“. . . seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.”  Matthew 6:33 

One of the great challenges we faced working on a bond trading desk in the Wall Street world, as I did for thirty years, was the urgency of everything.  Phones rang non-stop during trading hours and every one of those calls was something urgent.  While in one sense the high level of activity was energizing and exciting (one never lacked for something to do).  On the other hand – and this was the challenging part – it was easy to get caught up in the frenzy – the urgency – and lose sight of the greater purpose, the mission and goals of the business.

Among his countless nuggets of wisdom the late management guru of the twentieth century, the great Peter Drucker, emphasized the importance of making the “important” rather than the “urgent” our priority in life.  But like most of us he struggled with it too.  “If I look back,” he once lamented, “my greatest frustrations are probably, in retrospect, this is hindsight, that I have, far too often, made the urgent rather than the important my priority and that as a result, some of the books I should have written I haven’t written.  And I have written books that were urgent, or I have taught the things that they needed at the moment rather than the things that were needed five years since.  I have been willing to run shorter rather than long-term.”

It’s a tough call because urgent matters do matter, but they should never be allowed to cause us to lose sight of the greater purpose and the longer-term mission.  That is why clear concise mission and vision statements are so critical for organizations and that that mission and vision be instilled in the organization’s culture.  Thus, the most successful organizations over the long haul are those who do.

Jesus himself reminded us that we should first seek God’s kingdom – the “important” – then deal with the other matters of life – the “urgent”.  By doing so we guard ourselves from being caught up in the frenzy of the urgent; or as Drucker put it, we must make the “important” rather than the “urgent” our priority in life.

“My son, do not forget my teaching . . .”   –  Proverbs 3:1 

“A father, being on the point of death, wished to be sure that his sons would give the same attention to his farm as he himself had given it.  He called them to his bedside and said, ‘My sons, there is a great treasure hid in one of my vineyards.’  The sons, after his death, took their spades and mattocks and carefully dug over every portion of their land.  They found no treasure, but the vines repaid their labor by an extraordinary and superabundant crop.”  – from Aesop’s fables 

Knowledge is a good thing.  But there is a vast difference between “knowledge” (having the facts) and “wisdom” (applying those facts to life).  In other words, we may amass knowledge, but without wisdom, our knowledge is useless.  We must learn to “live out” what we know.  The father in the fable understood the facts of farming, in particular that vigorous tilling of the soil in the vineyards would produce an abundant harvest, but it was only through his wisdom that he was able to convey this knowledge to his sons in such a way that they in turn would “live it out” and perpetuate his legacy.

“Wise refers to skill in living,” explains Eugene Peterson in his book Earth and Altar.  “It does not mean, primarily, the person who knows the right answers to things but one who has developed the right responses (relationships) to persons, to God.  The wise understand how the world works; know about patience and love, listening and grace, adoration and beauty; know that other people are awesome creatures to be respected and befriended . . . know that God is an ever present center, a never-diminishing reality, an all encompassing love . . .”

We are often encouraged to be life-long learners, and rightly so.  But more importantly we should strive to become life-long seekers of wisdom – in how to “live out” the knowledge we attain with greater understanding and deeper meaning.

“My sons, there is a great treasure hid in one of my vineyards.”  (Aesop’s fables) “My son, do not forget my teaching, but keep my commands in your heart, for they will prolong your life for many years and bring you prosperity,” says the Proverb.  Wisdom is that great treasure, but to gain it we must seek it out, and be alert when it appears.

“. . . a tree is recognized by its fruit.”  – Matthew 12:33 

The lovely home of my wife’s maternal grandparents, Cecil and Virginia Dye, was surrounded on every side by enormous shade trees, notably all pecan trees.  The tallest and most stately among them, so her grandfather claimed, had sprouted from a single pecan he had once dropped into a hole he had poked in the ground with a screwdriver many years ago, while making a bet with a neighbor whether it would grow or not.  (He won the bet!)  Each fall almost without fail, those pecan trees would produce a bountiful crop of nuts which they would gather, shell, and package as Christmas gifts for loved ones among whom we were recipients.  It was a labor of love on their part, and so typical of their generous hearts that were as big as the trees themselves.

Once I recall wandering about in the yard beneath those trees with Cecil picking up pecans here and there when he made a remark I have never forgotten.  “I have always believed,” he said, “that if you are going to plant trees in your yard, they should be trees that produce something.”  Of course he would think that way, I recall thinking, since he was born and raised on a farm where every square inch of soil was for the purpose of producing something.  So, I understood and appreciated the logic behind his remark.

With that conversation filed away in my memory, years passed.  Eventually, I had the opportunity to retire from my corporate career and pursue a new profession.  It had been suggested that in preparing for that new season of life I should write a personal mission statement to guide my life and work going forward, which turned out to be much more difficult than I had ever imagined; that is, until I happened upon this verse from John 15:16 where Jesus said, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.”  There it was, my mission statement, “bear fruit – fruit that will last.”  All at once that conversation about “planting trees that produce something” sprang from my memory, and I realized that wise philosopher Cecil Dye in his gentle way was teaching me much more about life than he was about trees.

Hasn’t it been God’s plan from the very beginning when He created mankind in his own image?  His instructions were clear, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.” (Genesis 1:28).  For, “a tree is recognized by its fruit.”  As are we.

“Let us not become weary in doing good . . .” – Galatians 6:9 

What had started out as a delightful morning suddenly came to a screeching halt, followed by several hours in the emergency room and eighteen painful stitches in her upper lip.  It happened several years ago when my wife Tee went out for her early morning jog.  Being both a nature lover and a fitness buff, she was loving the moment; that is, until she crossed a wooden footbridge that, unknown to her, had become slick from an early morning dew causing her to slip.  As accidents often do, it happened so fast that she had no time to catch herself as she landed face down on the asphalt, her upper lip receiving the brunt of the damage.  There she lay alone – traumatized, bleeding, and a mile-and-a-half from home – when out of nowhere appeared a stranger who came to her aid.  The lady helped her get back on her feet, tended to her wounds as best she could, then assisted her in getting safely back home.

Funny thing is we are on that trail several times a week and have become acquainted with most of the regular walkers and joggers, many by name.  But this was someone we had never seen before.  And being traumatized as she was Tee could not remember the name of her Good Samaritan nor how to get in touch to express her gratitude.  “Maybe I’ll see her again on the trail,” she had hoped, but that has yet to happen.

As with most good people, that lady did not do a good deed in order to receive recognition.  She did it quietly, anonymously, and selflessly because she is a caring and compassionate person, a good human being who has love and respect for her neighbors.

Having read Man’s Search for Meaning several times, Dr. Viktor Frankl’s reflections on his experiences as a prisoner in the Nazi concentration camps during the Holocaust, what most inspires me is how the prisoners, under the most horrendous of inhumane circumstances, cared for one another in the face of hopelessness and death.  And even as thousands of such stories have been told and recorded by survivors, I suspect they are but a fraction of those that remain anonymous or buried with its victims.  “Let us not become weary in doing good,” the Apostle Paul wrote to the Galatians, “for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”  While selfishness, greed, and evil may exist all around, it is those selfless souls quietly doing good, they keep humanity knit together.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come?”  Psalm 121 

For the most part I’m a pretty sore loser.  That’s not to say I am ungracious about it, it’s just that I don’t like losing.  So, what’s wrong with that, you ask, shouldn’t we all strive to win?  Of course we should, except in my case I dislike losing so much that sometimes I refuse to compete if it appears the odds are stacked against me.  If it doesn’t look like I’ve got a fighting chance I just don’t play.

Now, that’s probably smart when it comes to things such as investing in the stock market; after all, who in his right mind would buy a stock believing it never had a chance of going up?  No, when we invest in the stock market we do so believing the odds are that our stocks will appreciate.  But let me ask you, have you ever taken on a challenge where logic says you have no chance to win, yet even under the slimmest odds you did it anyway because it was so worthwhile, or you simply felt called to do so?  To be that undaunted in the face of probable failure requires conviction and courage, doesn’t it?

Here’s the point.  Sooner or later each of us is going to be blindsided with some sort of overwhelming challenge.  Disaster will strike, a crisis will emerge, and we will find ourselves face to face with Goliath – a giant twice our size.  So why not pick a few insurmountable challenges of our own rather than waiting for fate to choose for us – things that matter, that make a difference, that make the world a better place?  Ask yourself these three questions.  What are my dreams that seem out of reach?  What passions do I keep locked away?  What footprints do I want to leave behind from my walk on this earth?  How you answer these questions will determine which insurmountable challenges are worth taking on.

So, then the question of courage arises, from where is it to come?  The psalmist wrestled with the same question.  “I lift my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come?” he asked. Then he answered his own question, “My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.”  Our courage can be found there, too.  Believe it – then get in the game!