“I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness.”  - Mother Teresa 

My father-in-law was such an avid golfer who spent so much time on the golf course that golf became almost synonymous with his identity.  But as much as he was connected with the game of golf itself he was equally notorious for the rather colorful language he so often used while playing it.  His golf game and his golf language sort of went hand in hand. 

One particularly amusing story occurred several years ago when an unsuspecting stranger was assigned to my father-in-law’s foursome in a tournament.  Thinking his profanities were directed at him - or anyone who happened to be within hearing distance - after the first few holes the poor guy was about to walk off the course having had enough of being offended.  Then my father-in-law missed a put.  “Ah, hit the *#!$%#@*# ball in the hole, you idiot!!” he blurted out at himself.  Then the man realized my father-in-law’s profanities were not intended for him.  Instead his criticisms were toward himself. 

Now my father-in-law was an accomplished golfer and a student of the game from every aspect.  Yet as far as I know throughout his seventy of so years of playing he won very few tournaments.  But then winning was never his goal in the first place; rather for him it was all about the personal challenge of striving for excellence at his own game.  Golf, you see, was more than a hobby for him, it was a calling, a way of life.  It was how he connected with people - and how others connected with him.  And as the unsuspecting stranger eventually learned, in spite of his notorious self-effacing outbursts my father-in-law was always a gentleman toward his fellow players. 

For my father-in-law golf was all about striving for excellence, not attaining success.  It was about faithfulness to his calling, not winning tournaments and trophies.  That is why he was so hard on himself, why he is remembered as much by his colorful language as his love for the game - why so many of his missed puts were followed by his famous outburst, “Ah, hit the *#$%#@*# ball in the hole, you idiot!!”  Even God must have been amused - who cares much more about faithfulness than success.

(from the archives) 

Mohandas Gandhi (1869-1948) spent 2,338 days (nearly six and a half years) in British jails.  Far from considering it punishment, however, Gandhi chose to use his imprisonment as an extended time for reflection and writing.  The result was that no human in recent history had greater influence on our world through a course of non-violence - having led a fifth of the world’s population to independence - than Mohandas Gandhi. 

“Next to life itself,” says Stephen Covey, “the power to choose is your greatest gift.”  Every human being, regardless of circumstances, is granted the gift to choose.  Most readers of this message chose what to wear today from a wide array of garments hanging in the closet, and chose from a variety of foods in the pantry what to eat for breakfast.  We may take this somewhat for granted, but most of us are probably grateful for these choices.  Choice, however, is not limited to the privileged Western middle-class.  Consider the opposite extreme.  Those for instance, who suffered the atrocities, abuse, disease and starvation of the concentration camps either chose to share and help their fellow prisoners, or they chose to focus on self survival.  Though difficult to imagine, the gift of choice, limited though it may have been, still existed within those horrendous conditions. 

Covey, in his definition, uses the word “power”, for we are indeed empowered by the gift of choice.  Covey goes on to say the following:  “This power and freedom stand in stark contrast to the mind-set of victim-ism and culture of blame so prevalent in society today. . . . . Your power to choose the direction of your life allows you to reinvent yourself, to change your future, and to powerfully influence the rest of creation.  It is the one gift that enables all the gifts to be used; it is the one gift that enables us to elevate our life to higher and higher levels.” 

Gandhi changed the world, and freed twenty percent of humanity through non-violent actions.  He became an agent of change because of his power to choose.  The choices we make produce the results in our lives.  The mechanism for making choices, however, originates in a deeper place.  It is the power to choose.

Occasionally I suggest to my coaching clients that they should write their own epitaph.  Now that may sound a bit morbid at first, but it is intended as a visionary exercise not a fatalistic one.  If you can sum up, in other words, in just one short sentence or phrase what you would like to have said about you at the end of your life you have essentially written a vision statement, and a vision statement provides direction for your life.  That’s the purpose of the exercise. 

Several years ago our family became acquainted with a man named Max.  Max had at one time been a prominent banker, rancher and successful businessman but had suffered a severe stroke which left him mostly paralyzed and in need of full time care.  Always cheerful and outgoing, though, Max puttered around the facility where he resided in his motorized wheelchair visiting with fellow residents and greeting visitors when they arrived.  That’s how we first met Max. 

Max never forgot anything.  He remembered everyone’s name, where they were from, and what they were up to.  Having a conversation with Max was an absolutely delightful experience.  He was inquisitive, interesting and funny.  But Max did something I will never forget.  At the end of every conversation before we parted ways he would always remind us in some way to go live our lives to the fullest.  Then he’d look each one of us straight in the eye.  ”Remember,” he would say, “this is not dress rehearsal.” 

At first I was puzzled by Max’s closing remarks, suspecting perhaps it had something to do with his confinement to a wheelchair, regrets about things he had done or failed to do.  Maybe, but then Max didn’t seem much like the type to harbor regrets or disappointments.  In fact, based on the stories we heard and the enthusiasm he continued to show I think Max had lived his life with the same vigor he was encouraging others to do.  Max lived as if he had written his epitaph.  

Let me ask you something.  If you could sum up in just one short sentence or phrase what you would like to have said about you at the end of your life, what would that be?  What will be your epitaph?  Think about it.  Remember, this is not dress rehearsal.

“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious.” - Albert Einstein 

We were visiting the Stonehenge in the beautiful English countryside several years ago and while we were there we rented those little headsets you can listen to when taking a self guided tour.  As we walked the paths among the ruins of this engineering phenomenon the narrator on the recording described several theories about who might have built Stonehenge in the first place, how they were able to do it, and what purpose it might have served.  But since no one is certain about its origin or purpose the narrator would conclude each theory with these words, “. . . but no one knows for sure.  It’s a mystery!” 

Some things in this world simply cannot be explained.  They remain mysteries.  It has been almost two years since our two little granddaughters were born.  I remember holding each one for the first time and examining their ten little fingers and ten little toes, the features of their eyes, nose, mouth, lips, and hair.  Yes, I know babies are born all over the world every day, but these two - well, they’re different you see, for they are my own flesh and blood which makes me much more keenly aware of the miracle of birth, of new life.  Recently, having had the opportunity to spend time with both almost-two-year-olds, I was overwhelmed by how much they have developed in a relatively short period of time, toddling around on their two little legs, pronouncing words, and even expressing opinions.  How does this happen?  Medical science may be able to explain many things about the formation of an embryo in a mother’s womb, the birth of an infant, and the growth and development of a child, but there is much it will never be able to explain.  In particular it will never explain the awe and wonder of holding a newborn in our arms for the first time.  It’s a mystery. 

Einstein may have had one of the most brilliant mathematical and scientific minds of any human in the history of mankind, yet he too was awestruck over the wonder and beauty of the unexplainable.  The origin of the Stonehenge remains one of the world’s unexplainable phenomenons.  But even more so is new life and new birth, and to witness it is one of the most beautiful experiences we can have.  It’s a mystery.