What would you do differently if you were 18 years old again, but knew all you do now?

Last night, I dreamt that I "woke up" and I was 18 years old again, back in the middle of my senior year of high school. But I remembered everything that happened in my life from then until now. It was like I had traveled back in time, but I was in my high school body.

It was an unusually long and vivid dream, full of rich details. I saw clothing styles I'd forgotten about. I saw people I hadn't thought of in years and years. I distinctly remember having a hard time not laughing at the music being played. Everyone thought it was so cool, but it felt pretty cheesy to me, with my future-knowledge of how music would progress.

But though everyone else was the same, I remembered all I'd done and learned in the nearly twenty years since I was in high school. And my mind was racing with all the things I could do differently, that I could do better. I thought of investments I could make that could set me up for life financially. I thought of people I wanted to seek out and befriend, knowing how important they were going to be to me eventually (like my wife). And I thought of projects I could start, like my books and even organizations I could start. I even thought about how I ate back then and how much healthier I could be if I started seriously caring for my body while it was in still in top shape, rather than playing catch up like I am now.

I then actually woke up, in the present day, with my wife and kids still asleep, my heart pounding with excitement and wonder. Such a rich, realistic dream! And in that loaded moment I felt God whisper to my heart, "What if you had lived another twenty years, into your late fifties, and had just woken up now? What lessons would you from your future self wish you could apply today? What would he tell you to do differently?"

Almost immediately, I imagined three things I would do differently:

• I'd stop making poor late night eating decisions. I tend to be very healthy all day long, and then break down around 9-10pm and have unhealthy desserts. Not every day at all, but far too many days.
• I'd be more creative on how I engage with my young children. This season of life is going to pass quickly and it's too easy to go with the flow and just bum around the house or yard with them. There are stories and games and projects we could do that would make our time much richer.
• I'd discipline myself to write more regularly. In the busyness of life, I have taken a bonus, might-not-get-to-it approach. I can't write every day, with my current constraints. But I can write more than I have been.

What do you imagine the wiser you from your future would say to you? What if we took that "advice" and made a huge leap how wisely we lived right now? Why wait twenty years?

False Questions (Grammatically Correct & Relationally Wrong)

Uninvited advice comes across like judgment. When people are sharing problems with their loved ones, they may ask for advice. But many times they just want to share. And instead of just listening, we jump in with our advice. Instead, ask good questions. (See my earlier post on this for more on advice & questions.)

But not all questions are real questions. Beware of using false questions and thinking you're doing well in the conversation. I'm not talking about rules grammar--I'm talking about how they function in a conversation. Some questions meet the grammatical requirements, but behave like giving advice. The person asking the false question is clever enough to phrase their advice in the form of a question--but they're still giving advice.

 For the purposes of helping people think better, these questions don't count. They still feel like judgment.

EXAMPLES:

False Question: Have you thought about talking to your boss?

Translation: You should talk to your boss.

Changed to open question (advice removed): What options have you considered?

False Question: What if you just chalked this one up to experience and started over?

Translation: You should just start over.

Changed to open question (advice removed): What can you learn from this situation?

Even when it is time to offer advice, using insightful, open questions to get them to create the solution themselves helps far better than you just telling them. (See my previous post for more on asking open questions.)  Let's say you do have the right solution in mind (which is not a guarantee). If they actually do what you say (also not guaranteed), they won't really own those choices. They'll always see them as the advice of someone else and not their own ideas. Further, they'll become more dependent on you to solve their problems, instead of learning to solve their own. Use (real) questions in place of advice and watch your influence and impact grow exponentially. (I've tried both methods for years--there's no comparison.)

Your Great Advice Ignored (How To Avoid This)

Unsolicited advice is received as judgment.

I know, you're just trying to help. And you probably have really good advice.

But if they haven't asked for your advice, then your attempt to share it--even when it's helpful--makes the other person feel judged. There may be moments in someone's life that requires a forceful intervention experience--where you don't wait for them to ask. But think about the times you've offered advice before they've asked. Are they thanking you? Are they even doing what you recommended?

Think about your own experiences. When someone surprises you with advice, how do you feel? Sure, if you've asked for it, it doesn't bother you at all. Or if you've set up a friendship that has a standing request for advice to be shared, then it's no big deal. But if you're not looking for it, your advice giving can make them feel as if they're supposed to live their life the way you want--that you have the answers and they don't. The likelihood of them following the advice is very low.

Advice rejected not only wastes time, but costs your relationship.

So are we just supposed to sit back and watch our friends make mistakes, saying nothing? Doesn't being a good friend mean pointing out errors? Does choosing silence mean condoning their actions?

I'm not saying no giving advice ever. I'm saying only offer advice where advice is wanted.

God doesn't overload us with all that we're doing wrong. How he approaches the problems in my life--and everyone I've ever asked about this--reveals His tremendous restraint. Though there are probably 10,000 areas I need to improve, He's usually only pressing on 1-3 at a time. And when I deal with those, we move on to the next. Year after year, as I grow, I discover more areas that I had no idea were problems.

If God, who has more than earned the right to speak in my life, does not point out everything I'm doing wrong when I do it, then I can learn the same restraint and speak only when invited to--by the other person or by the Holy Spirit.

There may be time when you do need to speak up anyway, though. The bigger the consequences, the greater the chance you should propose your advice without invitation. If their entire life (or someone else's life) is on the line, you should offer your input no matter what. But as you reduce the impact, you stop needed to offer the advice.

I don't have a hard rule on where the cutoff point is--when you sit back vs. speak up. It depends on the kind of relationship you have, the maturity of the person, the size of the consequences, what God may be telling you, and the emotional state that you and the other person is in. But when in doubt, be a little more restrained than aggressive. The respect you show through restraint will earn you the invitations to offer your advice much more than jumping at every chance to show that you know what they should do.

And then your advice will be received and actually make a difference.