyn is 2 and goes to bed at like 9 pm. Andrea is 7-months pregnant, and she goes to bed at like 10pm. And CJ and I don't really like each other, and refuse to talk once the girls go to bed. So what's a boy to do on vacation? That's right, work...

I have good news if you are an iPhone user and an Allen Hunt Show fan. Tonight I have created a specific iPhone page for the allenhuntshow.com.

Currently it includes four sections: past shows, Allen's blog, daily real life and faith moment, and caller of the week. You can also use it to e-mail Allen.

To access, all you have to do is go to allenhuntshow.com on your iPhone and it should take care of the rest.

P.S. For those of you who aren't nerdy out there like me, and are more interested in my actual vacation time. You can view photos of the trip here. I'll be sure to post something about the vacation time later this week.

Right where the 605 and the 210 meet in Los Angeles, I distinctly remember the billboard when driving back from the beach in Orange County. It was a CitiBank billboard and it had the following phrase: "Your college girlfriend called and wanted to remind you that you were once poor and happy." Even at 21, the phrase resonated somewhere deep within me and I have never forgot it.

Fast forward 4 years. If you would have told me about the job I have now and the money I am making and the lifestyle I am living back in 2004, I wouldn't have believed you. It's been a whirlwind couple of years. But am I happier? Was life not better from the cheap seats?

Don't get me wrong, I am sure life is incredibly more stressful when you can't pay the bills. When you worry about foreclosures and debt and providing the basics for your family. It's just an inevitable that life gets complicated as the years go on, but does that by definition mean life gets less happy?

This weekend was a pretty fun one for me. Friday night, Justin and I saw the Braves series opener against the Reds from our seats (the cheap seats). The Braves won, with Hudson pitching a 2-hit, complete game (you never see CGs anymore). On Sunday, my Uncle invited me to the series finale against the Reds at his seats (the good seats) which were 8 rows back from home plate (the photo to the left doesn't do it justice).

But it got me thinking; do better "seats" in life, mean a better life?

What I find unique about most people I know who are "rich," is there is a distinctly different tone they use when referring to the old, "poor" days. There is a fondness there. Talking about beat up cars barely making it home. Eating PB&J for days on end. Not being able to go to movies or pay for cable and just enjoying one another. Are those days lost as we progress?

I am not sure what the answer is. I am only 25, and by American standards, I am not exactly "rich". But maybe that is a good thing. Maybe life is better in the cheap seats and I should enjoy it while I can. Maybe that is what the Bible means when it says:

Ecclesiastes 2:26
To the man who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness, but to the sinner he gives the task of gathering and storing up wealth to hand it over to the one who pleases God. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

It's 6:30 am and I can't get back to sleep. I can't get out of my head that 6.3 miles¹ away in another bed, one of my friends probably can't get back to sleep either. She was fired yesterday.² And for some reason I can't get the ValuJet crash out of my head...

On May 11, 1996, ValuJet 592 went down in the Florida everglades. On that flight was the son of Warren Lanthem. Warren was the Senior Pastor at Mount Pisgah. I did not know Warren or his son. But understandably it devastated him and eventually led to his decision to transition out of the role of Senior Pastor. Ultimately, Allen assumed that role.

Sometime later, Glenn and Allen went to the Master's golf tournament and they got the idea of starting a talk radio show. It was just crazy enough to work.

In June of 2005, Allen and I sat in Monterrary's Mexican Restaurant. I was a new hire and excited about my job. Amongst other conversation, Allen asked if I wanted to join the radio show "team" to see if we could make this work. I did.

In February 2007 I remember sitting in Allen's F-150 and him saying that he was stepping aside at Mount Pisgah and pursuing the radio show full-time. I was ecstatic.

On October 1, 2007, I stepped out full-time.

And as of April 1, 2008 we had grown to 16 affiliates and a handful more ready to close.

On April 2, 2008, my friend and 10 others were fired from Mount Pisgah due to a "recession" and dwindling Sunday morning attendance.³

Only a self-centered individual like myself could turn a friend's firing back on me, but I have. I don't know if this is because it is the first (of presumed many) friend's getting fired in my life. Or if it is because I too worry about how easy it would be to lose a job. Or maybe because I somehow associate my "success" with her "loss." I don't know. But it got me thinking about my favorite movie In Good Company and what it is like to have to fire someone (warning there are swear words).

What I think sucks the most about all of this is that even in the scene above there is this separation of firing someone who is single and married with a family. As if, somehow it is easier for the single person to take it. After all, they don't have anyone depending on them.

But they also have to go home to an empty bed at night.

They have to do it "alone."

Heck even the terms of the severance illustrates this. As I read it, part of the terms is that you can only share with your spouse, your attorney and financial advisor, and a third situation that would rarely happen. Severance is setup itself to not really allow for the processing of an event like this. So as I (against its terms)⁴ read the letter and tried to advise her on what I thought she needed to do next, I realized just how important our friends are.

I took most of the day off yesterday and just hung out with her. When night came, some other friends joined us, we grilled out and watched baseball on my patio. We talked about the good things and the bad things about our previous place of employment.

We reassured her we all would be there for her in whatever way she needed - including financial support - until she was able to land another job. We are so proud of who she is and how great she did her job. She is in the good company of people who loved and care for her. She, at least, wasn't going through this alone.

(And for the record, there were more than one single girl fired, so anybody who would want to, can't prove who I am talking about here )

Tuesday was opening day for Major League Baseball. The Boston Red Sox played the Oakland A's in Tokyo, Japan. I am stoked! I was so excited, today I decided to get a flex package of season tickets.

So I hoped on Atlanta Braves website and went to town on the games I wanted to attend. What is nice about my schedule is that I don't work on Friday,¹ so I bought a lot of Thursday night tickets.

Any-who...this isn't about buying tickets, it's about great customer service. I realized after purchasing the tickets, I didn't purchase parking passes. So I e-mailed them informing of the slip up and within 3 minutes they called me back with this voicemail:

Now that is customer service! And in under 15 seconds nonetheless. As Justin (who was purchasing tickets with me) put it, "if everybody provided customer service like that, nobody would be unhappy!" I think he is right.

In addition to that. I have heard it rumored from friends that I will be receiving a call from them in February offering me "great deals" for the 2009 season. What great follow-up and care for their customers.

Comcast, Apple Computer, Capital One, AT&T, Washington Mutual, Honda Carland of Roswell, and Cheetah Strip Club² take notice! You could make the world a better place if you just took a lesson from the Braves season ticket office.


And if anybody is interested, here are the games I will be attending!

After I finished the show with Allen on Sunday, I went home, packed, and hit the road at 10:30 pm for Indiana. I made it to 4:15 am - which put me just inside Indiana - before I got tired and pulled over to sleep for a couple of hours in a rest stop. What I love about being on the open road is it gets me to slow down and think about myself and my life. I had one hampering thought this whole trip: am I a workaholic? And not in the sense of like "ohh my gosh, I am such a workaholic," but seriously: am I unhealthily addicted to work the way an alcoholic is addicted to alcohol.

Let's check some of the signs:

• I sleep with my phone within arms reach and ringer on in case I am needed
• The very first thing I do in the morning is check my e-mail
• When I find myself in a conflict, my "comfort food" is going to the office
• I work when friends are over and we are all sitting on the couch
• I worked on Christmas
• (I am sure there are others...but I am drawing a blank)

Part of what has brought this on is I've had a new phenomena in the past two months that I have never experienced before. It takes two hands to count the number of people I know who have been mad/upset with me, because they think I am mad/upset with them, because I haven't been present or attentive. Now lets be honest: there are usually plenty of legitimate reasons to be angry with me. But this was a new one. Of course, I try and explain that this is because of the amount of work I have been doing and how stressed I have been, etc...etc... But this brings us back to the issue: how do we define an unhealthy addiction to work.

Especially within the faith community, I think we need to define addiction. While I was in college, and taking my human sexuality class, we had a discussion on what makes an addiction. For example, pastors seem to label someone who has sex with a boyfriend/girlfriend a sex addict and in need of counseling - even if it is in a monogamous dating relationship. While this may not be moral, it is important to understand this is not an addiction. I can't remember all the litmus elements, and I seemingly have lost my notes on the topic, but I remember that amongst other things, in order for an addiction to be an addiction it has to be something you cannot stop and it is adversely effecting areas outside the addiction (relationships / work / responsibilities / etc).

This is the rub. For example, eating is not usually an addiction because even though you "cannot stop" eating, most eating patterns aren't affecting external areas. But that is where my internal process seemed to hit a road block. Work is a necessity of life. And yes, there are people who "work to live" and people who "live to work." I am in the latter. I would work even if I didn't have to. But how far is too far?

I often "joke" that I am pretty sure I am going to die by 30. The Japanese have a term for this, it is called Karōshi. But it isn't Karōshi I am afraid of. It is the words of professor I had at APU when we went out to lunch at a dinner in Glendora, CA. He looked at me and said, "Andy, the challenge you are going to face in life is having meaningful relationships that aren't connected to your work." That is far worse than dying at 30.

The irony during all of this, as I am driving up I-69 about 45 minutes from home on Christmas Eve, is I get an e-mail on the iPhone. Apparently there is something wrong with the podcast. So I momentarily stop processing my thoughts to troubleshoot an issue in the middle of farmland Indiana using my iPhone. All this to say, I am not sure where I land. I guess I'll keep driving through life, hoping to find a peace.

On Thursday, May 12, 2005 I started my first job out of college at Mount Pisgah United Methodist Church around 8:00 am. On Sunday, September 30, 2007 I left my first job out of college at the same job around 3:45 pm. I left with many lessons learned, many friends, many successes to be proud of, a few failures to be ashamed of, and a huge smile on my face.

When I first moved to Atlanta from Los Angeles, I found myself listening to a Dido CD my brother had left in my car that previous December. Dido will forever bring me back to May of 2005. This morning, as I drove to my last day of my first job, I shuffled the iPod over to Dido to take me back. I found myself listening to Life For Rent.

As I walked out of Mount Pisgah some 9 hours later and hopped in my car, I found myself smiling. But not smiling all real like we do in photos. It was that half smile. That smile you see at the end of movies where the main character is headed off for something fun, something great, something exhilarating, with a sunset, and music is playing in the background. I think if I were in a movie, the song playing in the background would be Life for Rent.

What I love about this song is that it tells of a story where one realizes their life doesn't belong to them. The songwriter realizes that since their life doesn't belong to them, this should have a profound impact on their decisions. And in classic Robert Frost style, realizing that my life is for rent has made all the difference.

My life doesn't belong to me, it belongs to God. Sounds cheesy enough, but it is true. This lifespan, while short, is only a glimpse of eternity. This is profound because it both speaks to the urgency of life and at the same time the meaninglessness of life. I think it is this realization that allows for Solomon to lament in Ecclesiastics about the meaningless of life but at the same time have him write in Song of Solomon about the fullness and passion found in life.

As I enter into a little of the unknown, I take solace in a God who has watched over me for years and has directed my paths better than I could have ever imagined. It is scary, exciting, overwhelming, fun, and most of all full. And that is what I have realized; first at APU, and now as I leave Mount Pisgah. I will take a full life that doesn't belong to me but belongs to my Creator any day over a life I own but comes up empty.

PS - Yes I know I look super cheesy in the photo. I took this photo of myself on my first day of work. I had no friends. I knew no one. I didn't even have a bed. I will always love this photo.

This past Thursday (September 27, 2007) was Molly's 22nd birthday. We went to The Melting Pot in Birmingham, Alabama. I have never paid so much money to cook my own food. But it was a really, really fun time and the company was breathtakingly beautiful - and you can't beat that combination.

Amidst the conversation, she mentioned to me that she had never had a boyfriend on her birthday before. This didn't really come as a shock given that while I had never thought about this fact, I knew it to be true. But then it got me thinking, out of the 9 previous relationships I have been in, I have never been in a relationship on my girlfriend's birthday. I got close once (even had the gift bought and everything), but we broke up a couple of weeks before (and yes I still gave her the gift). I verbalized this to Molly, expressed that it was actually kind of fun to have a girlfriend on her birthday (doing the whole planning thing, buying the present*, etc..etc...) and then we moved on to something else.

But it was driving home from Birmingham that got me thinking about firsts. This last month and upcoming week have been some huge firsts for me in my life. It was the first time I ever went out to eat with a girlfriend's family, without the girlfriend being with us. It was the first time I left a "real-world" job - one that I had since graduation (I'll blog about it later). It is probably going to the be first time I ever make an offer on a house (sidenote: everybody pray that goes well).

I think it is firsts in life that make life scary & fulfilling all at the same time. Many times I find myself faced with the temptation to avoid firsts. Some firsts are challenging and stressful (*cough* buying a first home). Others are exhilarating and fresh. But all force us to grow. All force us to wake up in the morning and realize that life will not stay the same - no matter how much we enjoy its security. We can either take these firsts head on and make them our own, or we can let these firsts happen to us out of fear and nervousness. Either way the firsts come, the question is what do we do with them?

*For those of you out there that stopped reading after my comment about the gift, here ya go. I got her this rug from Vera Bradley. Now, most people react (including some of her friends) with a look of disgust that I bought her a rug for her birthday. Now hold on. We were driving back from the lake in the middle of August and she was thumbing through an InStyle Magazine and she commented on how she liked the rug. Then, when I was in Fort Wayne (home of Vera Bradley), I swung by the Vera Bradley store and picked it out. Worried that I had the wrong one, I actually drove to Wal-Mart in Huntington to purchase the InStyle Magazine (yeah that didn't make me look gay or anything). Then, realizing I couldn't find the rug (I had the wrong issue), I made a second trip to the Vera Bradley store and went with something that I knew wasn't the one she pointed out, but that matched her room. Thus, the story of her present is complete.

I did something this week that I have only done three other times since graduating college: I took a full, 2-day weekend. I have worked 6-days a week 108 of my 111 weeks of employment (except vacation). I am not complaining about this. But this 4th 2-day weekend got me thinking about why I don't take more of them. And then that brought me to the realization that I think Jesus probably pissed off a lot of people sometimes. Why? Because he wasn't afraid of "wolf criers."

I have two people I work with that are awful wolf criers (you know, as in the boy who cried wolf). But instead of crying about a wolf, they come to me with projects that are usually last minute and always an emergency, with the tone that their department is more important than everything else going on (even though the "Worship" department is what is always tasked as what is most important). I'll spare the details. But sure enough, at the end of this week, I had another wolf-crying session from one of the two and it got me thinking about Jesus.

Jesus wasn't afraid of "wolf criers." I think a passage in Mark sums this up the best:

Mark 1:35-39 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37and when they found him, they exclaimed: "Everyone is looking for you!" 38Jesus replied, "Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come." 39So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

Now a little context. Jesus had just got done healing many people in Capernaum. So, naturally, when people caught wind of this, everyone who was sick came to him. Pretty noble right? I mean, healing people is way more important than producing a video. Yet Jesus "figuratively" stares them in the face, in all their pain, and says, I have better things to do (including rest) and I am sorry, but I need to stick to that.

Jesus knew two things: 1.) what His mission was, and 2.) that He, being fully man, was limited by time and energy to meet the expectations of everyone. These are two things I am not sure I am good at. I do think I am better at #1 than I am at #2, but it doesn't matter if I know what my purpose is, yet fail to hold to it. I can't blame people for coming and asking. I can really only blame myself for being more concerned with what they think of me over what my purpose is.

I am sorry I haven't been posting very much, it has been some crazy days here in Georgia. I won't go into all the boring details, but last night I directed a Michael W. Smith concert and it was awesome.

Now I know what you are thinking: Michael W. Smith, that guy is so lame. And to some degree I would agree with you. He is a little dated (heck, his songs remind me of Freshman year of high school). And frankly, as far as concerts go, it was pretty "lackluster." But from a video director perspective, it was one of the best events I have ever done - and that made it rockin' for me.

Now I have been quoted as saying that one thing I love about worship is that it goes beyond music. And frankly, there are few times I feel closer to God than when I am working (probably only behind playing with Jadyn and traveling). But what I usually mean by that, is that there are moments where I look at something and I realize something fits just so unbelievably perfect, and it was so accidental, but still so perfect, that it had to be the hand of God. It are these moments where I truly feel a part of a father/son relationship with God. Just as a father and son might build something together, there are many times where I feel I am "building" something together with God.

Last night was by far an event that had the most amount of these moments. Athletes refer to these moments as being in the "Zone". I never describe it like that. I describe it more as a partnership. These times are just some "zone" I happen to have stepped into by accident or luck, it is a partnership with the Creator of the Universe, working together, and having a blast doing it.

I needed this too. April/May has been an awful month for me. As my friend Kyle puts it, it was coming at all sides: family, work, personal. It isn't that things are awful, it's just one of those times where you need some good alone time with your Heavenly Father, and working more hours sure as heck doesn't give you that. But this event did, and for that I am grateful.

I have had other "major" events in my short career (Mel Gibson & Lee Strobel Passion of the Christ, etc... ), but this by far was the best. It was a close to perfect as possible, I just wish it was with someone who could have really "rocked the house" (like the Jeremy Camp concert I get to direct in October).

Last week marked the launch of (to my understanding) the first "anti-Allen Hunt Show Website" (aka AllenHuntShowSucks.com). Some might be worried. Some might be offended (can you imagine creating a "Your-Pastors-Name-Sucks.com"). But not me, I love it!

The guy who put this site together is named Erik, and he lives in Athens (for those of you outside of Georgia, Athens is like Bloomington, IN or well I don't have a good California reference for it). He first contacted us with the email address allenhuntsucks@"a-certain-domain-that-I-won't-mention".com - Since then, I have probably shared about 30 or so e-mails with the guy, and I even gave his name to a reporter who asked me if we have had any critics. He is quoted alongside myself and Allen in an upcoming article to (hopefully) be published in Talkers Magazine. He is to some sorts a nemesis. But he's not a nemesis like that bratty girl in high school was because she stole your boyfriend. No, this nemesis is more like Dr Xavier and Magneto in X-Men (yeah I know I am a nerd). It's a nemesis I at least respect. A nemesis I enjoy conversation with. A nemesis that I think in the end could have big impact on both of our lives. So again, I love this stuff.

Why? A few reasons. First, as always, I like to assume faith doesn't exist (which it does). But even with out a faith perspective this is great because it is great press. Someone once said there is no such thing as bad press. And the more I work in the media, the more I think that is true.

Second, I love the fact that Erik hates our show, yet he listens all the time. I know he listens because he e-mails me all the time to tell me what we are doing wrong. There is something amusing to me about a guy who hates us, yet is either a.) entertained enough to listen, b.) intellectually stimulated enough to listen, c.) both, or d.) bored enough to make it his life goal to dispute us.

Third, and this is where faith comes back in, I think it is sad that Christians usually disengage from those they disagree with (when was the last time you saw Pat Robertson engage in a meaningful conversation with Planned Parenthood, or Jerry Falwell engage in a conversation with Nancy Pelosi). How truly sad. What message does that send. It basically says that as Christians, we claim to believe in "the Truth," but we are so insecure about it we won't engage with anyone who might point out "it is a lie."

My fourth reason is that people like Erik are exactly the type of people we want listening. We are not James Dobson. We do not have a radio show simply so we can pow-wow together as Christians and talk about how great we are and how politically powerful we must be in order to keep marriage intact and baby's popping out. Life change does not come from arguing. It comes from respect. It comes from honor. It comes from discussion. And it comes from the Holy Spirit. None of which are a simple, 10-minute, do you want to accept Jesus as your personal Savior type of interaction. Patience is key. And even if Erik "never comes around," the discussion will be a lot of fun, and there is no way that sucks at all.