Work with Teens is one of the 4 key priorities for our YMCA. In our plan we want to do monumental and transformational work with our young people. So we need heroes to step forward. As I thought about heroes I came across a definition of hero from Andy Stanley, pastor at North Point Community Church in Atlanta. Stanley says, “a hero is someone who has clarity in a situation. They eliminate the fog. And then they have the irresistible urge to act on that clarity.”
I love the word irresistible. CLARITY – IRRESISTAVBLE URGE TO ACT!
A few summers back I pulled together a group of teens for lunch and we had a focus group on what teens need and want and also discussed the future of the Y. I needed this information as our Y develops a long-range plan. Toward the end of the meeting this young girl asked what my vision was.
I talked about teen only facilities where they could come and hang out with friends and be safe. Where we would have exercise equipment that would be high tech and would encourage them to exercise. I talked about mentors and programs that would teach teens life skills and develop positive assets and build self-esteem.
The teens asked when I thought this would happen. I told them it would be part of our long-range plan so probably in the next 3 or 4 years.
This young girl looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said, Mr. Corder, “I don’t have 3 or 4 years.”
This girl was right; she doesn’t have 3 or 4 years. Many of our teens live in neighborhoods where it’s just common to drop out of high school and have babies at 16. Their lives become more like prisons rather than places where dreams take root. They live in poverty and their neighborhoods are dead or are dying – their hope is dying. Something is wrong with this picture, and these kids need heroes.
We need to have the ability to create first class programs and facilities to these kids. We don’t have three or four years. But we do have our hearts, our minds and our hands..and if we work together we can change the world.
Can you see the clarity? Can you feel this irresistible urge to act?
Go be a hero!
December 23, 2007
November 30, 2007
Office Food
Food around the Y is a major commodity. The other day I had a few sandwiches leftover from a meeting and I put them in the fridge. 20 minutes later when I went to get one, they were gone. I wish I had a camera to see who steals food.
At this time of year friends of the Y always bring food to us. When I take it the office to share, all of a sudden everyone has business near the copy machine. Some people I haven’t seen in 14 or 15 months, but as soon as we display some banana bread they visit the shredder.
Sometimes I will get something really good and I have to debate, “Do I take this to the office and share, or do I put this in my drawer and keep for myself.” Don’t laugh at me if you visit my office and you find Alan and me with white powdered sugar on our face!
My Christmas resolution this year is to share the cookies! In fact, I want just take them to the copy room, but I will walk them around the building and give to the staff who never get cookies. I’ll give them to the members so they’ll take a few more laps around the treadmill!
On second thought, I’ll share the popcorn, but Alan and I may just have to keep a special guard over the cookies.
Make sure if you bring me something, put my name on it and seal it up tight. If not, it will be gone by the time I see the crumbs in the bottom of the tin!
At this time of year friends of the Y always bring food to us. When I take it the office to share, all of a sudden everyone has business near the copy machine. Some people I haven’t seen in 14 or 15 months, but as soon as we display some banana bread they visit the shredder.
Sometimes I will get something really good and I have to debate, “Do I take this to the office and share, or do I put this in my drawer and keep for myself.” Don’t laugh at me if you visit my office and you find Alan and me with white powdered sugar on our face!
My Christmas resolution this year is to share the cookies! In fact, I want just take them to the copy room, but I will walk them around the building and give to the staff who never get cookies. I’ll give them to the members so they’ll take a few more laps around the treadmill!
On second thought, I’ll share the popcorn, but Alan and I may just have to keep a special guard over the cookies.
Make sure if you bring me something, put my name on it and seal it up tight. If not, it will be gone by the time I see the crumbs in the bottom of the tin!
October 29, 2007
A Word to Y Staff
Based on a sermon by Nancy Ortberg
This is about the wonder and the gift of work, and a reminder that when we were kids, and someone asked us, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” we had a magical response for them.
I want to share with you about the possibilities and the gift of work, whether your work is doing the payroll, or whether your work is scheduling life guards. Work is about the creation of value. And no matter what your job is, you have an opportunity to live that out every day. Work gives you an opportunity to make a meaningful and significant contribution to the world. Work gives you an opportunity to live out what it means when Jesus says, “You are salt, and you are light.”
I love when our Y is in a groove, like when we are away at a retreat. We not only accomplish great things, but we become better people in the process, and I believe that is the kind of release that is available in our work.
It is a shame that many people go to work every day where there is no direct correlation between what they do and any meaning or sense of significance. There is no creation of value. For those of us who are Christ-followers, I believe it is incumbent upon us to create YMCAs and departments and work environments where there is what Ortberg refers to as “The Nobility of Service”—the reminder to people that whatever it is that you do, it is a noble thing to serve.
It is the nature of God to serve. We forget sometimes in our jockeying for positions in the politics at work that it is a noble thing to be a servant.
Early on in my career I watched Harry Brace, the late CEO of the Charlotte YMCA. Even though he was from this huge YMCA you never got the sense from him that what you did was any less important than what he did.
Oftentimes, after our YMCA made headlines, he would call me and congratulate me. Sometimes, he would run into somebody from Shelby and he would write me and thank me for doing my job and starting this Y. I saw him talk to Charlotte program directors and thank them by name for doing a job well done. I heard about him picking up the phone and calling a branch staffer and thank her personally for being a part of the team that made a difference in somebody’s life. I bet he knew the names of everybody in the housekeeping department, all those who would come in late at night to clean up and get the facility ready for the next day.
One of the things that I saw Harry do repeatedly—I never saw any other CEO do this—was to visit his people and tell them specifically that how they were doing their job had made his job easier. He would thank them for serving. He had a very quiet way of living among us and reinforcing the nobility of what it meant to serve. He had a great impact on me as I started off in my leadership role.
It doesn’t matter what you do if it’s true that God sees work as the creation of value. Then everything you do matters, whether you go back to work next week and create sports schedules, or manage aerobic instructors, or organize after school, or lead volunteers, or take care of preschoolers. When you serve, you are most accurately reflecting the character and the nature of God. What an amazing transformation would happen in our places of work if those of us went to work today with that first and foremost in our minds.
One of the great days for me in mt career was reading a letter from a woman who a year before was so heavy that she had to be wheeled into the Y in a wheel chair. Her husband would help her change and then wheel her to the lift so she could get in the pool. Today she can walk in and change and get in the pool unassisted more than 100 pounds lighter. And she attributed it to Pat Darty calling her name and encouraging her every time she came to the Y. WOW, just because Pat knew her name.
As leaders, we can go about getting change out of people by doing the typical external motivational things or we can start to tap into the deeper issues of meaning and significance and the nobility of serving other people. I believe it becomes sort of a perpetual motion machine, a ripple or a pay it forward. Because eventually that is what motivates people to want to serve. It sure changed the life of Pat’s friend.
There is nobility in serving that we sometimes lose sight of that adds meaning and significance to work. Part of what happens to us that hurts a servant mentality is we get our scales out, and we start weighing people according to their job titles in a way that compares them and dismisses them. On the heavier side we will put Exempt staff, or a CEO, or an Executive or an Associate Exec. Those people might be more important and have more meaningful work.
Then in our minds, the lighter side of the scale gets filled with other management or serving positions of administrative assistant and receptionist and people behind the scenes. When we do this in our minds and in our behavior, we are operating out of a false economy. We are valuing things very differently than God values them. We would be wise to remember that the person at the front desk, or the person that drives a bus, and the person that runs the Y are all part of meaningful work and part of the nobility of what it means to serve.
The second phrase that Ortberg uses is meaningful work. We should understand what it means to bring meaningful work back into the workplace is to provide the context and the vision, to remind people of the role they play in the overall big picture of what the organization is trying to accomplish.
Another letter I received a few years back was from a woman who noted that she had not spoken to her neighbor in several years. It had been so long that she barely remembered why their friendship had ended. At the start of her aerobic class one day, the instructor had a read a simple bible verse that talked about forgiveness. And she thought about her young son who was criticizing the neighbors at breakfast that morning. She knew that it was her hatred that was poisoning his mind. She left the class and went home and apologized to her neighbor. They are back as best friends and all because of a simple bible verse.
When I think of that story I think about what great leadership is — it is when we remind our people that they don’t just fill slots, but they do work for a greater purpose. We need to be reminded of the incredible responsibility we have, because leaders shape lives. We are stewards of that kind of change.
Our team needs to take very seriously the responsibility that we hold in our hand from a position of prestige and privilege that we can use to learn to serve. When we do that as Christ-followers, we remind ourselves of what Paul says:
You do not work for other people. Whatever you do in your job, do it with all of your heart, because God gave you this work to do. It is God that you work for in an audience of one. (Colossians 3:23-24)
The last thing Ortberg stressed is about the idea of relationships at work. How many people come to work and nobody knows their story or much about them? They’re just viewed as cogs in a wheel in sort of an invisible way. As Christ-followers, one of the ways that we can create value in our workplaces and build relationships as a primary way out of which we lead is to provide a place where people can be known.
The other day I had an appointment in Rutherford County and I found myself near one of our after school sites. I quickly called our director to get the names of the staff working. Instantly I could see how important it made them feel when I called them by name. On a fluke of an idea, I had made two employees feel valued. Just knowing the names of our staff may seem insignificant yet in reality that small gesture can be monumental!
Another phrase Ortberg uses that will help us figure out how to do this relational piece is the “dignity of people.”
One of my most embarrassing days was while sitting at my desk, pounding on my computer, preparing for an appointment, I heard a staff person come into my office. As they asked for a second I stuck my hand in the air while I finished my thought. They said they would come back later. In that one sentence I could hear the pain and anguish in their voice. As I chased them down the hall and begged for them to come back. As I begged for her to give me another chance. As I begged for them to forgive me. Eventually I heard a story filled with pain and heart ache. And I heard this unbelievable desire to be listened to and valued.
We need to remind ourselves that everybody is made in the image of God. That automatically bestows on each person great dignity that you and I sometimes miss. As Christ-followers, we must move towards people whom we work with recognizing that they have great dignity as human beings.
Every one of us who is a Christ-follower is called to take seriously our responsibilities of creating meaning and significance for ourselves and for other people when we go to work.
A few years ago, we had a slogan; there were signs in the lobby that said simply, Dreams Begin Here.
There is only so much we can do in here to be “salt and light.” You are already sitting next to little pieces of salt and light. We come together for a very important purpose. We come together corporately at retreats and meetings to do what we can’t do apart: to see each other, to feel community in the room, to be together. But when we leave, I think that that is really when dreams begin—when we move out into our jobs and communities and ask God to go with us in the creation of value.
So when you go to work this morning and whatever it is you go to do—whether it’s today or tomorrow, when you go to work—whether you work at Dover or at GWU, whether you work at the corporate office or the Girls Club, whether you’re at the Ruby Hunt YMCA or at Kings Mountain, —wherever you go to work, if what God says about the creation of value is true, work is a gift. You can show up at work with a completely different attitude, convinced that over time you will convince other people of the meaning and significance that sits inside the role that they do, and you will become sure of the great relational connectedness you can offer in the workplace. That is the true meaning, I think, of what it means to be Salt and light.
This is about the wonder and the gift of work, and a reminder that when we were kids, and someone asked us, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” we had a magical response for them.
I want to share with you about the possibilities and the gift of work, whether your work is doing the payroll, or whether your work is scheduling life guards. Work is about the creation of value. And no matter what your job is, you have an opportunity to live that out every day. Work gives you an opportunity to make a meaningful and significant contribution to the world. Work gives you an opportunity to live out what it means when Jesus says, “You are salt, and you are light.”
I love when our Y is in a groove, like when we are away at a retreat. We not only accomplish great things, but we become better people in the process, and I believe that is the kind of release that is available in our work.
It is a shame that many people go to work every day where there is no direct correlation between what they do and any meaning or sense of significance. There is no creation of value. For those of us who are Christ-followers, I believe it is incumbent upon us to create YMCAs and departments and work environments where there is what Ortberg refers to as “The Nobility of Service”—the reminder to people that whatever it is that you do, it is a noble thing to serve.
It is the nature of God to serve. We forget sometimes in our jockeying for positions in the politics at work that it is a noble thing to be a servant.
Early on in my career I watched Harry Brace, the late CEO of the Charlotte YMCA. Even though he was from this huge YMCA you never got the sense from him that what you did was any less important than what he did.
Oftentimes, after our YMCA made headlines, he would call me and congratulate me. Sometimes, he would run into somebody from Shelby and he would write me and thank me for doing my job and starting this Y. I saw him talk to Charlotte program directors and thank them by name for doing a job well done. I heard about him picking up the phone and calling a branch staffer and thank her personally for being a part of the team that made a difference in somebody’s life. I bet he knew the names of everybody in the housekeeping department, all those who would come in late at night to clean up and get the facility ready for the next day.
One of the things that I saw Harry do repeatedly—I never saw any other CEO do this—was to visit his people and tell them specifically that how they were doing their job had made his job easier. He would thank them for serving. He had a very quiet way of living among us and reinforcing the nobility of what it meant to serve. He had a great impact on me as I started off in my leadership role.
It doesn’t matter what you do if it’s true that God sees work as the creation of value. Then everything you do matters, whether you go back to work next week and create sports schedules, or manage aerobic instructors, or organize after school, or lead volunteers, or take care of preschoolers. When you serve, you are most accurately reflecting the character and the nature of God. What an amazing transformation would happen in our places of work if those of us went to work today with that first and foremost in our minds.
One of the great days for me in mt career was reading a letter from a woman who a year before was so heavy that she had to be wheeled into the Y in a wheel chair. Her husband would help her change and then wheel her to the lift so she could get in the pool. Today she can walk in and change and get in the pool unassisted more than 100 pounds lighter. And she attributed it to Pat Darty calling her name and encouraging her every time she came to the Y. WOW, just because Pat knew her name.
As leaders, we can go about getting change out of people by doing the typical external motivational things or we can start to tap into the deeper issues of meaning and significance and the nobility of serving other people. I believe it becomes sort of a perpetual motion machine, a ripple or a pay it forward. Because eventually that is what motivates people to want to serve. It sure changed the life of Pat’s friend.
There is nobility in serving that we sometimes lose sight of that adds meaning and significance to work. Part of what happens to us that hurts a servant mentality is we get our scales out, and we start weighing people according to their job titles in a way that compares them and dismisses them. On the heavier side we will put Exempt staff, or a CEO, or an Executive or an Associate Exec. Those people might be more important and have more meaningful work.
Then in our minds, the lighter side of the scale gets filled with other management or serving positions of administrative assistant and receptionist and people behind the scenes. When we do this in our minds and in our behavior, we are operating out of a false economy. We are valuing things very differently than God values them. We would be wise to remember that the person at the front desk, or the person that drives a bus, and the person that runs the Y are all part of meaningful work and part of the nobility of what it means to serve.
The second phrase that Ortberg uses is meaningful work. We should understand what it means to bring meaningful work back into the workplace is to provide the context and the vision, to remind people of the role they play in the overall big picture of what the organization is trying to accomplish.
Another letter I received a few years back was from a woman who noted that she had not spoken to her neighbor in several years. It had been so long that she barely remembered why their friendship had ended. At the start of her aerobic class one day, the instructor had a read a simple bible verse that talked about forgiveness. And she thought about her young son who was criticizing the neighbors at breakfast that morning. She knew that it was her hatred that was poisoning his mind. She left the class and went home and apologized to her neighbor. They are back as best friends and all because of a simple bible verse.
When I think of that story I think about what great leadership is — it is when we remind our people that they don’t just fill slots, but they do work for a greater purpose. We need to be reminded of the incredible responsibility we have, because leaders shape lives. We are stewards of that kind of change.
Our team needs to take very seriously the responsibility that we hold in our hand from a position of prestige and privilege that we can use to learn to serve. When we do that as Christ-followers, we remind ourselves of what Paul says:
You do not work for other people. Whatever you do in your job, do it with all of your heart, because God gave you this work to do. It is God that you work for in an audience of one. (Colossians 3:23-24)
The last thing Ortberg stressed is about the idea of relationships at work. How many people come to work and nobody knows their story or much about them? They’re just viewed as cogs in a wheel in sort of an invisible way. As Christ-followers, one of the ways that we can create value in our workplaces and build relationships as a primary way out of which we lead is to provide a place where people can be known.
The other day I had an appointment in Rutherford County and I found myself near one of our after school sites. I quickly called our director to get the names of the staff working. Instantly I could see how important it made them feel when I called them by name. On a fluke of an idea, I had made two employees feel valued. Just knowing the names of our staff may seem insignificant yet in reality that small gesture can be monumental!
Another phrase Ortberg uses that will help us figure out how to do this relational piece is the “dignity of people.”
One of my most embarrassing days was while sitting at my desk, pounding on my computer, preparing for an appointment, I heard a staff person come into my office. As they asked for a second I stuck my hand in the air while I finished my thought. They said they would come back later. In that one sentence I could hear the pain and anguish in their voice. As I chased them down the hall and begged for them to come back. As I begged for her to give me another chance. As I begged for them to forgive me. Eventually I heard a story filled with pain and heart ache. And I heard this unbelievable desire to be listened to and valued.
We need to remind ourselves that everybody is made in the image of God. That automatically bestows on each person great dignity that you and I sometimes miss. As Christ-followers, we must move towards people whom we work with recognizing that they have great dignity as human beings.
Every one of us who is a Christ-follower is called to take seriously our responsibilities of creating meaning and significance for ourselves and for other people when we go to work.
A few years ago, we had a slogan; there were signs in the lobby that said simply, Dreams Begin Here.
There is only so much we can do in here to be “salt and light.” You are already sitting next to little pieces of salt and light. We come together for a very important purpose. We come together corporately at retreats and meetings to do what we can’t do apart: to see each other, to feel community in the room, to be together. But when we leave, I think that that is really when dreams begin—when we move out into our jobs and communities and ask God to go with us in the creation of value.
So when you go to work this morning and whatever it is you go to do—whether it’s today or tomorrow, when you go to work—whether you work at Dover or at GWU, whether you work at the corporate office or the Girls Club, whether you’re at the Ruby Hunt YMCA or at Kings Mountain, —wherever you go to work, if what God says about the creation of value is true, work is a gift. You can show up at work with a completely different attitude, convinced that over time you will convince other people of the meaning and significance that sits inside the role that they do, and you will become sure of the great relational connectedness you can offer in the workplace. That is the true meaning, I think, of what it means to be Salt and light.
October 19, 2007
So Cal Saturday - It is going to be a long day!
Let me take you back to 1973. I was 9 years old and I had just spent the fall watching the Notre Dame football high light show on Sunday mornings before I went to church. I can still hear the late Lindsay Nelson’s voice say, “And now to further action.”
It was a Saturday afternoon in the Spring of 1973. My father had taken me and several of my friends to swim at the Greensboro Central YMCA. As we were leaving, the TV in the lobby was playing the UCLA vs. Notre Dame basketball game. My dad said, “we might want to stop and watch the end of this game. Notre Dame just might upset UCLA.” The UCLA Bruins had won 88 straight basketball games. And this my friends, was how my sports marriage to Notre Dame sports was born during the last ten minutes of that game. Screaming and cheering wildly at the TV in the lobby, my father could only chuckle or note to passersby, “Do these kids not have parents?”
When Notre Dame won that afternoon, I must have practiced throwing the ball in the air like John Shumate 10000 times. I wanted to die my socks Green and Yellow. I asked for Green carnations for my lapel for Sunday Church. I quietly aspired for my nick name to be Digger.
Like a smoldering volcano, my love for all things ND lay dormant for many years. There was no request for conversion to Catholicism. No, special requests for the pope. And I promise you there were many things to go to confession over but to this day they stay locked in the vault.
I suffered under the Gerry Faust years. I anguished when they ran off Digger and I cheered for a few years the acquisition of Lou Holtz. Lou Holtz came about in my college days and my roommates thought it would be funny to burn all the ND memorabilia off my door. That day stays in the vault.
I became a true ND fan. Pulling for basketball as well as football. In the advent of the internet even looking at baseball, hockey, women’s basketball, etc. Could I name my first born Muffet? Then the movie Rudy came out and I felt in some way that the script was for me. The music, the tradition, the culture, the aura of all things Notre Dame. Hard to believe that the small town southern Baptist bred wished he was born red headed with the last name of O’Shannon or something.
Today I am a 42 year old man with one hobby; Notre Dame. I don’t ask for much but please let me see my football games every Saturday and the occasional basketball game.
As I reflect, I almost broke off the engagement to my wife, for during the national championship year of 1988, she made me go to dinner with her parents [promising to tape the USC vs. ND game.] Later that evening as we returned for the evening my future brother in law met me at the door screaming the results of the game. “I am sorry April, but the wedding is over! Oh, and I have to kill your brother Joe.”
We play Southern Cal on Saturday. I hope we keep it under 45 points. It is not going to be pretty but you have to love them during the tough times. Love hopes all things and endures all things. Love never fails.
Go Irish!
It was a Saturday afternoon in the Spring of 1973. My father had taken me and several of my friends to swim at the Greensboro Central YMCA. As we were leaving, the TV in the lobby was playing the UCLA vs. Notre Dame basketball game. My dad said, “we might want to stop and watch the end of this game. Notre Dame just might upset UCLA.” The UCLA Bruins had won 88 straight basketball games. And this my friends, was how my sports marriage to Notre Dame sports was born during the last ten minutes of that game. Screaming and cheering wildly at the TV in the lobby, my father could only chuckle or note to passersby, “Do these kids not have parents?”
When Notre Dame won that afternoon, I must have practiced throwing the ball in the air like John Shumate 10000 times. I wanted to die my socks Green and Yellow. I asked for Green carnations for my lapel for Sunday Church. I quietly aspired for my nick name to be Digger.
Like a smoldering volcano, my love for all things ND lay dormant for many years. There was no request for conversion to Catholicism. No, special requests for the pope. And I promise you there were many things to go to confession over but to this day they stay locked in the vault.
I suffered under the Gerry Faust years. I anguished when they ran off Digger and I cheered for a few years the acquisition of Lou Holtz. Lou Holtz came about in my college days and my roommates thought it would be funny to burn all the ND memorabilia off my door. That day stays in the vault.
I became a true ND fan. Pulling for basketball as well as football. In the advent of the internet even looking at baseball, hockey, women’s basketball, etc. Could I name my first born Muffet? Then the movie Rudy came out and I felt in some way that the script was for me. The music, the tradition, the culture, the aura of all things Notre Dame. Hard to believe that the small town southern Baptist bred wished he was born red headed with the last name of O’Shannon or something.
Today I am a 42 year old man with one hobby; Notre Dame. I don’t ask for much but please let me see my football games every Saturday and the occasional basketball game.
As I reflect, I almost broke off the engagement to my wife, for during the national championship year of 1988, she made me go to dinner with her parents [promising to tape the USC vs. ND game.] Later that evening as we returned for the evening my future brother in law met me at the door screaming the results of the game. “I am sorry April, but the wedding is over! Oh, and I have to kill your brother Joe.”
We play Southern Cal on Saturday. I hope we keep it under 45 points. It is not going to be pretty but you have to love them during the tough times. Love hopes all things and endures all things. Love never fails.
Go Irish!
September 24, 2007
My Losing Season
I want all of the Fresh and Sophs on the Notre Dame football team to read this!!!
I was changing after PE to go to Freshman English when Coach Long, the boys Varsity basketball coach asked me to play on the varsity that evening. “You’re the only kid in this school that can look one way and pass the other,” Long laughed. I gave him this calm look and response of OK when in reality my heart was beating out of my chest.
You see that night Mauldin High School, my alma mater, was to play Hillcrest High School our archrival. Mauldin High School was the worst 4A basketball school in the state, and Hillcrest had some of the greatest athletes ever produced in the early 80’s. This night…the night that the 14-year-old freshman would play his first varsity basketball game…this would be the BIGGEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!
The game was also important because we would play in front of actual people. Mauldin High basketball games were typically attended by about 16 or 17 parents, two secretaries taking tickets at the door, a maintenance man and if we were lucky we might also have 8 to 10 students at the games. 35 people max for home games. The Girls basketball team wouldn’t even stay to watch us play. Our girlfriends wouldn’t attend games. We played in a virtual morgue.
But when we played Hillcrest, we would have 2035 people; 2000 Hillcrest fans and 35 Mauldin people! And this was for our home game at Mauldin!
I couldn’t concentrate in class the rest of the day. I don’t even remember if I told my best friends about being asked to play for the Varsity. I do remember calling my dad and feeling his tremendous sense of pride through the telephone lines!
Coach said to be at the game by 7pm. I had my jock on at 3:30! This was the BIGGEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!
I remember being so nervous that I couldn’t sit out and watch the girl’s game. I went straight to the dressing room to change, stretch and mentally prepare my self for the biggest night of my life. We were playing Hillcrest High School, and if we could win, and if I could hit the game winning shot, and if the crowd (all 35) would rush the court and lift me on their shoulders, and if Tara Estes the senior cheerleader would just know who I was. Life would be perfect!”
I thought it odd that the rest of the team was not nervous. Here it was after halftime of the girl’s game and I was still the only player dressed and ready in the locker room. “Maybe when you are a senior you just don’t get nervous before big games,” I thought to myself. But I was about to throw up. I don’t know what would have come up since I was too scared to eat all day!
Slowly players started to drift in and change. I had found a corner stall and had changed and was stretching and doing some ball handling exercises to get warmed up and loose for the biggest night of my life! I noticed that the players turned on music. They sang, they danced, they talked about what girls were putting out and who was going to get some from who that weekend! A few guys actually were taking a deck of cards and flipping individual cards at a baseball cap. “Maybe this is how you prepare for the biggest game of your life when you are a senior. You just aren’t scared,” I thought as I sweated through my uniform and warm up suit like I was in the middle of a sauna!
Coach Long walked in for the pre-game talk. It was his usual standard Hillcrest spiel. “Let’s keep it within 40 boys. Whatever you do fellas don’t piss ‘em off. Hell they look bigger and meaner than last year!” Coach Long deadpanned.
It wasn’t exactly “the one for the gipper” talk that I expected from my first varsity basketball game.
Coach Frost the JV coach sat beside me during the talk and leaned over and asked if I was nervous.
“Naw,” I replied with a wry grin.
“Hell boy, I couldn’t drive a nail up your ass you look so tight,” He laughed.
I sat there astonished trying to figure out why he wanted to drive a nail up my ass!
Anyway….
We formed a line and rolled on to the Mauldin High School court to the rousing ovation of 35 people!!! The cheerleaders went on a soda break!
I soaked it all in. Trying not to look at Thomas Dendy and James Seawright on the Hillcrest team. Two of the biggest studs I have ever known. Both went on to be All American football players at South Carolina. Baron Boyd was also on that team and he was a friend of mine from middle school. He was 6 foot tall at age 13 and never got taller. Yet that night I still looked at him like he was the same giant 13 year old whooping our butts back in middle school!
I was the perfect player. Right handed lay ups, left handed lay ups, I stretched and I cheered on my teammates. I remember seeing the pride on my fathers face as I made the lay up and went to the rebounding line. I remember trying to push my chest out a little as I strutted by Tara Estes!
I also remember a couple of seniors who would try to hit their lay ups by shooting the ball behind their back. One even tried to drop kick the ball in. As one guy walked back to get in line he would stick his hand out so you could slap him “5”, when I reached for him he hit me in the nuts!
“Maybe this is how you keep your composure as a senior when you are ready to play the biggest game of your life,” I groaned as I tried to recapture my breath.
I remember looking at the game clock and with two minutes to go before tip off, Lee Harris, our captain and really the only true basketball player on this team, called us together and said for all of us to follow him to the locker room. We filed off the courts like little ducklings following their mother and I was the last waddling duck in the rear.
Coach Long stood up and mouthed, “What the Hell are you guys doing?” I just shrugged my shoulders and followed like the good freshman I was. I wondered if we did this every game! “Lee Harris is going to give us the gipper speech and we will run back out to the court and kick the crap out of Hillcrest High School.”
But as we got to the corner of the gym, a senior (who shall remain nameless) decided it was time to initiate the freshman. So he pantsed me!
They pantsed me. That means they took my warm up pants and gym shorts and pulled them to the floor. Now I am a YMCA director’s son. I have been in locker rooms all my life. No tighty whiteys for me. No boxers on this boy! I was wearing a jock under my shorts. So there I was in the corner of the gym, in front of 2035 family friends and neighbors, in my entire beautiful white-butted splendor.
At Maudlin High the gym doors opened and you walked straight across the hall into the locker room. I remember falling into the double doors. Trying to pull my pants up and fighting the tears back from my red face and puffed up eyes. There were the culprits with their huge smiles waiting for me.
Out of nowhere came this fist and it hit one of the jerks right in the nose. Blood splattered everywhere. And for the next 45 seconds, there were 24 arms and legs and twelve bodies piled on top of each other in the middle of the locker room fighting, kicking, cussing, and biting! Of course I was still at the side of the fight because I had my pants up to about my thighs at that point. Tears streaming down my face. I think I even had that stuttering sound you make when you are crying and trying to catch your breath.
Coach Long came busting through the doors, “What the Hell is going on in here.”
Lee Harris popped up from the melee and yelled, “Get out of here coach we are having a team meeting!” And Coach Long turned 180 and walked out.
As I reflect on that moment I would estimate we are at 1 minute prior to the tip off of the biggest game of our life.
Players fell off the pile and staggered to their dressing stalls. They tried to pull themselves together as Lee Harris stood in the middle of the locker room. “This game means more to me than anything else in this world. Don’t leave this locker room unless you feel the same way!”
Lee flipped me a towel to dry my eyes and then he spun me around and we walked back out on the floor, the first two out the door. One by one the team came back out. What we must have looked like. Uniforms stretched, blood on some of us. My tear filled eyes! Coach Long’s confused look! I just have to laugh about it all now.
Now it would be nice to say that we went out and we beat Hillcrest High. We didn’t win but we did play the game of our lives and lost by about 6 points. We even had the lead late in the game.
The end of the story though comes several months later at graduation. Lee Harris was a friend of my older brother Chris’ and on graduation night he came over to the house before they went out to party. At some point I was with Lee Harris with no one around.
“Lee, I never thanked you for taking up for me at the Hillcrest game,” I stammered with my head probably pointed straight into the ground. “I hope when I am a senior that I have the guts to throw the punch and make the speech.”
Lee Harris looked over to me and without even a smirk he replied, “You don’t have to be the senior to do that Cam, you just have to care.”
I have taken that lesson with me every day of my life. The embarrassment of having my pants pulled down is really insignificant compared to the powerful words of Lee Harris. In fact, many teammates probably don’t even remember why we were fighting, they just remember the punch and the speech.
It is an amazing fuel; knowing that you can impact and influence people with your personal burning passion. You don’t have to be the hometown boy, or from the richest family or one of the old established patriarchs of the town. If you want to make a difference in the lives of the people around you, you have to care. And you have care so much that you know when to throw the punch and make the speech.
I was changing after PE to go to Freshman English when Coach Long, the boys Varsity basketball coach asked me to play on the varsity that evening. “You’re the only kid in this school that can look one way and pass the other,” Long laughed. I gave him this calm look and response of OK when in reality my heart was beating out of my chest.
You see that night Mauldin High School, my alma mater, was to play Hillcrest High School our archrival. Mauldin High School was the worst 4A basketball school in the state, and Hillcrest had some of the greatest athletes ever produced in the early 80’s. This night…the night that the 14-year-old freshman would play his first varsity basketball game…this would be the BIGGEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!
The game was also important because we would play in front of actual people. Mauldin High basketball games were typically attended by about 16 or 17 parents, two secretaries taking tickets at the door, a maintenance man and if we were lucky we might also have 8 to 10 students at the games. 35 people max for home games. The Girls basketball team wouldn’t even stay to watch us play. Our girlfriends wouldn’t attend games. We played in a virtual morgue.
But when we played Hillcrest, we would have 2035 people; 2000 Hillcrest fans and 35 Mauldin people! And this was for our home game at Mauldin!
I couldn’t concentrate in class the rest of the day. I don’t even remember if I told my best friends about being asked to play for the Varsity. I do remember calling my dad and feeling his tremendous sense of pride through the telephone lines!
Coach said to be at the game by 7pm. I had my jock on at 3:30! This was the BIGGEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!
I remember being so nervous that I couldn’t sit out and watch the girl’s game. I went straight to the dressing room to change, stretch and mentally prepare my self for the biggest night of my life. We were playing Hillcrest High School, and if we could win, and if I could hit the game winning shot, and if the crowd (all 35) would rush the court and lift me on their shoulders, and if Tara Estes the senior cheerleader would just know who I was. Life would be perfect!”
I thought it odd that the rest of the team was not nervous. Here it was after halftime of the girl’s game and I was still the only player dressed and ready in the locker room. “Maybe when you are a senior you just don’t get nervous before big games,” I thought to myself. But I was about to throw up. I don’t know what would have come up since I was too scared to eat all day!
Slowly players started to drift in and change. I had found a corner stall and had changed and was stretching and doing some ball handling exercises to get warmed up and loose for the biggest night of my life! I noticed that the players turned on music. They sang, they danced, they talked about what girls were putting out and who was going to get some from who that weekend! A few guys actually were taking a deck of cards and flipping individual cards at a baseball cap. “Maybe this is how you prepare for the biggest game of your life when you are a senior. You just aren’t scared,” I thought as I sweated through my uniform and warm up suit like I was in the middle of a sauna!
Coach Long walked in for the pre-game talk. It was his usual standard Hillcrest spiel. “Let’s keep it within 40 boys. Whatever you do fellas don’t piss ‘em off. Hell they look bigger and meaner than last year!” Coach Long deadpanned.
It wasn’t exactly “the one for the gipper” talk that I expected from my first varsity basketball game.
Coach Frost the JV coach sat beside me during the talk and leaned over and asked if I was nervous.
“Naw,” I replied with a wry grin.
“Hell boy, I couldn’t drive a nail up your ass you look so tight,” He laughed.
I sat there astonished trying to figure out why he wanted to drive a nail up my ass!
Anyway….
We formed a line and rolled on to the Mauldin High School court to the rousing ovation of 35 people!!! The cheerleaders went on a soda break!
I soaked it all in. Trying not to look at Thomas Dendy and James Seawright on the Hillcrest team. Two of the biggest studs I have ever known. Both went on to be All American football players at South Carolina. Baron Boyd was also on that team and he was a friend of mine from middle school. He was 6 foot tall at age 13 and never got taller. Yet that night I still looked at him like he was the same giant 13 year old whooping our butts back in middle school!
I was the perfect player. Right handed lay ups, left handed lay ups, I stretched and I cheered on my teammates. I remember seeing the pride on my fathers face as I made the lay up and went to the rebounding line. I remember trying to push my chest out a little as I strutted by Tara Estes!
I also remember a couple of seniors who would try to hit their lay ups by shooting the ball behind their back. One even tried to drop kick the ball in. As one guy walked back to get in line he would stick his hand out so you could slap him “5”, when I reached for him he hit me in the nuts!
“Maybe this is how you keep your composure as a senior when you are ready to play the biggest game of your life,” I groaned as I tried to recapture my breath.
I remember looking at the game clock and with two minutes to go before tip off, Lee Harris, our captain and really the only true basketball player on this team, called us together and said for all of us to follow him to the locker room. We filed off the courts like little ducklings following their mother and I was the last waddling duck in the rear.
Coach Long stood up and mouthed, “What the Hell are you guys doing?” I just shrugged my shoulders and followed like the good freshman I was. I wondered if we did this every game! “Lee Harris is going to give us the gipper speech and we will run back out to the court and kick the crap out of Hillcrest High School.”
But as we got to the corner of the gym, a senior (who shall remain nameless) decided it was time to initiate the freshman. So he pantsed me!
They pantsed me. That means they took my warm up pants and gym shorts and pulled them to the floor. Now I am a YMCA director’s son. I have been in locker rooms all my life. No tighty whiteys for me. No boxers on this boy! I was wearing a jock under my shorts. So there I was in the corner of the gym, in front of 2035 family friends and neighbors, in my entire beautiful white-butted splendor.
At Maudlin High the gym doors opened and you walked straight across the hall into the locker room. I remember falling into the double doors. Trying to pull my pants up and fighting the tears back from my red face and puffed up eyes. There were the culprits with their huge smiles waiting for me.
Out of nowhere came this fist and it hit one of the jerks right in the nose. Blood splattered everywhere. And for the next 45 seconds, there were 24 arms and legs and twelve bodies piled on top of each other in the middle of the locker room fighting, kicking, cussing, and biting! Of course I was still at the side of the fight because I had my pants up to about my thighs at that point. Tears streaming down my face. I think I even had that stuttering sound you make when you are crying and trying to catch your breath.
Coach Long came busting through the doors, “What the Hell is going on in here.”
Lee Harris popped up from the melee and yelled, “Get out of here coach we are having a team meeting!” And Coach Long turned 180 and walked out.
As I reflect on that moment I would estimate we are at 1 minute prior to the tip off of the biggest game of our life.
Players fell off the pile and staggered to their dressing stalls. They tried to pull themselves together as Lee Harris stood in the middle of the locker room. “This game means more to me than anything else in this world. Don’t leave this locker room unless you feel the same way!”
Lee flipped me a towel to dry my eyes and then he spun me around and we walked back out on the floor, the first two out the door. One by one the team came back out. What we must have looked like. Uniforms stretched, blood on some of us. My tear filled eyes! Coach Long’s confused look! I just have to laugh about it all now.
Now it would be nice to say that we went out and we beat Hillcrest High. We didn’t win but we did play the game of our lives and lost by about 6 points. We even had the lead late in the game.
The end of the story though comes several months later at graduation. Lee Harris was a friend of my older brother Chris’ and on graduation night he came over to the house before they went out to party. At some point I was with Lee Harris with no one around.
“Lee, I never thanked you for taking up for me at the Hillcrest game,” I stammered with my head probably pointed straight into the ground. “I hope when I am a senior that I have the guts to throw the punch and make the speech.”
Lee Harris looked over to me and without even a smirk he replied, “You don’t have to be the senior to do that Cam, you just have to care.”
I have taken that lesson with me every day of my life. The embarrassment of having my pants pulled down is really insignificant compared to the powerful words of Lee Harris. In fact, many teammates probably don’t even remember why we were fighting, they just remember the punch and the speech.
It is an amazing fuel; knowing that you can impact and influence people with your personal burning passion. You don’t have to be the hometown boy, or from the richest family or one of the old established patriarchs of the town. If you want to make a difference in the lives of the people around you, you have to care. And you have care so much that you know when to throw the punch and make the speech.
August 28, 2007
Hokie Nation
I picked up an old magazine at the Y the other day and it was about the Virginia Tech shooting. It didn’t surprise me when the article described Cho, the Va. Tech shooter, as having nothing in his eyes, no soul to see, complete emptiness. Whoever said that a person’s eyes were the windows to their soul, was definitely right on point!
All my life people have commented on my eyes. Mostly how blood shot they are or how I need to sleep more because of the dark circles. Occasionally someone will comment on the shade of green. Almost Notre Dame Green!
I remember the first times my kids opened their eyes to look at this crazy new world. My faced pressed close to theirs trying desperately to find some spiritual connection - trying to see if I could see their future. But all I saw was perfection. God gave them to me perfect on day one, and he gave me a lifetime to screw them up! Let’s just hope that the bar for screw up is raised so high by me that they turn out relatively unscathed.
When I go to weddings (It is a sign of aging when your friend’s kids start getting married) I love to watch the eyes of the groom as the bride finally steps into the door way to walk down the aisle. I look for those “Big Ole’ Saucers and a skipped heart beat. It would be easy to comment more on his eyes by inserting some man joke here, but I will let you create your own anecdote. When I saw my bride it was a look of “How could I possibly be this lucky!” (I should get major points for that so make sure you comment to April how sweet I am)
My job at the Y allows me to witness the great looks of a kid getting his first basket in basketball. It is a monumental jog back down court with a look of invincibility and scanning the sidelines to hopefully get the glowing nod of approval from mom or dad. Or its that look as a kid stands on first base and his coach pats him on the butt because he just got his first hit. It is unbelievable to see him run to first base without even touching the ground.
We also see the looks on kid’s faces when the soccer ball squirts through their hands and they give up the game winning goal. It is also the look of a teenager when they tell you that they got cut from the cheerleading squad. How easily our lives go from the thrill of victory to the agony of defeat.
The eyes will always tell us a story. From I am tired to I think I am in love to why don’t you get a breath mint! The eyes are the windows to our souls.
How do eyes go from, wow look at this new world (birth) to mass murderer (Va. Tech)?
A study by the SEARCH INSTITUTE proves that 50% of the kids in our middle schools have little or no connection with an adult in the school. No teacher, no secretary, no bus driver, not even the lunch lady knows anything more about them than their name! So when we ask how any kid can get this disconnected we need to realize how early it can start. We must realize that Cho went to a Christian Church and was in youth group and memorized bible verses, yet he still became isolated.
I don’t think we as adults understand the value of our eyes and our hearts and our connection with the large circle of kids that are in our lives.
I cringe when I hear parents cheer a miscue by a kid on another team. I once had a parent chastise me for applauding a great play by the goalie on the other team – “what are you doing?” she yelled.
How many times when we get in the car after a game and our kid wells up in tears because he just missed free throws to lose their game do we sit and say, “shake it off. When I was your age I missed free throws too. In fact if you really want to hear how I missed many of life’s free throws, we need to get a tall milk shake because this is going to take awhile.”
Our kids need to take note of our ability to admit we are fallible. (Not foulable because I never miss free throws but fallible) And my fellow parents, as we share our past goofs with our kids, take the time to listen to their fears. Make sure we give them time to connect to us. I know it is hard work to develop the skills to listen to our kids and the other young people around us, but we must fight to connect!
Some of the greatest parents in the world have the ability to really listen. These parents are available, they’re not judgmental, and they care. Often I guess parenting is less about all that we provide our kids, but rather a quiet listening ear.
And remember, it’s in the eyes. What color are your kid’s eyes?
All my life people have commented on my eyes. Mostly how blood shot they are or how I need to sleep more because of the dark circles. Occasionally someone will comment on the shade of green. Almost Notre Dame Green!
I remember the first times my kids opened their eyes to look at this crazy new world. My faced pressed close to theirs trying desperately to find some spiritual connection - trying to see if I could see their future. But all I saw was perfection. God gave them to me perfect on day one, and he gave me a lifetime to screw them up! Let’s just hope that the bar for screw up is raised so high by me that they turn out relatively unscathed.
When I go to weddings (It is a sign of aging when your friend’s kids start getting married) I love to watch the eyes of the groom as the bride finally steps into the door way to walk down the aisle. I look for those “Big Ole’ Saucers and a skipped heart beat. It would be easy to comment more on his eyes by inserting some man joke here, but I will let you create your own anecdote. When I saw my bride it was a look of “How could I possibly be this lucky!” (I should get major points for that so make sure you comment to April how sweet I am)
My job at the Y allows me to witness the great looks of a kid getting his first basket in basketball. It is a monumental jog back down court with a look of invincibility and scanning the sidelines to hopefully get the glowing nod of approval from mom or dad. Or its that look as a kid stands on first base and his coach pats him on the butt because he just got his first hit. It is unbelievable to see him run to first base without even touching the ground.
We also see the looks on kid’s faces when the soccer ball squirts through their hands and they give up the game winning goal. It is also the look of a teenager when they tell you that they got cut from the cheerleading squad. How easily our lives go from the thrill of victory to the agony of defeat.
The eyes will always tell us a story. From I am tired to I think I am in love to why don’t you get a breath mint! The eyes are the windows to our souls.
How do eyes go from, wow look at this new world (birth) to mass murderer (Va. Tech)?
A study by the SEARCH INSTITUTE proves that 50% of the kids in our middle schools have little or no connection with an adult in the school. No teacher, no secretary, no bus driver, not even the lunch lady knows anything more about them than their name! So when we ask how any kid can get this disconnected we need to realize how early it can start. We must realize that Cho went to a Christian Church and was in youth group and memorized bible verses, yet he still became isolated.
I don’t think we as adults understand the value of our eyes and our hearts and our connection with the large circle of kids that are in our lives.
I cringe when I hear parents cheer a miscue by a kid on another team. I once had a parent chastise me for applauding a great play by the goalie on the other team – “what are you doing?” she yelled.
How many times when we get in the car after a game and our kid wells up in tears because he just missed free throws to lose their game do we sit and say, “shake it off. When I was your age I missed free throws too. In fact if you really want to hear how I missed many of life’s free throws, we need to get a tall milk shake because this is going to take awhile.”
Our kids need to take note of our ability to admit we are fallible. (Not foulable because I never miss free throws but fallible) And my fellow parents, as we share our past goofs with our kids, take the time to listen to their fears. Make sure we give them time to connect to us. I know it is hard work to develop the skills to listen to our kids and the other young people around us, but we must fight to connect!
Some of the greatest parents in the world have the ability to really listen. These parents are available, they’re not judgmental, and they care. Often I guess parenting is less about all that we provide our kids, but rather a quiet listening ear.
And remember, it’s in the eyes. What color are your kid’s eyes?
August 8, 2007
The West Wing
I love the TV show West Wing. Ryanne (my daughter) and I watched a few episodes this weekend from the first season. This is still one of my all time favorite shows, even though it actually slipped in the last two years of production.
In the early years it was about the relationships between these noble people who worked for the President and served the country for this great historical cause. Reality though is that somehow after probably a billion dollars was spent by Bush and Kerry to smash each other, (and today’s candidates will top that,) all elections today are about serving to get re-elected. And the White House hopefuls serve to get elected! SUCH NOBILITY!
That makes perfect sense because that is exactly why most people vote today - To defeat the incumbent or to keep their person in office. Why couldn’t people go to the poles because of their civic duty and to have their voice heard on whom their leader is? Can decisions strictly be made because of sincere ideologies of genuine people. Nope, our votes typically are based on left or right - Democrat or Republican.
But I digress,
West Wing like other good shows always ruin themselves by creating too much drama. ER was the worst. The first two years were great because they centered on the people and the relationships around the ER. Then, and I’ve timed it, every 8 minutes the doors would blow open and an emergency would fly in and create this chaos. And not just a typical emergency, but it would be a busload of teenage cheerleaders on their way to build a house for the Habitat for Humanity. Or someone would come in with a 3-inch bomb taped to his or her chest that could blow up the entire state of Illinois. Too much drama! My wife would always chastise me to relax, that the show was called ER!
SO, in its last years, the West Wing all of a sudden became terrorist attacks, wars, bombs, deaths, kidnappings etc. Every episode. No more relationships.
I like to imagine my own life and draw parallels to this show. (The Y and the West Wing.) I am the President and I think everyone should stand when I enter the room. But that same kind of respect from Jeb Bartlett’s staff doesn’t transfer to the halls of the YMCA! My staff barely show up on time to my meetings much less stand when I enter the room.
But the Y, like West Wing, is about a group of people, working hand in hand for a mission far more worthy than we can imagine. But it’s not the crises that make the Y like the show. It is the relationships that are formed around the office. It is the short quick vignettes in hallways, behind office doors, over meals. That is what makes a show and that is what makes a job. That is what makes working for the Y such a great job. It’s not the drama, it’s the people.
We continually hear during exit interviews, “I’ll miss the people the most. They have become my family.” When in staff retreats we talk about what we were thankful for, everyone was thankful for the staff around the room. And that isn’t just some insignificant dribble that we all say to feel like part of the team and to get extra Brownie points from the CEO. I know at this point, some staff may ask, “Are there really Brownie points from the CEO?” Well that is another blog!
Today, take stock of what is important in your life….the people, the family, the faith, the country, the helpless, the hopeful, the lost, and the found.
In the early years it was about the relationships between these noble people who worked for the President and served the country for this great historical cause. Reality though is that somehow after probably a billion dollars was spent by Bush and Kerry to smash each other, (and today’s candidates will top that,) all elections today are about serving to get re-elected. And the White House hopefuls serve to get elected! SUCH NOBILITY!
That makes perfect sense because that is exactly why most people vote today - To defeat the incumbent or to keep their person in office. Why couldn’t people go to the poles because of their civic duty and to have their voice heard on whom their leader is? Can decisions strictly be made because of sincere ideologies of genuine people. Nope, our votes typically are based on left or right - Democrat or Republican.
But I digress,
West Wing like other good shows always ruin themselves by creating too much drama. ER was the worst. The first two years were great because they centered on the people and the relationships around the ER. Then, and I’ve timed it, every 8 minutes the doors would blow open and an emergency would fly in and create this chaos. And not just a typical emergency, but it would be a busload of teenage cheerleaders on their way to build a house for the Habitat for Humanity. Or someone would come in with a 3-inch bomb taped to his or her chest that could blow up the entire state of Illinois. Too much drama! My wife would always chastise me to relax, that the show was called ER!
SO, in its last years, the West Wing all of a sudden became terrorist attacks, wars, bombs, deaths, kidnappings etc. Every episode. No more relationships.
I like to imagine my own life and draw parallels to this show. (The Y and the West Wing.) I am the President and I think everyone should stand when I enter the room. But that same kind of respect from Jeb Bartlett’s staff doesn’t transfer to the halls of the YMCA! My staff barely show up on time to my meetings much less stand when I enter the room.
But the Y, like West Wing, is about a group of people, working hand in hand for a mission far more worthy than we can imagine. But it’s not the crises that make the Y like the show. It is the relationships that are formed around the office. It is the short quick vignettes in hallways, behind office doors, over meals. That is what makes a show and that is what makes a job. That is what makes working for the Y such a great job. It’s not the drama, it’s the people.
We continually hear during exit interviews, “I’ll miss the people the most. They have become my family.” When in staff retreats we talk about what we were thankful for, everyone was thankful for the staff around the room. And that isn’t just some insignificant dribble that we all say to feel like part of the team and to get extra Brownie points from the CEO. I know at this point, some staff may ask, “Are there really Brownie points from the CEO?” Well that is another blog!
Today, take stock of what is important in your life….the people, the family, the faith, the country, the helpless, the hopeful, the lost, and the found.
July 18, 2007
Brawl at the Beach
It will not be long before the school bells start ringing again and it signals the end of another hectic summer. The summer of 2007 was highlighted just like every summer for the past 13 summers; It is the annual Johnson family (my in-laws) beach trip.
Let me describe the week for you. 5 families, 18 people, and 1 house. More numerical trivia defines the week as 1 kitchen, 4 bathrooms, 4 in-laws, and 1 TV. There is another TV in brother in-law Brian’s bedroom but he retires to that room at 6pm every night so that TV was off limits. 10 adults and 8 children, a few of the adults could be classified as children but that is another story. There are 7 females and 11 males. Now refer back to that 1 TV thing and factor in only one remote.
Not that the average temperature on the beach is usually in excess of 100 degrees and that our A/C does all it can to cool the house below 75 has anything to do with it, but the week is always HOT! I used to print family tee shirts called The Brawl at the Beach, but my wife said that slogan painted a bad picture of our family and she wanted something more positive. I liked to call it The Brawl at the Beach because every summer for the last thirteen years this beach trip has been accentuated by an argument between spouses, a parent and child, or siblings. Every year, like clock work, someone was fighting by Wednesday.
You could call my family’s car the Vegas car because the 5 hour drive to the beach is spent speculating and placing odds on whom would be fighting first and what they would be fighting about. Oh yea, did I share that there are four in laws on this trip, and I am one of them? Well I am preparing to spend a week at the beach with the in-laws or better put, as THE IN-LAW. And this week is the best week of the year for me and my wife and kids.
I think what attracted me most to my wife was her family. My family communicates best over the phone and now by email. This family likes to hang out. That is “hang out with each other!” My family struggles to be civil to each other yet this family’s heartbeat is getting on each other’s nerves. It seems that they would rather argue together than be happy alone. I think there is a bible verse that says that in Proverbs! My family last took a beach trip or any vacation for that matter in 1973 and that was a true brawl at the beach.
But anyway this in-law revelry is so appealing to me that I am enthralled by the week like they have me in some brain washed hypnotic state. In a nutshell the beach trip is encompassed by husband-wife spats, bratty kids (except mine), smart-alec comments (that is me), hurt feelings, little relaxation, high stress, last nerves being trampled on and sheer and utter joy! It is always the best week of my year. I like to complain about it but that is part of the allure. Kind of like being female, you know they’re not happy unless they are complaining. (That is the sarcasm that often gets me in trouble.) But I enjoy complaining about having to go to the beach and I enjoy complaining after I come back, but secretly this is the week and the family that I always dreamed of.
Now don’t get me wrong about my side of the family, we just have a different way of showing our love. We must live several hours from each other where the in-laws all live on the family ponderosa. My family tries to have meals together during special holidays where the in-laws try and eat together as much as they can.
By the end of week, I hope my wife and kids appreciate me half as much as I do them. Often I just sit and stare at them across the room, while they sleep, or as they play. It is hard to ignore the wonderfulness of my wife and kids during the 7 days on the “Ark.” I want my kids to see the joy in being together as a family. And I want them to see that it ain’t always picture perfect. It ain’t always clean, nice, sweet, and even likeable. But it IS about family and about love. Don’t worry about the warts or black sheep in the family, but really focus on the loving glow that engulfs us all.
I think that Proverbs verse says “I’d rather eat salad with my in-laws than steak with the neighbors.” And I wouldn’t trade 1 Brawl at the Beach for 100 Disney Trips.
The sad truth is because of aging kids and more hectic schedules, this may be the last Brawl at the Beach. My hope is that it’s less than 53 weeks before we do it all over again and I am counting the weeks. Just don’t tell my mother in law.
Let me describe the week for you. 5 families, 18 people, and 1 house. More numerical trivia defines the week as 1 kitchen, 4 bathrooms, 4 in-laws, and 1 TV. There is another TV in brother in-law Brian’s bedroom but he retires to that room at 6pm every night so that TV was off limits. 10 adults and 8 children, a few of the adults could be classified as children but that is another story. There are 7 females and 11 males. Now refer back to that 1 TV thing and factor in only one remote.
Not that the average temperature on the beach is usually in excess of 100 degrees and that our A/C does all it can to cool the house below 75 has anything to do with it, but the week is always HOT! I used to print family tee shirts called The Brawl at the Beach, but my wife said that slogan painted a bad picture of our family and she wanted something more positive. I liked to call it The Brawl at the Beach because every summer for the last thirteen years this beach trip has been accentuated by an argument between spouses, a parent and child, or siblings. Every year, like clock work, someone was fighting by Wednesday.
You could call my family’s car the Vegas car because the 5 hour drive to the beach is spent speculating and placing odds on whom would be fighting first and what they would be fighting about. Oh yea, did I share that there are four in laws on this trip, and I am one of them? Well I am preparing to spend a week at the beach with the in-laws or better put, as THE IN-LAW. And this week is the best week of the year for me and my wife and kids.
I think what attracted me most to my wife was her family. My family communicates best over the phone and now by email. This family likes to hang out. That is “hang out with each other!” My family struggles to be civil to each other yet this family’s heartbeat is getting on each other’s nerves. It seems that they would rather argue together than be happy alone. I think there is a bible verse that says that in Proverbs! My family last took a beach trip or any vacation for that matter in 1973 and that was a true brawl at the beach.
But anyway this in-law revelry is so appealing to me that I am enthralled by the week like they have me in some brain washed hypnotic state. In a nutshell the beach trip is encompassed by husband-wife spats, bratty kids (except mine), smart-alec comments (that is me), hurt feelings, little relaxation, high stress, last nerves being trampled on and sheer and utter joy! It is always the best week of my year. I like to complain about it but that is part of the allure. Kind of like being female, you know they’re not happy unless they are complaining. (That is the sarcasm that often gets me in trouble.) But I enjoy complaining about having to go to the beach and I enjoy complaining after I come back, but secretly this is the week and the family that I always dreamed of.
Now don’t get me wrong about my side of the family, we just have a different way of showing our love. We must live several hours from each other where the in-laws all live on the family ponderosa. My family tries to have meals together during special holidays where the in-laws try and eat together as much as they can.
By the end of week, I hope my wife and kids appreciate me half as much as I do them. Often I just sit and stare at them across the room, while they sleep, or as they play. It is hard to ignore the wonderfulness of my wife and kids during the 7 days on the “Ark.” I want my kids to see the joy in being together as a family. And I want them to see that it ain’t always picture perfect. It ain’t always clean, nice, sweet, and even likeable. But it IS about family and about love. Don’t worry about the warts or black sheep in the family, but really focus on the loving glow that engulfs us all.
I think that Proverbs verse says “I’d rather eat salad with my in-laws than steak with the neighbors.” And I wouldn’t trade 1 Brawl at the Beach for 100 Disney Trips.
The sad truth is because of aging kids and more hectic schedules, this may be the last Brawl at the Beach. My hope is that it’s less than 53 weeks before we do it all over again and I am counting the weeks. Just don’t tell my mother in law.
July 1, 2007
Christmas from the Corders
I guess about every other year you get a Christmas letter from the Corder’s. That is because Cam is in charge of the letters and he’s just not as reliable as we all would hope he could be. But this year he is inspired to inspire you. We enjoy the Christmas cards from each of you and also love the Christmas letters we receive. So in that spirit, our letter this year is to show you the top 10 things you should not do when writing a Christmas letter.
So straight from the home office in Shelby, NC this letter is either 6 months early or 6 months late. Depends on whether you are a glass ½ full or ½ empty person.
#10. Never talk about your dog like he/she is human. Of course our dogs are smarter than humans. Maxine, the Golden Retriever is a Houdini. She can escape any fence, shock collar, and humane society volunteer. Ellie, our Bloodhound puppy is fond of Turkey carcasses and $750 vet bills!
#9. Never share the bad news. But since we are talking about dogs, our 14 year old basset Cleveland was put to sleep in 2006. It was an awful Saturday. We actually had to help the vet because his assistant was on vacation. I think our vet has some kids in college this year or maybe adding a wing to his house!
#8. Never use this letter as a religious pulpit. Not everyone shares your religious views so this is not the time to “witness.” Even though the Corders had a tremendous experience helping a friend’s daughter get in to a faith based rehab program called Teen Challenge. Following her rehab graduation in June and seeing her transformed through such intense spiritual revitalization has been a moving experience for us all. It makes us all aware of how GOOD and how strong God is!
#7. Never talk about your children like they are the greatest, This can get old as you read letters, and believe us when we tell you because our kids are as close to perfect as possible. Aside from being the smartest kids in their respective schools, Brooks (10) and Ryanne (13) continue to be the top athletes in whatever venue they participate. I know several of you are trying to arrange marriages with these two angels, but none of your hellions are near good enough.
#6. Never ignore the spell checker. Cam is a great example of this goof, because he never has proffed anything. And he gets tired of April;s constant criticism of hs work so he want let her proof these lettrs. It is hard to beleive with all of the technlogy that Cam can’y hit one spell check buttn.
#5. DO NOT ramble on and on and on about daily life. Understand that we all have busy lives. I am sure that you all wake up at 5:30am and find your days packing lunches, washing clothes, driving carpools. That same old every day work grind gets to us all. Even though Cam loves his job and can’t imagine the work that April has to do to keep the house together. God forbid he lifts a finger to help.
#4. DO NOT lecture about how to live if you just figured out something everyone already knows. But we will share with you that our New Years resolution is to cut our credit cards up. Debt is bad! Ignore all of those friends that share with you the beauty of Ebay and buying online with those “Satan Cards.” That is just the internets version of a yard sale. We just pray that Cam’s parents never learn about it!
#3. DO NOT try to bluff us. It is hard to have perfect lives. Especially through the intense counseling and therapy needed from the Corder gene pool. But the sun always shines in Shelby, and our lives seem to be edited from a Disney movie.
#2. DO NOT let politics infect your holiday ramblings. I wouldn’t dare waste paper writing about the Bleeding Heart Democrats and how this country probably deserves Hillary in the Whitehouse.
#1. DO NOT write a Christmas letter if you don't have time. This is why you only get one every other year and like this one, 6 months after Christmas. Don’t feel like you’re slighted or that communication with the people that we love and respect most in the world is not important, but creativity has its effort.
The one thing that we think of most when we write this letter is how much we are in awe of your friendship. The fact that you think enough of us to include you into your lives overwhelms us. Our lives are so blessed when we read of marriages, baptisms, graduations, vacations, etc. Thanks for sharing your lives with us. May the rest of your 2007 be blessed with a wonderful Love Story!
The Corders Cam, April, Ryanne and Brooks
So straight from the home office in Shelby, NC this letter is either 6 months early or 6 months late. Depends on whether you are a glass ½ full or ½ empty person.
#10. Never talk about your dog like he/she is human. Of course our dogs are smarter than humans. Maxine, the Golden Retriever is a Houdini. She can escape any fence, shock collar, and humane society volunteer. Ellie, our Bloodhound puppy is fond of Turkey carcasses and $750 vet bills!
#9. Never share the bad news. But since we are talking about dogs, our 14 year old basset Cleveland was put to sleep in 2006. It was an awful Saturday. We actually had to help the vet because his assistant was on vacation. I think our vet has some kids in college this year or maybe adding a wing to his house!
#8. Never use this letter as a religious pulpit. Not everyone shares your religious views so this is not the time to “witness.” Even though the Corders had a tremendous experience helping a friend’s daughter get in to a faith based rehab program called Teen Challenge. Following her rehab graduation in June and seeing her transformed through such intense spiritual revitalization has been a moving experience for us all. It makes us all aware of how GOOD and how strong God is!
#7. Never talk about your children like they are the greatest, This can get old as you read letters, and believe us when we tell you because our kids are as close to perfect as possible. Aside from being the smartest kids in their respective schools, Brooks (10) and Ryanne (13) continue to be the top athletes in whatever venue they participate. I know several of you are trying to arrange marriages with these two angels, but none of your hellions are near good enough.
#6. Never ignore the spell checker. Cam is a great example of this goof, because he never has proffed anything. And he gets tired of April;s constant criticism of hs work so he want let her proof these lettrs. It is hard to beleive with all of the technlogy that Cam can’y hit one spell check buttn.
#5. DO NOT ramble on and on and on about daily life. Understand that we all have busy lives. I am sure that you all wake up at 5:30am and find your days packing lunches, washing clothes, driving carpools. That same old every day work grind gets to us all. Even though Cam loves his job and can’t imagine the work that April has to do to keep the house together. God forbid he lifts a finger to help.
#4. DO NOT lecture about how to live if you just figured out something everyone already knows. But we will share with you that our New Years resolution is to cut our credit cards up. Debt is bad! Ignore all of those friends that share with you the beauty of Ebay and buying online with those “Satan Cards.” That is just the internets version of a yard sale. We just pray that Cam’s parents never learn about it!
#3. DO NOT try to bluff us. It is hard to have perfect lives. Especially through the intense counseling and therapy needed from the Corder gene pool. But the sun always shines in Shelby, and our lives seem to be edited from a Disney movie.
#2. DO NOT let politics infect your holiday ramblings. I wouldn’t dare waste paper writing about the Bleeding Heart Democrats and how this country probably deserves Hillary in the Whitehouse.
#1. DO NOT write a Christmas letter if you don't have time. This is why you only get one every other year and like this one, 6 months after Christmas. Don’t feel like you’re slighted or that communication with the people that we love and respect most in the world is not important, but creativity has its effort.
The one thing that we think of most when we write this letter is how much we are in awe of your friendship. The fact that you think enough of us to include you into your lives overwhelms us. Our lives are so blessed when we read of marriages, baptisms, graduations, vacations, etc. Thanks for sharing your lives with us. May the rest of your 2007 be blessed with a wonderful Love Story!
The Corders Cam, April, Ryanne and Brooks
June 18, 2007
Paul Porter
I recently read a sermon from Bill Hybels, the leader of a church outside of Chicago called Willow Creek. He was sharing from the passage in Luke where Jesus was preaching to the crowds and selecting his first group of Disciples. Hybels noted that Jesus tested these guys to see if they would be followers. I don’t know why, I just have a partiality to this story and reading this sermon made me draw a corollary to Paul and Margaret Porter and the work we do at the YMCA.
Hybels wrote that once the buzz of this great catch of fish happens, you would think that everyone would just go home and the whole event would be over, but Jesus poses a test. And His timing is impeccable. There is still the buzz in the air for the catch of all this fish, and Hybels imagined it unfolding kind of this way, it’s like Jesus says to Peter and James and John, “Wasn’t that a ball? Wasn’t that great? To gather all those fish, to do it in team. You did it together. You got them all ashore. Wasn’t that a ball?”
Hybels puts out there that Jesus maybe said, “Well think for just a moment. Think a grander thought. You’ve got a kick out of netting a bunch of fish. Think what it would be like to catch or to redirect the lives and eternities of hundreds of thousands of people. Wouldn’t that even be more fun? Nothing against fishing, you understand, but just compare the stakes. You bring the fish in and you take them to the market and you get some dollars. Nothing against dollars. But just take a moment and compare the value of a dollar against the value of someone’s destiny! Think about that. You can continue to just catch fish for dollars, or you can accept my invitation to go after people’s destinies. You want to catch fish or you want to catch people? You want to do dollars or do you want to do destinies?”
Now it’s very important that you understand there was no shaming going on here. The test was not if you are a bad person you will keep doing this, and if you’re a better person you will do the other. It wasn’t about that. It was just a vision test. In other words, He was saying, “If you see it as I’m describing it, if you get it as I’m explaining it, if you understand the value of a destiny versus the value of a dollar, you will want to orient more of your life around destinies instead of dollars.” You’ll want to. It’s not any nobler, necessarily. It’s just smarter. It’s destinies over dollars.
Now, here is the application for our YMCA today.
Paul and Margaret Porter were solicited to give money all of the time. They have resources. Their gift mattered. Their gift had impact. Their gift had value. It had so much value that their name has appeared somewhere on a building or in a brochure many times. It had so much value that their picture and even a newspaper article was written about their support. Their gift was so important that many people publicly thanked them for what they had done. They have prepared for it. For them, it is their personal mission to support philanthropic causes. It is their calling, and they believe it is what you are supposed to do with the great resources that you have been blessed.
That kind of giving is fun! They got impact, they got recognition, and they got satisfaction. But I want to draw you closer to the dollars and destinies discussion. I believe that Paul and Margaret understood that their giving was not about bricks and mortar, naming opportunities, and economic development. They understood that their philanthropy was more about destinies.
They knew about the lives that may be saved because the Y taught kids how to swim or taught people how to be great lifeguards, and then they went on to save a life.
They thought about that teenager from a broken home. She has no one to talk to about the changes in her life and even the changes in her teenage feelings and emotions. But she finds a Y staff person who listens, guides, advises, and just shares with her. That teen is going to grow up and be the same mentor for her own daughter or even her neighbor’s children.
They understood the importance of a father who gets to live 25 more years and see his children graduate high school and college. He gets to walk his daughter down the aisle at a wedding and he gets to hold his grandchildren. All made possible by the life change that happened when the doctor prescribed a new wellness plan at the Y so he won’t have a second heart attack.
They could see the 10 year old child that sits with his after school counselor and ask questions about Jesus.
They could see life changes. They can see that their check was more than just bricks and mortar; more than just a feeling of civic pride. I have witnessed that at the core of who they are, what they really care about, is big fish, its human beings. Over the past few years I have been able to see it more clearly.
I think God puts this vision test in front of us virtually every day. You go through your life and you can get completely engrossed into just living life. That everyday stuff that keeps our engines running. You don’t really look at the bigger redemptive picture during the day. You’re looking at little fish and just the same day after day, life every day, all day long. And then God reminds us we don’t understand this grander vision and we are missing out? So God is now inviting us into a grander vision saying, “I invite you in to people catching and destiny altering.”
So the next time I write a check I need to think about the grander vision. I will write that check with the understanding that I am prepared to go after big fish and bigger destinies.
This is not a guilt thing not this test, it’s just about getting it, seeing it, being seized by it and going throughout my day saying, “I know I have to pay the rent. So I want to honor God with doing well in my job, but the affection of my heart is on the destinies that I can alter, and I can see that clearly!”
Paul and Margaret passed this test. I hope I score as well on my final exams!
Hybels wrote that once the buzz of this great catch of fish happens, you would think that everyone would just go home and the whole event would be over, but Jesus poses a test. And His timing is impeccable. There is still the buzz in the air for the catch of all this fish, and Hybels imagined it unfolding kind of this way, it’s like Jesus says to Peter and James and John, “Wasn’t that a ball? Wasn’t that great? To gather all those fish, to do it in team. You did it together. You got them all ashore. Wasn’t that a ball?”
Hybels puts out there that Jesus maybe said, “Well think for just a moment. Think a grander thought. You’ve got a kick out of netting a bunch of fish. Think what it would be like to catch or to redirect the lives and eternities of hundreds of thousands of people. Wouldn’t that even be more fun? Nothing against fishing, you understand, but just compare the stakes. You bring the fish in and you take them to the market and you get some dollars. Nothing against dollars. But just take a moment and compare the value of a dollar against the value of someone’s destiny! Think about that. You can continue to just catch fish for dollars, or you can accept my invitation to go after people’s destinies. You want to catch fish or you want to catch people? You want to do dollars or do you want to do destinies?”
Now it’s very important that you understand there was no shaming going on here. The test was not if you are a bad person you will keep doing this, and if you’re a better person you will do the other. It wasn’t about that. It was just a vision test. In other words, He was saying, “If you see it as I’m describing it, if you get it as I’m explaining it, if you understand the value of a destiny versus the value of a dollar, you will want to orient more of your life around destinies instead of dollars.” You’ll want to. It’s not any nobler, necessarily. It’s just smarter. It’s destinies over dollars.
Now, here is the application for our YMCA today.
Paul and Margaret Porter were solicited to give money all of the time. They have resources. Their gift mattered. Their gift had impact. Their gift had value. It had so much value that their name has appeared somewhere on a building or in a brochure many times. It had so much value that their picture and even a newspaper article was written about their support. Their gift was so important that many people publicly thanked them for what they had done. They have prepared for it. For them, it is their personal mission to support philanthropic causes. It is their calling, and they believe it is what you are supposed to do with the great resources that you have been blessed.
That kind of giving is fun! They got impact, they got recognition, and they got satisfaction. But I want to draw you closer to the dollars and destinies discussion. I believe that Paul and Margaret understood that their giving was not about bricks and mortar, naming opportunities, and economic development. They understood that their philanthropy was more about destinies.
They knew about the lives that may be saved because the Y taught kids how to swim or taught people how to be great lifeguards, and then they went on to save a life.
They thought about that teenager from a broken home. She has no one to talk to about the changes in her life and even the changes in her teenage feelings and emotions. But she finds a Y staff person who listens, guides, advises, and just shares with her. That teen is going to grow up and be the same mentor for her own daughter or even her neighbor’s children.
They understood the importance of a father who gets to live 25 more years and see his children graduate high school and college. He gets to walk his daughter down the aisle at a wedding and he gets to hold his grandchildren. All made possible by the life change that happened when the doctor prescribed a new wellness plan at the Y so he won’t have a second heart attack.
They could see the 10 year old child that sits with his after school counselor and ask questions about Jesus.
They could see life changes. They can see that their check was more than just bricks and mortar; more than just a feeling of civic pride. I have witnessed that at the core of who they are, what they really care about, is big fish, its human beings. Over the past few years I have been able to see it more clearly.
I think God puts this vision test in front of us virtually every day. You go through your life and you can get completely engrossed into just living life. That everyday stuff that keeps our engines running. You don’t really look at the bigger redemptive picture during the day. You’re looking at little fish and just the same day after day, life every day, all day long. And then God reminds us we don’t understand this grander vision and we are missing out? So God is now inviting us into a grander vision saying, “I invite you in to people catching and destiny altering.”
So the next time I write a check I need to think about the grander vision. I will write that check with the understanding that I am prepared to go after big fish and bigger destinies.
This is not a guilt thing not this test, it’s just about getting it, seeing it, being seized by it and going throughout my day saying, “I know I have to pay the rent. So I want to honor God with doing well in my job, but the affection of my heart is on the destinies that I can alter, and I can see that clearly!”
Paul and Margaret passed this test. I hope I score as well on my final exams!
June 14, 2007
Teen Challenge
I know many of you have experienced graduation in the last few weeks. You know someone who graduated college or high school. Just send them cash! And even today we have 8th grade graduations to high school, these kids are registered at Circuit City, and 5th grade graduations to middle school, get them a Y membership and kindergarten graduations to 1st grade, they’re registered at Toys R Us. Our church even had a pre-school graduation to kindergarten. They were registered at Wal-Mart. Hey, I’m from Shelby, what can I say.
But I had the distinct honor and privilege to attend a friend’s graduation from Rehab. Most graduations have the graduate stroll across the stage, grab a diploma, shake a hand and turn a tassel. This graduation from a program called Teen Challenge (it is for adults too) had the graduate stroll across the stage to a microphone and tell how they had hit rock bottom. 22 of the most heart wrenching and emotional stories you can ever imagine. Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, and even friends often stood beside them on stage and also shared the affects on the family, but also their immense pride in the grad’s accomplishment, and their complete thankfulness for God for restoring the graduate.
Just a few random thoughts about what stood out during these life stories.
* Experimentation often started at 13 and 14
* Drinking and smoking led to marijuana use, which lead to harder drugs. Marijuana is a gateway drug
* These people grew up in the church and were members of the youth group and choir. They had scholarships for academics and athletics
* Addiction crosses all economic levels
* These addictive lives crippled families. Financially destroying parents and emotionally scarring everyone around the addict
* The detachment and downward spirals of these people lasted 10 plus years! Think about that, 10 years of drug use, in and out of jails, in and out of rehabs.
* Methamphetamine is a BAD BAD drug!
* There is only one true way out of the addictive control of drugs and alcohol – GOD
Teen Challenge is a faith based rehab program that most people attend because they are court ordered. My friend graduated from the Minnesota Teen Challenge. There are hundreds of Teen Challenge Programs around the country. It is a 13 month, very strict program. Most of the graduates actually were in longer than 13 months. It seems that they spend the first 6 to 7 months fighting it and then the last 6 months trying to put it all back into focus. Teen Challenge notes that it has a 90% success rate meaning that only 10% of their graduates have a relapse. A comparison is AA has only a 10% success rate. Could that be a God thing?
My wish is that every 13 or 14 year old could sit and listen to these stories. This kind of “scared straight” would be powerful. As a parent, watching fathers stand on stage and just quake because their emotions are so strong that they cannot speak had my head about to explode. Listening to these men and having them look into the audience of their children and apologize would stir the emotions of even the most stoic person. Witnessing these ladies share how they have destroyed their relationships with parents and siblings left me at times heartbroken. But the joy in their transformation always “restoreth” my soul.
At the end of the day I stood around with this family as their daughter, the graduate, went around the room and thanked everyone; her parents, her brother, aunts and uncles, family friends, cousins, great uncles and aunts, and me. These people drove hours for this girl to share with her graduation. Their lives affected during the last 15 years too. I am sure thankful they were blessed and lucky enough that it wasn’t their kid. I am sure thankful and blessed that their 15 years of prayers continue to be answered. I am sure thankful that they were blessed by God and their faith strengthened by the power of what was witnessed.
This was a great graduation. If you want to get her a gift you can go online and talk to God, She is registered in Heaven!
But I had the distinct honor and privilege to attend a friend’s graduation from Rehab. Most graduations have the graduate stroll across the stage, grab a diploma, shake a hand and turn a tassel. This graduation from a program called Teen Challenge (it is for adults too) had the graduate stroll across the stage to a microphone and tell how they had hit rock bottom. 22 of the most heart wrenching and emotional stories you can ever imagine. Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, and even friends often stood beside them on stage and also shared the affects on the family, but also their immense pride in the grad’s accomplishment, and their complete thankfulness for God for restoring the graduate.
Just a few random thoughts about what stood out during these life stories.
* Experimentation often started at 13 and 14
* Drinking and smoking led to marijuana use, which lead to harder drugs. Marijuana is a gateway drug
* These people grew up in the church and were members of the youth group and choir. They had scholarships for academics and athletics
* Addiction crosses all economic levels
* These addictive lives crippled families. Financially destroying parents and emotionally scarring everyone around the addict
* The detachment and downward spirals of these people lasted 10 plus years! Think about that, 10 years of drug use, in and out of jails, in and out of rehabs.
* Methamphetamine is a BAD BAD drug!
* There is only one true way out of the addictive control of drugs and alcohol – GOD
Teen Challenge is a faith based rehab program that most people attend because they are court ordered. My friend graduated from the Minnesota Teen Challenge. There are hundreds of Teen Challenge Programs around the country. It is a 13 month, very strict program. Most of the graduates actually were in longer than 13 months. It seems that they spend the first 6 to 7 months fighting it and then the last 6 months trying to put it all back into focus. Teen Challenge notes that it has a 90% success rate meaning that only 10% of their graduates have a relapse. A comparison is AA has only a 10% success rate. Could that be a God thing?
My wish is that every 13 or 14 year old could sit and listen to these stories. This kind of “scared straight” would be powerful. As a parent, watching fathers stand on stage and just quake because their emotions are so strong that they cannot speak had my head about to explode. Listening to these men and having them look into the audience of their children and apologize would stir the emotions of even the most stoic person. Witnessing these ladies share how they have destroyed their relationships with parents and siblings left me at times heartbroken. But the joy in their transformation always “restoreth” my soul.
At the end of the day I stood around with this family as their daughter, the graduate, went around the room and thanked everyone; her parents, her brother, aunts and uncles, family friends, cousins, great uncles and aunts, and me. These people drove hours for this girl to share with her graduation. Their lives affected during the last 15 years too. I am sure thankful they were blessed and lucky enough that it wasn’t their kid. I am sure thankful and blessed that their 15 years of prayers continue to be answered. I am sure thankful that they were blessed by God and their faith strengthened by the power of what was witnessed.
This was a great graduation. If you want to get her a gift you can go online and talk to God, She is registered in Heaven!
June 3, 2007
High School Hoops
When you can’t dunk, you seem to be obsessed with dunking. As a teenager with keys to the Y gym, I would open up after the Y closed, and my friends and I would jump off the gymnastics springboard and dunk. Floating through the air I would imagine I was…..well really I was just hoping too land without hurting myself or catching a nosebleed.
But my dunking fantasy came to reality pretty much every day after school. That is when my best friends in the entire world would gather at the driveway of Frank Selvy. Frank was an ex-NBA player with the Lakers, the only person to ever score 100 points in a NCAA game and the hero to all of us neighborhood NBA wannabees. Frank was also the father to Mike Selvy, maybe the only real basketball player in our group.
The court was our haven. It had an 8 ½ foot goal at one end of the driveway and a regulation 10 ft goal at the other. The entire court was a little shorter than a real half court. And this 8 ½ foot goal was no adjustable job that these spoiled neighborhood kids get today. This goal was held together with about 6000 nails, two rolls of duct tape and four gallons of paint.
These games daily were not just a bunch of white boys lined up practicing our dunks. We had a team, the Honolulu Surf. David Catron, was our center, our tallest player and started as the ‘A Train’ Artis Gilmore. Sean DeVine was our power forward and a great role player so we made him Buck Williams. William Poole was that annoying point guard so he became Mo Cheeks. Selvy was younger than us and he wanted to be George Gervin but we made him Danny Ainge. I was the oldest and the loudest so I anointed myself Bernard King. (To this day, I feel like I single-handedly beat the Pistons in a 1984 playoff series.)
Other kids from the neighborhood wanted to play, and we always needed one more to give us three on three. So we would call Larry ‘Tree Rollins’ Jones. Or Ken ‘Jon Koncack’ Binkley. High School friends like Scott ‘Kelly Tripucka’ Cochrane and Lee ‘Danny Vranes’ Lester would show up begging to play and to be on the Surf.
We played so much at the Selvy Back Yard Arena that we really became instinctive. Our real high school basketball team was awful and David Catron and I were the only ones that got to play any significant time. One day at our real high school practice I asked our coach to let our neighborhood play the rest of the team. So the bet was that if we won he would put us on the court together during the next game. We killed them. But then again what NBA team could match up against Gilmore, Williams, King, Ainge and Cheeks. But that noble coach never lived up to his end of the bargain.
The competition in the back yard was the best. In the winter we might have to play around some icy patches. During the summer we may have to jump over the garden hose watering Mrs. Selvy’s flowers. One afternoon the Selvy’s left there VW bus parked on the court. We weren’t old enough to drive, so we played around the vehicle. That led to one of the greatest plays in the history of the Honolulu Surf. (At least in my record book) Mike Selvy took an ill advised jumper on the 10 ft goal. William Poole got the rebound and just as somebody screams, “Where’s Cam?” I came running out from behind the bus on a fast break and caught a full court ally-oop pass for the game winner.
Another memorable moment came weeks after Daryl Dawkins shattered his first back board. David Catron went baseline with a thunderous dunk that brought down the 8 ½ foot goal. And brought it down on my head. Even though the play was really cool, it took the better part of that Saturday afternoon to get the goal back together. In all honesty the goal was never the same.
I look back at those days with great memories. A yard full of bikes and a driveway full of dreamers. Mrs Selvy would come home and always greet us with “Hey Girls.” We would only hope that Frank would come outside and watch just some of our game.
It was a sad day when I graduated and went off to college. The days of basketball in the Selvy driveway ended for me. Kind of felt like Dr J’s retiring!
I don’t even watch the NBA today. If I did I would probably sit around and tell my kids that Shaq wasn’t half as strong as the A Train. And if Ben Wallace could shoot he might be as good as Buck Williams. None of these teams have a point guard and leader like Mo Cheeks. And there aren’t competitors like Danny Ainge anymore. And then I would get the far off look and say, “Kids, did I ever tell you about the time I single handedly beat the Pistons in a 5 game series?”
But my dunking fantasy came to reality pretty much every day after school. That is when my best friends in the entire world would gather at the driveway of Frank Selvy. Frank was an ex-NBA player with the Lakers, the only person to ever score 100 points in a NCAA game and the hero to all of us neighborhood NBA wannabees. Frank was also the father to Mike Selvy, maybe the only real basketball player in our group.
The court was our haven. It had an 8 ½ foot goal at one end of the driveway and a regulation 10 ft goal at the other. The entire court was a little shorter than a real half court. And this 8 ½ foot goal was no adjustable job that these spoiled neighborhood kids get today. This goal was held together with about 6000 nails, two rolls of duct tape and four gallons of paint.
These games daily were not just a bunch of white boys lined up practicing our dunks. We had a team, the Honolulu Surf. David Catron, was our center, our tallest player and started as the ‘A Train’ Artis Gilmore. Sean DeVine was our power forward and a great role player so we made him Buck Williams. William Poole was that annoying point guard so he became Mo Cheeks. Selvy was younger than us and he wanted to be George Gervin but we made him Danny Ainge. I was the oldest and the loudest so I anointed myself Bernard King. (To this day, I feel like I single-handedly beat the Pistons in a 1984 playoff series.)
Other kids from the neighborhood wanted to play, and we always needed one more to give us three on three. So we would call Larry ‘Tree Rollins’ Jones. Or Ken ‘Jon Koncack’ Binkley. High School friends like Scott ‘Kelly Tripucka’ Cochrane and Lee ‘Danny Vranes’ Lester would show up begging to play and to be on the Surf.
We played so much at the Selvy Back Yard Arena that we really became instinctive. Our real high school basketball team was awful and David Catron and I were the only ones that got to play any significant time. One day at our real high school practice I asked our coach to let our neighborhood play the rest of the team. So the bet was that if we won he would put us on the court together during the next game. We killed them. But then again what NBA team could match up against Gilmore, Williams, King, Ainge and Cheeks. But that noble coach never lived up to his end of the bargain.
The competition in the back yard was the best. In the winter we might have to play around some icy patches. During the summer we may have to jump over the garden hose watering Mrs. Selvy’s flowers. One afternoon the Selvy’s left there VW bus parked on the court. We weren’t old enough to drive, so we played around the vehicle. That led to one of the greatest plays in the history of the Honolulu Surf. (At least in my record book) Mike Selvy took an ill advised jumper on the 10 ft goal. William Poole got the rebound and just as somebody screams, “Where’s Cam?” I came running out from behind the bus on a fast break and caught a full court ally-oop pass for the game winner.
Another memorable moment came weeks after Daryl Dawkins shattered his first back board. David Catron went baseline with a thunderous dunk that brought down the 8 ½ foot goal. And brought it down on my head. Even though the play was really cool, it took the better part of that Saturday afternoon to get the goal back together. In all honesty the goal was never the same.
I look back at those days with great memories. A yard full of bikes and a driveway full of dreamers. Mrs Selvy would come home and always greet us with “Hey Girls.” We would only hope that Frank would come outside and watch just some of our game.
It was a sad day when I graduated and went off to college. The days of basketball in the Selvy driveway ended for me. Kind of felt like Dr J’s retiring!
I don’t even watch the NBA today. If I did I would probably sit around and tell my kids that Shaq wasn’t half as strong as the A Train. And if Ben Wallace could shoot he might be as good as Buck Williams. None of these teams have a point guard and leader like Mo Cheeks. And there aren’t competitors like Danny Ainge anymore. And then I would get the far off look and say, “Kids, did I ever tell you about the time I single handedly beat the Pistons in a 5 game series?”
May 17, 2007
Whew!
Whew, what a week. It is hard to worry, plan and prepare for something that is out there but still doesn’t exactly involve you. It is kind of like preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. But I have learned more about Child Predators in the last week than I ever cared to know.
The Y has decided to take a proactive approach and use this time as an opening to educate and counsel parents on how to discuss such serous subjects with their kids. We have sent notes to the parents of the kids in all of our programs, throughout every branch in our association. We have encouraged them to take the time to talk to their kids about good and bad behavior. We have placed info on our web site www.clevecoymca.org titled Special Information for Families.
We also have mailed out letters to the parents of kids that have come in direct contact with this coach over the past 3 seasons. This letter outlined how to talk to their children and what to do in case a child offers up some information. We met with the parents of the current team to answer their questions and to specifically listen to their needs. We have arranged to refer them to counseling if needed.
I know that this is a serious converstaion to have with your child but it is necessary. I feel like I almost have to teach my kids to trust no one!!! That makes for a sad world.
And my thoughts this week center around the young men who came forward with this horrific abuse. Thinking about them keeping this nightmare private for a decade makes my heart ache. Their unusual act of bravery to bring their story forward will probably save lives. Unfortunately we may not know for another decade if this accused predator has abused others. That is why your YMCA is taking great strides to say, "I know this is an awkward thing to talk about. But it is an important discussion and a necessary evil in today’s climate."
Our prayers will continue to be with those brave young men and their families. We will pray for the individuals out there in our world that are trying to bury a secret that just will not stay buried. And we need to pray for parents everywhere.
Today, those bad calls from the umpires seem so trivial. My son’s strike out with the tying run on third is not even a speck on my radar. But my desire to have my child, your child and every child grow up without the fear of all of the evil that is around us, fuels me! I stand resolute and committed.
The Y has decided to take a proactive approach and use this time as an opening to educate and counsel parents on how to discuss such serous subjects with their kids. We have sent notes to the parents of the kids in all of our programs, throughout every branch in our association. We have encouraged them to take the time to talk to their kids about good and bad behavior. We have placed info on our web site www.clevecoymca.org titled Special Information for Families.
We also have mailed out letters to the parents of kids that have come in direct contact with this coach over the past 3 seasons. This letter outlined how to talk to their children and what to do in case a child offers up some information. We met with the parents of the current team to answer their questions and to specifically listen to their needs. We have arranged to refer them to counseling if needed.
I know that this is a serious converstaion to have with your child but it is necessary. I feel like I almost have to teach my kids to trust no one!!! That makes for a sad world.
And my thoughts this week center around the young men who came forward with this horrific abuse. Thinking about them keeping this nightmare private for a decade makes my heart ache. Their unusual act of bravery to bring their story forward will probably save lives. Unfortunately we may not know for another decade if this accused predator has abused others. That is why your YMCA is taking great strides to say, "I know this is an awkward thing to talk about. But it is an important discussion and a necessary evil in today’s climate."
Our prayers will continue to be with those brave young men and their families. We will pray for the individuals out there in our world that are trying to bury a secret that just will not stay buried. And we need to pray for parents everywhere.
Today, those bad calls from the umpires seem so trivial. My son’s strike out with the tying run on third is not even a speck on my radar. But my desire to have my child, your child and every child grow up without the fear of all of the evil that is around us, fuels me! I stand resolute and committed.
May 5, 2007
Charlie Harry
March 16th: The boiler in our pool was recently down a month. The water temperature has dropped to about 70 degrees. I am sure if most of us went swimming now we would first dip our toes in the water and feel how cold it is. We would probably walk over to the steps and get our feet acclimated to the temperature and then our calves and then we would slowly walk into the water until our entire body has adjusted to the 70 degree temperature.
If we were to get into the water like that, the experience of swimming would probably be miserable. This is just a series of uncomfortable moments that strung together will make for a miserable experience.
But Mike Breaux, the author of the book Making Ripples, says that the cannon ball is a much better way to enter the water. He suggest that we should get a running start, and just as we hit the edge of the pool we jump as high as we can, tuck in mid air and wait to hit that cold 70 degree water. The splash would go everywhere and the ripples would go to the wall and back. If the pool walls weren’t there, those ripples would just continue to go out, long after we made our splash.
Mike Breaux suggests this is what God has in mind for us. God says to us, “Trust me – Jump. Make a splash with your one and only life, and we can make ripples together. Live your life in such a way that you touch someone else’s life. Then they’ll touch someone else’s life, and they’ll touch another life, and so on and so on.
Paul put it this way in 2nd Corinthians – “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.”
Charlie Harry lived his life in constant ripple. Touching the lives of not only the people in this room but thousands at the Y and someday millions around the world. Because he knew that a life can touch a life that touches a life.
I needed Charlie recently. We opened bids for the Boiling Springs YMCA and they were much greater than I had hoped for. I must have been pretty pale sitting around that table, wondering what I was going to do to make this vision come through.
If Charlie would have been there he would have first made me laugh and got me to relax. Then he would have just walked me through the realities and the discussions of the economics, potential, and what ifs. But at the end he would have brought me back to the vision and the lives that would be changed and he would have encouraged me to come back with a plan that would focus on that – life change.
Because Charlie knew that a life touches a life that touches a life.
If we were to get into the water like that, the experience of swimming would probably be miserable. This is just a series of uncomfortable moments that strung together will make for a miserable experience.
But Mike Breaux, the author of the book Making Ripples, says that the cannon ball is a much better way to enter the water. He suggest that we should get a running start, and just as we hit the edge of the pool we jump as high as we can, tuck in mid air and wait to hit that cold 70 degree water. The splash would go everywhere and the ripples would go to the wall and back. If the pool walls weren’t there, those ripples would just continue to go out, long after we made our splash.
Mike Breaux suggests this is what God has in mind for us. God says to us, “Trust me – Jump. Make a splash with your one and only life, and we can make ripples together. Live your life in such a way that you touch someone else’s life. Then they’ll touch someone else’s life, and they’ll touch another life, and so on and so on.
Paul put it this way in 2nd Corinthians – “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.”
Charlie Harry lived his life in constant ripple. Touching the lives of not only the people in this room but thousands at the Y and someday millions around the world. Because he knew that a life can touch a life that touches a life.
I needed Charlie recently. We opened bids for the Boiling Springs YMCA and they were much greater than I had hoped for. I must have been pretty pale sitting around that table, wondering what I was going to do to make this vision come through.
If Charlie would have been there he would have first made me laugh and got me to relax. Then he would have just walked me through the realities and the discussions of the economics, potential, and what ifs. But at the end he would have brought me back to the vision and the lives that would be changed and he would have encouraged me to come back with a plan that would focus on that – life change.
Because Charlie knew that a life touches a life that touches a life.
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