“Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’, and your ‘No’, ‘No’.”  – Matthew 5:37 

For almost thirty years Jerry and I were the closest of friends.  We talked daily during the business week sharing information and ideas, and almost always having a few laughs.  Although we were in the same business we never worked together, in fact we were competitors – at least the companies we worked for were competitors, and bitter ones at that.  Yet, we were constantly engaged as partners in joint endeavors.  It was a great relationship; we were both like-minded and trusted each other without question, to the extent that in the absence of one of us the other had total authority to make decisions regarding the partnership.  In other words – now think about this!! – he had authority to make decisions on my behalf about my firm’s capital, and I had authority from him to do the same.  In all those thirty years not once did we have an argument, disagreement, or misunderstanding.  It was a relationship not bound by legal documents but rather by trust between two honest gentlemen.  We simply let our “Yes” be “Yes”, and our “No”, “No”; and it worked without a glitch – for thirty years.

Establishing trust is not complicated.  It is simply requires telling the truth and doing what we say we’re going to do.  Why then do we trust so little?  Why, when we listen to all the political promises being made during this election season, are we so skeptical?  Why must every contract, agreement, or major transaction require reams of legal documents?  Why are relationships like Jerry and I had all those years so rare, the exception rather than the rule?   Why is trust between one human being and another so often violated?  I wonder, for trust is one of the most powerful assets one can ever attain in business and in life.

“Establishing trust” is listed as one of the top core competencies for executive coaching by the International Coach Federation (ICF).  Understandably so, because only by trusting can one person communicate openly and freely with another, which is essential for a coaching relationship to be effective.  I’m grateful for my old friend Jerry who exposed me to the meaning and power of trust.  For us it became second nature, “Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’, and your ‘No’, ‘No’.”

“A man’s wisdom gives him patience . . .”  – Proverbs 19:11

An old farmer once hired a buddy and me as day laborers to help haul some freshly baled hay from his field.  Our instructions were to walk alongside the trailer he was pulling behind his tractor around the field and load the hay bales onto the trailer.  From there we would go and stack the hay in his barn.  We were young and strong back then, so the problem we had was that the old farmer moved too slowly for us as we were capable of working at a much faster the pace.  Nevertheless, he continued to putter along at his own speed and we dutifully complied.  And guess what?  By the end of the day the field had been cleared, the hay neatly stacked in the barn, and we happily accepted our wages.

Why was it that when I was young time seemed so scarce, even though I had a lifetime in front of me, all the time in the world?  I always felt in a hurry, never enough time.  But as I’ve grown older, even realizing my days are becoming fewer, time does not seem so important, almost even irrelevant.  Why?  Maybe I learned a great lesson from that old farmer who never seemed to get in a hurry, that at the end of the day everything will get done.  Recently I came across a poem printed years ago in McGuffey’s Reader, ironically a book of the same vintage that would likely have coincided with the old farmer’s school days.  The poem went like this:

“The fisher who draws in his net too soon,

Won’t have any fish to sell;

The child who shuts up his book too soon,

Won’t learn any lessons well.

If you would have your learning stay,

Be patient – don’t learn too fast;

The man who travels a mile a day,

May get ‘round the world at last.”

Given the choice to either be young and strong like I was back then or have the wisdom of that old farmer, from what I know now I’d choose wisdom every time; for among other things, “A man’s wisdom gives him patience . . .”

“The lowly will be exalted and the exalted will be brought low.”  – Ezekiel 21:26 

Charlie Plumb was a fighter pilot in the U.S Navy when on his seventy-fifth combat mission his plane was shot down over North Vietnam.  Able to eject, Plumb parachuted safely to the ground only to be captured by the North Vietnamese, after which he spent the next six years as a prisoner of war in a solitary eight-by-eight cell where he was constantly subjected to interrogation, torture and beatings.

Several years following his release, Plumb happened to be sitting in a restaurant one evening when he noticed a gentleman staring at him.  Eventually the man came over to Plumb’s table.  Your name’s Plumb, he said.  Plumb acknowledged he was.  You were a fighter pilot in the Navy, the man continued, on the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk.  Later you were shot down over North Vietnam and captured.  All true, Plumb confirmed, but how did he know all that, he asked?  “I packed your parachute,” replied the stranger.

Overwhelmed with humility, Plumb wondered how many times he had passed by that young sailor aboard the Kitty Hawk never once even acknowledging his existence.  Why would he, after all?  Plumb, you see, was an officer in the United States Navy, a fighter pilot, and a distinguished graduate of the U.S. Navel Academy.  That young sailor was just a lowly enlisted man assigned to some menial job down in the bowels of the ship – except that one day that sailor’s “menial” work would save Plumb’s life.

Imagine a Mercedes Benz automobile, as my friend Jacques likes to say, that costs a hundred-thousand-dollars.  Yet, he points out, the car cannot function without a battery which maybe costs a couple hundred dollars.  But neither can the battery deliver the energy required to start the car were it not for a small cable connecting it to the starter, a part with a value of maybe two dollars.  Without it, though, the Mercedes is useless.

Often it’s not about doing great things that matters nearly so much as doing small things that add up to make a great difference.  I wonder who the parachute packers have been in my life, and how many I’ve passed by without acknowledging?  And whose parachute have I packed lately, or when have I been a two-dollar cable connecting one important part to another?  “The lowly will be exalted and the exalted will be brought low.” 

“. . . clothe yourself with splendor and majesty . . .”  – Psalm 45:3 

At the time our son Marc decided to pursue his higher education at Sewanee (officially The University of the South), I knew little about the school except that it’s a small liberal arts college with a credible academic reputation, located somewhere in rural Tennessee on a mountaintop.  One thing surprised me, though, and that’s its adherence to a long-standing dress code requiring male students to wear coats and ties to class, and women students to wear skirts.  Sounds like a throw-back from a bygone era, doesn’t it?  I thought so too – that is, until I began to understand the wisdom behind it.

Our culture is not much in to coats and ties these days.  Even the Wall Street banking world where I came from started drifting toward more casual attire long before I left that profession over fifteen years ago.  Few people even put on their best bib-and-tucker, as my mother used to say, to attend religious services anymore, myself included.  But there was a time when it was the norm.  I even recall a time when bow-ties were part of the khaki uniforms worn by gas station attendants, delivery people, and auto mechanics.

What Sewanee recognizes, as I’m sure do other places that maintain similar high standards, is the correlation between looking our best and performing at our best.  Conversely, mediocre appearance can influence both mediocre performance as well as behavior.

Technology has certainly changed how we do our work, affording many to work from home, at least part of the time.  It’s a great benefit in many ways.  I office from home myself.  Yet, I notice myself more productive when I dress well – though alone – as opposed to sitting around in PJ’s or workout clothes.  And even my demeanor on the phone is more professional when I look nice, even though invisible to the other party. 

Appearances are not everything, that’s for sure.  But there is something to be said for presenting ourselves well, for by doing so we dignify those with whom we come in contact, not just ourselves.  “. . . clothe yourself with splendor and majesty . . . ,” the Psalmist said.  Or as another wise person put it, “dress like you mean business.”  And that’s the great wisdom behind Sewanee’s adherence to its long-standing dress code. 

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people. . .”

–          Galatians 6:9-10 

My bowl of cereal was sitting in front of me that morning while I thumbed through the newspaper, as is my custom, when my attention was unexpectedly drawn away from the usual business and sports news that normally captured my attention, to a book review.  The year was 1994 when book review articles were not exactly top priority, especially given the tight schedule I was on to get to the office.  But the title of this newly released book grabbed me, Halftime by (the now late) Bob Buford, a book addressed to people – men mostly – in or approaching midlife.  Until that moment I had never considered that I was at that exact point in life.  By day’s end, however, the book was in my possession.

For most of my life I had been led to believe that my lot in life was to become successful, by that I mean financially successful, and by 1994 my career was certainly on the rise.  But looking back now I realize that while financial security is always appealing, the effort and sacrifice it was going to take to attain it was not so appealing – not for me at least.  Nevertheless, over the next several years my career did continue to advance, and accordingly my fortunes grew as well.  Yet, at the same time Buford’s message of “changing one’s game plan from success to significance” nagged at me, causing me to question my motives of pursuing success versus focusing instead on doing good. 

Today I’m happy to report that the latter eventually won out over the former, and while we continue to live comfortably, the wealth and status I had once believed to be my lot in life never materialized.  And how blessed my life has been as a result.

To think it all happened so unexpectedly over a routine bowl of cereal and the morning newspaper, a message I’m convinced was from God – conveyed through Bob Buford’s book – that would profoundly change my life.  For that I will be forever grateful.  “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people. . .”