When I was a youngster, I once had a football coach grab me by the
face mask, pulling me in so close I could smell his last cigarette, and
tell me in no uncertain terms I needed to either get my act together or
just go home.
Fifteen years later, during what no doubt was the
most difficult year of my life, I remember a long talk with my dad, who
showed me more grace and patience than I ever dreamed he could deliver.
“You’re a good person, with good intentions,” he said. “Okay, so you’re
not perfect, but no one is. Stay true to who you are, keep striving to
be better, and you’ll be okay.”
And then just last night, in the
place I go every weekend for a spiritual fill-up, I heard words that
will keep me going until next time — much like the way gasoline allows
my car to go a little further down the road: “In a world full of hate,
show love. In a world full of greed, show generosity. In a world full of
judgment, show how peace exists because you don’t have to play God.”
If I do say so myself, one of the ways I am really smart is I realize I
do not know everything, which means there is always something I need to
learn and someone nearby to teach it. Although I wish I knew it all,
that realization came a long time ago, way back when I was a kid, and
the same is true even now.
I can point to one time after another,
year after year, for almost six decades now, when someone has pulled me
aside, called me on the phone, sent me a text, had me sit in a chair in
front of them, invited me to hear them speak, written a book, sang a
song, or put their arm around me, all in the name of giving me the
advice and direction I so desperately needed.
“Jeff, were you aware…”
“Hey, Jeff, can I give you a suggestion?”
“Jeff, this is how it’s done.”
That means my life has been filled with millions of moments, far too
many to even count, sometimes when I was convinced I did not need any
direction or correction, when I was stopped in my tracks, finding
clarity in the face of distortion, and had no choice but to say the
words, “Thanks, I needed that.”
…
…
IF I WERE TO HAVE YOU put
your nose up to this computer screen, a part of you might think that in
such proximity you could more easily read these words. But that would
not be accurate, would it?
The truth is, you are too close. In reality, you can more easily see the screen if you are a foot or so back.
The same happens in our personal lives. We go through difficult and
emotional events, and believe intuitively we see the cause, the reason
and ultimate significance all on our own, and as a result, we react. Too
often, that sudden (over)reaction breeds anger, judgment or
despair...to the point that our problem has now become even bigger and
impossible.
But sometimes we don’t read the events accurately, do
we? We’re too close to the situation. Our antagonist may have had a
legitimate motive. Or our setback may actually be a blessing in
disguise. Whatever it is, there is someone who is far enough back who
can see things in a way we cannot. And, in their position, they are
uniquely skilled to teach us a thing or two, if only we care to listen.
"Jeff, maybe you need to consider everything from a different perspective."
"Uh Jeff, sometimes things aren't what we think they are."
"Jeff, let's look at this..."
If you'll remember when Forrest Gump bought that shrimpin' boat, the
man who sold it asked him, "Let me ask you, are you stupid or
something?"
Motivational speaker Zig Zigler once said, “We all need a check up from the neck up to eliminate stinkin’ thinkin’.”
The Book of Proverbs says, “…And lean not on your own understanding.”
...
...
AS FOR ME, I'm glad I am surrounded by so many talented individuals --
coaches, teachers, parents, business leaders, judges and pastors.
They speak out of love. And out of love, they tell me what I need to
hear, whether I like it or not. After all, their reading of the computer
screen is much clearer than mine.
Sure enough, I will encounter
one of them sometime today. I doubt any of them will grab my face mask
and make me run around the field ten times to make me learn my lesson (I
can't do that anymore), but there will be someone who will have a
lesson for me to learn.
I might be tempted to say, "What makes you so sure?" or
I might suggest I would have figured it all out by myself.
But I won't. Instead, I will say the magic words, the only words that
fully appreciate the love someone has for you: "Thanks, I needed that."
Now that makes me a smart man, doesn't it? Go ahead, call me Einstein.