“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” - Luke 12:48

“Who will give when they go? Remarkable generation of donors is tough act to follow,” so stated the front page headline in the Sunday edition of the Dallas Morning News. The article praised the generosity of a number of wealthy donors who in their lifetimes have given millions of dollars toward the betterment of our community. Some have already passed on, and those remaining are not getting any younger, which leaves the big question of who will be the next generation of philanthropists.

I found this to be a rather refreshing article given that we are in the midst of a faltering economy and an ever widening gap between the wealthy and the middle-class, with protests raging across the country against Wall Street and the culture of big banks. Having spent thirty years of my own life as a Wall Street professional I can testify that the greed factor that so many are railing against is not a myth. I’ve witnessed it myself, even got caught up in it for a while. But the problem is not that some make excessive amounts of money while others in our culture struggle to find jobs. The problem is the lack of compassion some of the high paid corporate types seem to have toward the less fortunate. In a nutshell it is greed. But not all rich people are greedy. Many are extraordinarily generous, taking seriously the biblical view that “from everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded,” such as those praised by the Dallas Morning News. And that is what I found to be so refreshing about the article, a reminder that people of good will still exist at every socio-economic level.

Grateful as I am for the restoration of my health after a near fatal medical event two weeks ago, I too am faced with the same question as that newer generation who has amassed great fortunes. What am I to do with what I’ve been given; for “from everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” I pray that I will somehow be as generous with my health as those good citizens from that “remarkable generation of donors” have been with their wealth.

One of my favorite stories which bears repeating has to do with a man who lived in the small community where I grew up by the name of Roy Wall. Considered to be somewhat of a character because of his opinionated views, crusty wit, and sometimes salty language, he was also a creative inventor, successful farmer, and community leader. Roy had another distinctive feature in that he was an amputee, having lost an arm in an accident when he was a small child, something he chose to use as a source of strength and determination in his life rather than a disability.

One day, so the story goes, while Roy was struggling to harness a cantankerous team of mules a young man came by the farm to call on him. Observing the situation the young man tried to help out with the mules, but was brusquely dismissed in a sea of unrepeatable language. The young man, a newly hired school teacher in the tiny country school where Roy served as school board president, was obviously unfamiliar with Roy’s volatile disposition. Later, though, once the mules settled down and were duly hitched to the wagon Roy apologized to the young man explaining to him that even though his intentions were good he in fact interfered with his ability to deal with the mules. “Young man,” he said, “I may only have one arm, but I can do almost anything with one arm that most men can do with two. Of course, I can’t play a fiddle – but then #@!&*#$ neither can you!”

As you might imagine there are hundreds of stories about Roy Wall. He designed and created an eating utensil, for example, that was sort of a knife and fork combined allowing him to cut his meat and eat it with one hand. That instrument I am told is his grandchildren’s most coveted family heirloom. Another thing he did was teach young kids how to tie their shoes with one hand. How many of us can do that?

Roy Wall may have been an amputee, but he was hardly disabled. In fact, he could do almost anything with one hand that most men can do with two. As I lay in the hospital last week after my recent mishap I thought a lot about Roy. I figure if he can do it, why should I allow my own health issues to limit me in any way. Of course, I can’t play a fiddle either – but then neither can most of you.

Every day is a blessing, we should all know that. But sometimes things happen that make us more keenly aware of how blessed we truly are and how precious life is. Friday was one of those days. We knew it would be because it was the day our newest granddaughter was supposed to arrive, and indeed she did, right on time. At exactly 10:33 a.m. Corrina Carol Wilson entered our world weighing in at seven pounds thirteen ounces, healthy and beautiful. The whole event could not have gone more perfectly for both mother and baby.

What we didn’t expect was that at the same time Corrina was being born Grandpa (that would be me) was being treated in the emergency room of the same hospital having passed out while on an early morning jog falling face down in the street. Fortunately, Tee was not far behind and two other joggers happened to be coming toward us. The joggers aroused neighbors to call 911 while Tee tended to me and our dog Cowgirl protectively stood guard over the situation. All were angels who had they not been there . . . . well, the outcome might have been much worse.

Doctors discovered pulmonary embolisms, blood clots that had developed in the pulmonary arteries of both my lungs reducing the oxygen in my blood to the extent that I passed out, no warning signs, no prior symptoms. Even my regular doctors confessed they could not have predicted such an occurrence. According to them had it not been for my otherwise good health and physical condition plus the rapid response of the angels nearby the whole event might have been much worse. The good news is I’m going to be okay, no long term damage. The bad news is that my face looks like I’ve been in the ring with Mike Tyson, black eye, broken teeth, and stitches in my chin. That, of course, will all heal over time.

Corrina and Grandpa in the same hospital at the same time – both here by the grace of God – what a family story that will be in years to come! It all serves to remind us that every day is a blessing, but sometimes things happen that make us more keenly aware of how blessed we truly are and how precious life really is, and that God is good – all the time. Friday was one of those days.

“You’re very creative,” she blurted out. I was startled by such a remark. No way, I thought. What does she see in me that I’m missing? “The problem is,” she began to explain, “you’ve become a very linear thinker, plus you have devoted almost thirty years of your life to a highly regulated business, following rules. What I am trying to do,” she went on, “is awaken your creativity, for you are a very creative person.”

That conversation between my coach and me is as vivid today as it was over seven years ago when it occurred. Eighteen months earlier I had retired from my previous career and had hired her to help me explore what my next one would be. And it was during that conversation that I received one of the greatest epiphanies I have ever experienced, not so much in discovering my creativity, but for the first time in my life I felt I had been given permission and encouragement to pursue it and use it.

Yes, I am creative as my coach revealed to me, but I am not unique in that. So are you. Does it surprise you to learn that as it did me? The truth is creativity is part of the human DNA. We all have it, it just manifests itself in different ways in each of us. We all have different talents. And it is through our unique talents that we are given the ability to transform chaos as we find it into some kind of meaningful order, which is what creativity is all about.

Consider this: “God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him,” we are told in Genesis 1:27. If that is true that God the Creator of all created mankind in his own likeness, does that not imply that we too are creators? Was that not his intention? If not, why did he give us naming rights and grant us dominion over all he had created?

My great epiphany that day was the realization that the answer is “yes” to all the above, that creativity is a gift from God. And when we use it as He intended – and use it we should – that is our gift back to Him.

When I was a bond trader there was an old saying that “bulls make money and bears make money, but hogs never do.” In other words, those who kept their positions moving, selling and buying, would consistently be profitable, but the greedy ones who were always holding out for the last dollar would sooner or later get in trouble and lose money. Another interpretation might be that those who consistently do the right things will end up winners while those who try to keep it all for themselves ultimately fail.

Last week’s Wall Street Journal contained a rather refreshing story about how Webster Bank, a regional banking company headquartered in Waterbury, Connecticut, has been aggressively working with its mortgage customers in helping them remain current and stay out of default. For them “Foreclosure Has Become a Dirty Word” the headline read. With job loss and other financial hardships bearing on their lending clients in this difficult economy, Webster is bending over backwards to restructure loans, extend payment periods, grant temporary interest rate relief – anything to help people stay current on their payments and avoid foreclosure. As a result, many of their clients have been able to work through their financial difficulties without losing their homes.

What is even more impressive about Webster Bank, though, is its attitude toward these struggling clients as reflected in this story: “Two years ago, Webster cut the monthly payment on Anne Glenzer’s $60,180 home-equity loan by $123 to $366 after her job as a learning and development specialist was eliminated. Webster recently cut the payment to $206 after Ms. Glenzer and her husband, a schoolteacher, exhausted their savings. Both times Ms. Glenzer worked with Natalie Clark, who joined Webster four years ago as a debt collector. ‘She was sympathetic,’ says Ms. Glenzer. ‘She didn’t make me feel like a failure.’” Speaks volumes about the culture of the bank and the character of Natalie Clark, doesn’t it?

And who’s the big winner in all this? Well, for sure it is the struggling homeowners, but time will most likely prove the bank to be the biggest winner. Why? Because by doing the right thing they will prove the point that bulls make money and bears make money, but hogs never do.

Forty Years with My Best Friend

The man said, “This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman’ for she was taken out of man.” For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh. Genesis 2:23-24

Pretty, petite, funny, fun and adventurous, sometimes a little shy; determined, dedicated and dependable, that’s my best friend; sweet, loving, kind, gentle, soft spoken, and low key . . . except, “when someone messes with my children,” she once said of herself, “then I am the mother lion.” And that she is as I have witnessed many times through the years, my best friend’s gentle soft spoken nature turning into aggression when she would see her children in danger or under attack and in need of defense, protection or rescue. Even today off in the shadows but on high alert she continually keeps watch over her children and grandchildren, like a mother lion watching over her cubs ready to defend, protect, or rescue at the first sign of danger. That’s my best friend.

It was on a blind date arranged by a mutual friend that we first met. Skeptical at first, we both almost declined the invitation having had rather poor experiences in the past with such arrangements. “But oh well,” we each thought, “why not try it one more time.” And when our eyes met for the first time there was an instant connection, like no other either of us had ever experienced. By the end of our second date we were bonded – for life as it turned out. We became inseparable best friends, “bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” Together we have raised a family, supported each other through all kinds of trials, laughed a lot, cried a little, suffered through scarce times and rejoiced in prosperous ones, tried things that didn’t work and some that did, shared meals together, traveled, read books and watched movies, worked together and played together – mostly we have a lot of fun together and still do. That’s what best friends do.

She’s still the same mother lion to our children and grandchildren, and the same pretty, petite, fun, funny, sweet, loving, kind, gentle person I met on that blind date, a gift from God. And today marks a special occasion – forty wonderful years with my best friend.

“As my research has carried me back through the years, I have been brought to a greater appreciation and a keener realization of the refining and cultural influence that our homes, schools, churches and social orders have brought to bear upon our people . . . It is they who brought into being and nourished a community that is dear to our hearts and into whose sod our roots have truly grown deep and strong.” Carmen Taylor Bennett, from Our Roots Grow Deep, 1970.

I have been privileged to have come from deep roots, from pioneer ancestors who settled in and around the rural, hard-scrabble northwest Texas county where I was born and raised – the subject of Carmen Taylor Bennett’s book – to having strong family connections that can easily be traced back four or five generations or more. Roots are important, they ground us and nourish our souls in ways nothing else can. Yet in this fast-paced mostly urban lifestyle we live in today the depth of our roots has unfortunately become much more shallow. Many are disconnected from the strong generational ties that once existed. But people still yearn for deep roots, I believe, for roots provide valuable insights as to who we are and why we exist, and we all have a need for meaning in our lives.

Being among a privileged class with deep family and cultural roots as I am, however, while helpful is not the ultimate revelation of our human roots. It actually began, as I discovered when I started to study scripture in earnest, thousands of generations ago in our human ancestry; for as one reads the stories of the great characters of the Bible such as Abraham, Jacob, Noah, Moses, David, Solomon, Ruth, Esther, Job, and others we realize that their stories mirror our own, indeed they are “every man’s” stories – imperfect people whose roots are planted in the same soil as yours and mine. As Carmen Taylor Bennett said so well, “It is they who brought into being and nourished a [human] community that is dear to our hearts and into whose sod our roots have truly grown deep and strong.” So no matter who we are, where we were born, or what we may know about our ancestry, be assured that our roots all grow deep. We should all cherish and be nourished by those roots. They grow deep and strong in sacred sod.

Did you ever consider how important it is to be moving forward, to be making progress? It just occurred to me this past week how powerfully we are impacted by whether or not we feel that our lives are moving forward. My wife Tee, not normally a moody person, had been feeling some frustration recently about being stuck in some circumstances beyond her control. Then over the weekend we received a contract on our house which has been on the market for several weeks. Suddenly and dramatically everything about her changed as if all at once she felt unstuck and was moving forward again.

So often we fail to realize that moving forward is much more important than hitting homeruns, although homeruns are a nice bonus from time to time. But mostly life is about hitting singles, advancing from one base to the next, than it is knocking it out of the park. It is about knowing that somehow, someway we are moving forward.

The great twentieth century philosopher, Dr. Seuss, expressed it this way: “Oh! The Places You’ll Go!” he exclaimed. “You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away! . . . Except when you don’t. Because, sometimes, you won’t. I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you. . . . You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch. . . . [Then you find yourself in] The Waiting Place . . . for people just waiting. [But] No! That’s not for you! Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. . . Oh, the places you’ll go! . . . And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

I still say hurray for homeruns, big successes and great accomplishments. We need them from time to time. But real happiness and fulfillment is not so much about that as it is moving forward, and moving forward is an attitude more than it is an activity, a state of mind even when we are stuck or waiting. Then we begin to recognize delays and setbacks for what they really are – part of the process of moving forward. And when you move forward you will succeed, “98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed”.

“You’re on your own.” Have you ever heard those words? You probably have in one way or another more times than you can remember. One instance I remember was with Sammy, the crusty old foreman in the metal shop where I worked during college. When I first went to work there Sammy took me around to the various machines and taught me how to operate each one – only I wouldn’t exactly call it teaching. It was more like he demonstrated the procedure one time then muttered to me as he walked away, “you’re on your own.” Eventually after several blunders I figured it out, but it surely would have been easier if old Sammy had hung around a little longer before leaving me on my own.

One of the great “you’re on your own” stories involved the prophet Elijah who had taken on Elisha as his apprentice. “When the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven in a whirlwind,” scripture says, “Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Stay here; the Lord has sent me to Bethel.’ But Elisha said, ‘As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.’ So they went down to Bethel.” Elijah tried the same trick two other times in an effort to leave Elisha “on his own” – once to Jericho and another to the river Jordan – but Elisha cleverly clung to his mentor as long as he could until being promised a double portion of Elijah’s spirit; whereupon a chariot of fire separated them and Elijah was swept away to heaven in a whirlwind leaving Elisha “on his own” for sure. (Source: 2 Kings 2)

It’s the story of all our lives where a mentor of some kind, maybe several – a parent, grandparent, teacher, pastor, boss – for whom we served as apprentice must go, leaving us on our own. Yet, like Elisha did with Elijah we cling to them as long as we can, not wanting to give up the comfort and safety of their wisdom.

It is not wrong to depend upon our mentor as long as we can, but the time will always come when he or she stands no more as our leader and guide. Our response always is to cling to them as long as possible. But it is for our own sake and the responsibility we have for the next generation that we must be on our own; for we must prepare ourselves to say and the next generation to hear those words, “you’re on your own.”

“What we’ve got here is . . . failure to communicate.” Remember that line from the movie “Cool Hand Luke” (1967)? It probably ranks up there as one of the most quoted movie lines ever, alongside others like Cling Eastwood’s famous “Dirty Harry” scene , “go ahead, make my day”, or Rhett Butler’s memorable “frankly Scarlett I don’t give a . . .”. The difference is that “failure to communicate” is much more than a line from a movie scene; it is something we deal with every day.

Isn’t it amazing that in today’s world with all the advanced electronic communication tools – email, text messaging, cell phones, internet, radio and television, etc. – we still suffer from “failure to communicate”. Could it be that we have become so dependent on the instantaneous flow of information that we have left out some of the other important elements in communication such as basic etiquette and common courtesy?

Here are a few tips: (1) Listen! Listen (or read) not only with your ears (or eyes) but with all your senses. That is, pay attention to the person not just the words. (2) Reflect. Think about what you hear before you react. Try to understand even if you don’t agree. (3) Respond. Emails and voice mails are easy to ignore, but common decency tells us we should at least acknowledge them. Besides, failure to respond is “failure to communicate”. (4) Ask questions. In coaching we are taught that “questions attract, statements repel”. Asking questions lubricates the lines of communication by showing respect to the other party in addition to gaining clarity about what is being communicated. (5) Communication works both ways. Before blaming others for failure to communicate first consider how you could have been a better communicator yourself. And (6) follow the Golden Rule. Treat others the way you would have them treat you.

“What we’ve got here [in our society] is . . . a failure to communicate,” and I too am as much an offender as a victim. The solution, though, is simple. All that’s needed is the addition of a little basic etiquette and common courtesy. Try it and see what happens.