Accountability. Is this a word only masochists love? My friend Andrea’s eyes freakishly sparkle when she talks about wanting accountability to be a major component of her small group. It reminds me of the way my friend Melissa’s face contorts with joy when thrusters are part of the workout. What’s wrong with these people? For me, the word accountability (and thrusters) makes me want to climb into a death hole.
By my way of thinking, accountability carries such a heavy load–heavier than 45-pound plates on a bar for thrusters. It carries a weight of shame.
How did shame and accountability get entangled in my mind? It goes way, way back:
I’m in my tiny desk in the dank basement where I attended my earliest years of school. In my grasp is a navy pencil, fat with shiny lead that tore the lined newsprint sheets. Hovering over my shoulder is a teacher enshrouded in the acrid aura of burnt coffee and strong cough drops. I hear her crisp comment to the class as she assesses our handwriting practice, “I wish I could hook up electrodes that would give you a shock when your pencils went outside the lines.” (!)
To this day a thrill of fear runs through me when I jot down a quick note in a sloppy hand, say, when I’m on the phone and capturing a rattled-off confirmation number. What if I were to die and my first grade teacher were to witness my tragic penmanship? The horror!
But my aversion to accountability runs much deeper than idle childhood threats. It goes to the core of my soul, my natural bent that seeks to cast off the heavy mantle of responsibility, of being called on the carpet to explain myself and my actions when asked–especially when I’ve penciled outside the lines. My inclination is to run and hide like my spiritual ancestors who ducked behind fig leaves to cover their nakedness and shame.
For me, expectancy does not carry the same burden as accountability—not even close.
Whereas accountability scowls with crossed arms and impatient weight-shifting, expectancy is light, eager, already laughing in anticipation of the punchline.
Think of a baby shower. We call people about to have a baby expectant parents not accountable couples. Do we throw a baby shower to take the mother-to-be to task? To make sure she’s toeing the line? “You are accountable for producing an heir. We best see results!” Or, are we sharing in the joy of the miracle God is going to do by knitting together new life within her womb? Therein lies another difference:
With accountability, the workload lies on my shoulders whereas expectancy anticipates the handiwork of God.
My sister and I had precious few cassette recordings growing up. Our most prized tape was The Go-Go’s Beauty and the Beat, and we played it until the B-side melted into the A-side. Another one we played over and over was a kids’ album of worship songs. To this day, “I anticipate the inevitable, supernatural intervention of God—I expect a miracle,” is burned into our brains every bit as much as, “We Got the Beat.” Aside from the fact that the songwriters slam 400% more polysyllabic words into one line of lyrics than all other kids’ songs combined, they define what it means to expect a miracle—without the finger-crossing and sending of good vibes into the universe popularly associated with the word.
But don’t let me wriggle off the hook of accountability under a guise of spiritualizing expectancy. Because Lord knows I need both.
We all need both accountability and expectancy because we have each been entrusted with gifts, talents and ideas.
Let’s say you have an idea to start a hydroponic garden or learn to speak Mandarin. You know yourself. You’ve had good ideas before that have fizzled out before they’ve started. Your friend knows you. She might ask, “Is this something you really want?” And before you can stop yourself, you say, “Yes! I’m all in. I’m really going to do it this time. When we get together next week, I want you to ask me for a progress report.” This is accountability.
Now flip the script. What if your friend listens to your idea to garden or speak Mandarin and says, “I can tell this has lit a fire in your belly. I can’t wait to see what God does with your idea this week. I’m going to follow up and ask you about it because I know how doubt can set in – especially when we hit obstacles. Let’s pray it up between now and then.” This is expectancy.
Here’s the thing: Either scenario is great! Both words have their merits. Does it really matter what you call it? What matters is that the idea doesn’t get lost, lose momentum, and get jettisoned before it’s begun its sacred voyage. What matters is that you have been blessed with a friend who sees the potential in you and your idea.
If you saw the 1986 film Stand By Me, you’ll recall River Phoenix’s character, Chris Chambers, a kid from an abusive family who was endowed with wisdom beyond his adolescent years. It was Chris Chambers who saw the potential in his friend Gordie LaChance (Wil Wheaton):
“It’s like God gave you something, man. All those stories that you can make up. And He said, ‘This is what we got for you, kid. Try not to lose it.’ But kids lose everything unless there’s someone there to look after them. And if you’re parents are too [messed] up to do it, then maybe I should.”
And just like that Chris became Gordie’s ad hoc accountability partner.
Accountability is born of necessity when the cost of losing a gift, talent, or idea outweighs the uncomfortable friction of being held accountable.
If you can’t see the importance of your gift or calling, thank God for friends who can.
You might not have a Chris Chambers in your life right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find an expectancy/accountability partner. Having a friend you meet for coffee might be your reality during this time, but it might not. Your reality could look more like joining a Facebook group dedicated to your specific passion and finding someone to Zoom work times. It sounded weird to me at first, too. You set up a Zoom call, say hi, and get to work for the allotted amount of time. My physical therapist friend Christine works out with her buddy on FaceTime to ensure they stick to their fitness goals. So smart! My daughter Eva has a journaling partner with whom she’s exchanged snaps of daily entries for the past four summers. They don’t miss a day. Genius!
We’d like to think that just because we know something is good to do or good for us, we’ll go through with it. But resistance is real. Obstacles are real. However, if we know someone is counting on us to show up, we are much more likely to do the thing we wanted to do in the first place.
To bring it close to home, the main reason I am writing today is that I have a standing weekly appointment tonight to chat with T, my big sister. T is going to ask me how my latest blog post has progressed since last week. Now, I could come up with a laundry list of justifications—true and compelling reasons for not writing: we had a family birthday, refinanced our mortgage, volunteered at church, took advantage of a free hotel stay with our family, and literally, needed to do the laundry. T is off-the-charts when it comes to empathy, and she would respond with “mmm-hmm” and “uh-huh” in comforting and appropriate ways, I am sure. I am certain that’s how she’d respond because that’s what she did last week when I hadn’t made any significant progress. Then she gently poked and prodded. T would not let the seed of the idea die after germination. She painted a landscape without words of hope, choked by weeds of fear and despair, and she made it positively unconscionable to not water the seedling I had started. My sister is an amazing idea-birthing coach, and it’s taken me forty years to fully appreciate that about her.
I hope the irony is not lost that I need an accountability partner to write on the topic of accountability.
I continue to refine and edit my work because I volunteered to show it to a trusted circle of friends in the morning. I made myself accountable, and they responded with joy on par with expectant grandparents. If you ever wondered why the “Acknowledgements” section in a book is so long, this is why:
We remember and treasure the people who love us enough to hold us accountable and hold space with us in eager expectation of what God is going to do.
Whether you have a friend like Chris Chambers, a virtual accountabili-buddy, or a sister like mine, you have a world that desperately needs your unique gifting. I can’t wait to see what God does with it. I anticipate His handiwork, and I applaud with the angels when you fight the resistance to use the gift that’s been entrusted to you. I expect a miracle.
“Write it. Shoot it. Publish it. Engrave it. Paint it, whatever. MAKE.”
Joss Whedon
Bonus: Next Steps if You Need to Get Started TODAY
Are you blocked? Stumped? Dead in the water? Do you have an idea-baby stuck in the birth canal and you’ve lost the energy to push? Then set aside two hours. Use one hour to listen to the introduction and first chapter of a book that comes out on March 11, 2020: The Lazy Genius Way by Kendra Adachi. She’s giving this content away for free on her podcast, The Lazy Genius. Full disclosure: I don’t know her from Adam, but she clearly knows me. As a recovering perfectionist herself, she deeply understands how the pendulum swings between frenzied activity and apathetic lethargy. She will thaw you out of your frozen state of fear and kindle a flame for your calling. In short, she’s your big sister poking you when you need it the most. Set aside the hour after listening because I guarantee you that you’ll want to throw yourself headlong into your passion project. Happy birthday to your idea!