Category Archives: Uncategorized

“Give ear to my words, O Lord . . . Listen to my cry for help . . .” – Psalm 5:1-2 

Do you have any idea how painful it is to my masculine ego to say these words, “I need help!”?  I remember inviting a friend to lunch one time because I really did need help, but not with such things like changing a tire or lifting a heavy piece of furniture.  Those are easy to ask for, for me at least.  In this case I needed a different kind of help, the kind of help that took most of our lunchtime before I could even muster the courage to ask.  What I needed was someone to simply listen about an issue I was wrestling with, to offer a shoulder to cry on so to speak, to try to understand, without offering suggestions or solutions.  Just listen!

Several years ago a number of books hit the market attempting to explain the differences between men and women.  A couple of the more popular titles were, You Just Don’t Understand by Deborah Tannen, and Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus by John Gray.  One of the authors – I forget which one – had a theory that suggested that when men have problems, they just want answers.  Women on the other hand are not so much looking for answers as for someone to listen and understand.  Now with all due respect to the writers of these books, which I found quite insightful by the way, they may have over-stereotyped the two genders just a bit, for based on my own experience such as the one I just described, it seems to me that the emotional needs of men and women may not be that far apart.  Except, macho guys like me don’t like to admit that.

Much to my astonishment, instead of offering advice that day, my friend responded to my plea for help something like this: “Gee, I never realized you needed help.  You always seem to be so self-sufficient, capable of working things out on your own.  I just assumed you would work this one out on your own as well.”  (Was I doing a great job of masking my vulnerability or what?)  After that remark my friend became quiet and simply listened – unconditionally, without judgment or criticism – and with a genuine sense of understanding.  At the end of our lunch he thanked me – thanked me? – yes, for bearing my soul to him.  I was touched!  “Give ear to my words, O Lord,” King David pleaded in his Psalm, “Listen to my cry for help.”  What a gift to have a friend nearby, like I did that day, willing to listen the way we would expect God to listen, unconditionally and with a heart for understanding, where we are free to surrender to our vulnerability.

“In everything set them an example by doing what is good.”  – Titus 2:7 

“HO!” he playfully hollered as his right arm swung over to protect me from banging my head against the dashboard of his old Ford coupe as it bounced off the curb of a parking place he recklessly pulled into.  (This was before the days of seatbelts and car seats.)  I was only three years old at the time, and when he hollered “HO!” I thought it was the funniest thing my grandfather ever said.  In fact, it was the only thing I remember that my maternal grandfather ever said, as he died shortly after my fourth birthday.

Fortunately, I got to spend at least a few more years with my paternal grandfather, although he too passed away when I was only nine.  (For the record, it was the consequence of being the caboose in the family, the youngest grandchild on both sides, that I did not get to enjoy my grandfathers’ company longer than I did.)  Strangely, though, even by age nine and having spent a great deal of time with him, I don’t recall much of what my paternal grandfather said either.  What I do remember distinctly about both my grandfathers, though, is how they lived their lives, both being men of strong faith and impeccable character, highly respected in their community, who loved their families and showed compassion and gave generously as they were able to those less fortunate.

Knowledge and wisdom are conveyed from one person to another and from one generation to the next in many ways: teaching, coaching, mentoring, advising, and counseling.  All are important, indeed essential to the process of teaching and learning.  But perhaps the most impactful method of conveyance, especially in terms of instilling character, is through example, role-modeling, when the way one lives speaks for itself.

Admittedly, there have been moments in my life, adult life especially, when I have yearned for the opportunity to sit at my grandfathers’ feet, to listen to their stories and experiences, pick their brains, have them around to teach, advise, and mentor me.  Yet, what I did receive from them was far greater – the example of how they lived. “In everything set them an example by doing what is good,” the Apostle Paul wrote to his colleague Titus.  It is the most powerful lesson I learned from my two grandfathers, and the most impactful thing any of us can do for the next generation.

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”  – Genesis 1:27 

Several years ago, we were invited by a friend to a local hangout where she knew one of the musicians performing with the jazz ensemble that was playing that evening.  We accepted the offer, quite honestly to spend time with our friend, not necessarily for the musical performance.  But as the evening wore on, we became more and more intrigued with the music.  Not that we were not fans of jazz before, in fact we often enjoy listening to it in the car when we are on road trips.  That evening, though, we realized something in the live performance that we had failed to recognize listening to recordings; that is, we were not just listening to the music, but experiencing the musicians themselves.  Jazz is like that, you see, a unique music form that is not simply being played, rather it is being created before your very eyes.  It is more like entering a studio where artists are painting and sculpting instead of a gallery filled with completed works.

In his book Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller describes a similar epiphany about jazz music.  “I never liked jazz music,” he says, “because jazz music doesn’t resolve.  But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland [Oregon] one night when I saw a man playing saxophone.  I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes. . . After that I liked jazz.”

Dorothy Sayers, the late British writer, poet, and playwright would often analogize that an artist is one who “does not see life as a problem to be solved, but as a medium for creation.”  I think what she was trying to say is that the context of our lives is in the story we create with them, and that the problems we solve, however great or small, are only details within the story.

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him.”  Referring to that scripture Julia Cameron, in her classic book The Artist’s Way, concludes that if we are made in the image of the Creator, that means that we too are creators.  Thus, like jazz music, we do not resolve, as long as we have breath within us, we are not completed works.  Until then, we remain artists, continuing to create in this our earthly studio.

“. . . let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds . . .”

• Matthew 5:16 

Some referred to him as the “Snake Man,” this mysterious man who would appear on rare occasions in the rural northwest Texas community where I grew up as a kid, who rode into town on a silver bicycle, wearing bib overalls with a backpack slung over his back.  He only came to town, I suppose, to stock up on basic provisions, after which he could be seen peddling his bike out along the edge of the highway toward wherever he lived.  Some speculated he dwelled in a cave or a tent out in the countryside somewhere.  Maybe he was nomadic, I’m not sure.  Another rumor was that his livelihood came from catching rattlesnakes and selling them for the venom, and that he had been snakebit so many times that he developed an immunity, thus he became known by some as the “Snake Man.”  A mysterious fellow for sure, but whether any of that is true I don’t know.

It was John Donne, the seventeenth century English scholar, poet, and preacher who wrote the well-known phrase in one of his meditations that “no man is an island”.  While that may be true, the Snake Man came as close to being an island as anyone I have ever known.  Yet, even he, this hermit-like person living alone out in the wilderness who I never spoke to nor whose real name I ever knew, had an influence on my life, however subtle it may have been; for his lifestyle, true or speculation, inspired a sense of adventure in me which I have never forgotten, as I fantasized about the freedom of living out in the wild – except for the rattlesnakes, which usually snapped me back into reality.

“No man is an island,” for our actions inevitably touch the lives of others, especially those close to us – family, friends, and those we encounter on a regular basis – but also those off in a distance who we have no idea are paying attention, like me with the Snake Man.  Did he have any idea some young kid was watching?  I doubt it.

Indeed, the decisions we make and the actions we take inevitably spill over into the lives of others – whether good or evil.  It is a responsibility we can view in one of two ways, either a burden or an opportunity.  Is it a burden that no matter our efforts to withdraw from society, no person can be an island?  Or do we see it as an opportunity, an opportunity to “let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works?”

“. . . the wise listen and add to their learning.”  Proverbs 1:5 

There is a seldom spoken yet commonly practiced proverb in my profession of executive coaching that goes something like this: “Questions attract.  Statements repel.”  Wharton Business School professor Adam Grant offers a thoughtful explanation to this proverb in his recent book Think Again, by warning that as we get too wrapped up in what we have to say, “we often slip into the mindsets of three different professions. . . We go into preacher mode when our sacred beliefs are in jeopardy . . . We enter prosecutor mode when we recognize flaws in other people’s reasoning . . . [and] We shift into politician mode when we’re seeking to win over an audience.”  The risk is in talking too much, so that even if the message is a valid one, it may fall on deaf ears for failure to learn about those to whom we are presenting.  The way to avoid that is to ask questions and engage in conversation; for questions attract, statements repel.

When we were considering selling our home several years ago, we invited four highly reputable real estate agents to be interviewed as candidates for the listing of our house.  One at a time, the first three took his or her place at our dining room table armed with an impressive résumé, well-researched pricing information, and a creative marketing plan.  Each made his or her presentation, asked if we had questions, then made a final pitch for why we should choose him or her over the others (preacher, prosecutor, politician).

Then Susan showed up, the fourth candidate.  She too came armed with an impressive résumé, pricing information, and marketing plan, but more importantly she came armed with warmth and curiosity.  She refrained from talking except to ask questions, wanted to get to know us, why we were considering selling the home we had lived in for twenty-five years, where did we plan to move?  We discussed mutual friends, common interests, even our dog who she fell in love with – seriously!  And her questions did not come across as routine fact-finding, but genuinely curious as from the heart, much like a close friend.  Eventually, she did present her professional information, but only after we asked.  By listening, Susan not only won the listing on our home, but was also chosen to represent us in the purchase for our new home, earning not one commission but two.

Questions attract, statements repel, as “. . . the wise listen and add to their learning.”