Who makes the best the decisions, those who rely on extensive analysis, or those who follow their instincts? I once had a boss, who only made decisions after studying all the data. He was an analyzer, a thinker. I on the other hand mostly make decisions from the gut. It is not that I ignore data and technical information; in fact I do generally consider it in the process. But when it comes to pulling the trigger, most of my decisions come from instinct. For the longest time I thought my boss, and now a longtime close friend, must be smarter than me because of his analytical ability. Perhaps he is smarter than me, but the fact is he made no more right decisions than me, nor fewer wrong ones than me. We simply had different ways of reaching conclusions.

Most psychological assessments are designed to inform us of our normal behavioral tendencies and our preferences in the way we respond to circumstances. Perhaps most noted among the many valid and exceptional assessments is the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator or MBTI which is sometimes considered the “granddaddy” of them all. The MBTI consists of four pairs of preferences or dichotomies, one preference being the opposite of the other. One of those pairs includes people who have a preference for thinking (T) versus those who have a preference for feeling (F), “thinkers” being the analytical types and “feelers” being more instinctive – neither better than the other nor necessarily requiring greater intelligence than the other. Case in point, my friend and former boss clearly qualifies as a “thinker” while I am by my own admission a “feeler” as the MBTI assessment has affirmed.

In the process of organizing, furnishing, and decorating our new home, it has been fascinating to observe how both preferences have come into play. Although Tee and I are both basically “feelers”, we nevertheless begin by “thinking”, that is developing logical ideas about how we want our home to look and function. But when it comes to pulling the trigger on a decision it is ultimately instinct that makes the final determination.

So who makes the best decisions, “thinkers” or “feelers”? The answer is both. The important thing is to (1) trust your own preference, and (2) give consideration to those whose preference is different than yours. That’s really how the best decisions are made.

About the same time this message hits your inbox I will be sitting on an airplane preparing for takeoff, probably half listening as a flight attendant recites the obligatory instructions about seatbelts, tray tables, the location of the lavatories, and the part about the oxygen masks coming down from above in case of a loss of cabin pressure. That one always intrigues me, especially when they tell us that if we are traveling with a small child to place the mask on ourselves first before placing it on the child. My first impression is that that seems backwards; for isn’t it our instinct to take care of the child first? Yet, when we think about it the logic makes perfect sense, that is by taking care of ourselves first we will be much better equipped to take care of the needs of the child.

During a small group meeting my wife attends each week a friend suggested recently that when we pray we should pray for ourselves first. When she shared that idea with me my first impression was much the same as with the oxygen mask and the child. Should we not focus our prayers first and foremost on the needs of others, I questioned? Yet the logic is the same, that by first taking care of ourselves we will be much better equipped to tend to the needs of others.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “I can never be all I ought to be, unless you are what you ought to be. You can never be what you ought to be, unless I am all I ought to be.” How do we get to be all we ought to be unless we are generous toward ourselves body, mind, and spirit? We must have something to give before we can offer it to someone else; otherwise we are of little use. How can we expect to provide oxygen to a child if we are gasping for breath; or how can we offer spiritual intercession for another when our own soul is malnourished?

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” Jesus commanded, “And . . . Love your neighbor as yourself.” But to love our neighbor as ourselves implies that we must also love ourselves, and in doing so – including being generous in nourishing ourselves – we grow closer to being all we ought to be, which in turn equips us to help others become all they ought to be.

Never doubt the influence little actions can have on others.

My undistinguished military career was anything but influential, except for one obscure, humorous incident. Once while going through basic training, exhausted from a particularly grueling day we had hit the showers early before retiring to our bunks for a few precious hours of sleep. Now, I’ve never been one to sing in the shower, but for some reason that evening I was quietly entertaining myself by humming a little tune when the guy next to me heard it and said, “Hey, man, sing that a little louder.” Next thing I knew he started singing along. Then someone else chimed in, then another. Before long there was a whole chorus of naked boot camp buddies harmonizing in the shower having the time of their lives. After that, they carried on night after night thinking up songs, snapping their fingers, laughing and singing their hearts out. Could they ever sing!

Anyone who has endured the rigors of military training will identify with the importance of developing camaraderie. It’s one of the objectives, I suppose. Those guys who sang in the shower together became great comrades. Although they invited me to participate, I was never really part of that group, not because I wasn’t welcome, I just couldn’t sing like they could.

We never know when the seeds we scatter will sprout into a tree, when some kind act or encouraging word will be a spark that ignites something greater. A pleasant “thank you” to a store clerk, making room for another motorist to move into your lane, a phone call to check up on a friend, a kind word to a fellow passenger on an airplane, a warm smile, or a friendly handshake – little gestures can make a huge difference. In my wildest dreams I would never have imagined that humming to myself in the shower would influence a whole chorus of boot camp comrades.

It just goes to prove . . . never doubt the influence little actions can have on others.

History serves little purpose it seems to me if not to teach and inform us about how to deal with the present age and to inspire us to prepare for and pursue a greater future. I say that as one who loves history, or more correctly loves old stories of the past as evidenced so often in these writings. While I do find myself amused by stories about the past, I also believe more than anything that they are the best source – if not the only source – for teaching us life’s most valuable lessons. It is for that very reason that we maintain historical facts and stories, otherwise we risk allowing them to become nothing more than the clutter in our attics collecting dust. In other words, do we preserve history as a means of moving us forward, or do we hang on to it simply to linger in the past?

We came face to face with that very question last week when in the process of unpacking boxes in our new home we came across two beautiful specially designed commemorative plates that had once adorned the walls of my parent’s home. Sentimental though they are to me, they’re really part of my parents’ story, not my own, besides the fact that there is no place for them in our home except to be stored in the attic. What to do? Then a pastor friend reminded us of the Biblical story of the Transfiguration when Peter, James and John ascended the mountain with Jesus and witnessed him in his glory. So overcome were they that Peter suggested they should stay there, but Jesus demanded that they return; for to have stayed would not have carried the “story” forward.

Would hanging on to those commemorative plates really benefit our lives and the lives of others moving forward, or would we simply be clinging to by-gone days? Pondering that question did not take long after what the pastor said. Soon it was settled, the plates should go.

Had Peter, James and John remained on the mountain the world might have been deprived the message of the Gospel. But through them it lived on. Likewise, had we clung to those plates they would have simply collected dust in the attic. Instead the lessons learned from my parents’ story will pass on through our own living, and that’s what really matters.