Spinning Plates

Today I went to the CFISD Rigor, Relevance, and Relationships workshop for school administrators. The last session of the day was called "Capturing Your Moments" presented by Dr. Eric Cupp. I would consider Dr. Cupp a motivational speaker more than anything else (compared to most presenters at the conference who focus on improving classroom instruction, school culture, etc), but he offered an analogy that brought conviction on my heart. Here is his analogy (paraphrased):

You guys know those guys who spin plates?  They used to come by with the circus, and every once in a while do a performance on the Ed Sullivan show or Johnny Carson.  Here's the act:  This guy will stand a dow rod vertically, put a plate on it and spin it.  Everyone always thinks that there is some sort of indention on the plate that keeps it there, but there's not.  The audience is mildly entertained and politely gives the gentleman a golf clap.  Before you know it, this guy has 24 plates spinning on dow rods high and low and he's sweating profusely, sliding all over the floor to attend to "wobbly" plates.  There's a wobbly plate over there!  Guy runs, slides, and gets the plate spinning again, just to look up and there's another plate wobbling, and the guy does the same thing over and over again until he removes all the plates from the dow rods.  The show closes as an exhausted, sweaty performer presents a stack of 24 unbroken plates.  The crowd now a little more enthusiastically gives the gentleman a nice clap.  The issue I have with this guy is that he's running all over the place, spinning plates, sweating, working hard, and what did he accomplish?  Other than providing some cheap entertainment at the circus or on publicly broadcasted television - he accomplished nothing.  When all 24 of the plates were spinning, not one was spinning well (or to its full capacity).  A plate spun best when it was only one spinning and the performer was able to focus all his time and attention on that one plate.

Here's your take-a-way, and of course my conviction.  At work, and more specifically, in my life, I'm spinning too many plates.  And honestly, I'm ashamed to say that my family are the ones that suffer the most.  My wife and my kids are the plates that I don't attend to until I see them about to wobble off the dow rod - I run over, spend some money, maybe invest a little time, get them spinning again, and sprint away to tend to the "more important" plates in my life.  Every dad and husband says that his family is the most important thing to him.  In my case, however, actions speak louder than words, and I'm communicating non-verbally that the plates that are my family are not that important to me, they're not precious plates, they're not that valuable.  God has blessed me with an amazing family, he has charged me with leading and loving my family like Christ loved the church - and I am failing miserably.  Something's got to give, something's got to change.  Therefore, I am issuing a challenge for myself and each one of you:

1.) Prioritize every plate you are spinning.
2.) Eliminate plates that accomplish nothing.
3.) Evaluate your "act", do you spend too much time on plates of little value and vice versa?
4.) And most importantly, make a plan to reconfigure your performance to match up with your priorities.

Everyone one of us has a plate spinning act - at the end of your life will the audience say, "Well done, good and faithful servant"?  (The Parable of the Talents)