Heroes

Recently, I heard the story of a policeman who came upon an accident caused by a man swerving into a truck. When the police officer checked on the driver of the car he found the man had no pulse. He immediately began applying CPR. He continued until he was relieved by the medical responders.

The car's driver had suffered a major heart attack and clinically died, causing the accident. The actions of the first responder, along with the medical professionals at the hospital, were able to revive the driver, save his life and, ultimately, return him to his family.

When the police officer was acknowledged as a hero he commented he was only doing his job.

Down through the ages a hero has come to be defined as a person who displays great courage or noble qualities. A police officer who continues administering CPR, even when it appears his efforts are futile, definitely displays noble qualities.

It is my belief each one of us has a hero inside -- waiting to be released.

An "unsung hero" can take many forms. He might be the guy who spends Saturday mornings down at the homeless shelter, sorting through boxes of canned goods in a back room, separating them out for distribution. He might be the guy who's spent the last three years -- or more -- volunteering and ready when needed by his county's rural fire department. He might be the guy who stops to help a stranger change a flat tire. He might be the guy who speaks up for the rights of others, or for some thorny social or faith-based concern, even when doing so is unpopular.

When a man displays heroic qualities, he inspires others by his courage and his resolution to act on what he believes. If you are a family leader, you have the unique position to influence your kids to be a hero in someone else's life. They, in turn, can inspire others, who inspire yet others, and so on.

Inspiration: it's the energy that transforms the ordinary into the astonishing.

I encourage you to be a hero today.

Baseball Lessons

It doesn't matter if you're decked out in blue, orange, red or pinstripes; this is the time of year when life takes on a fresh start. The crack of the bat, the smell of cut grass, and the springtime anthem "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" all mean baseball has finally arrived! Hot dogs piled high with sweet and savory fixings, chilly beverages, salted peanuts in the shell -- all add to the exuberant feeling. Fathers toss out grandstand clichés like "Good eye!" and "Be a hitter!" and "Wait for your pitch!" as they instruct their sons in the finer points of the game. Scorecards are dutifully kept and then tucked away for safekeeping, to be treasured later by the son who serendipitously finds one in the bottom of a drawer and remembers his day at the park.

That's the beauty of baseball. It isn't just the game played in monster stadiums by the pros. It's summer camp and city park games, Little League and T-Ball competitions too. All these offer serious competition, bleachers loaded with enthusiastic and loyal fans, and a chance to snag a hot dog, a bag of nuts, or a Popsicle. Baseball, it has been said is "America's pastime." Its popularity is firmly entrenched in the American psyche and, like spring, renews itself every year.

As I was thinking about the upcoming season I was struck by the life lessons that baseball teaches.

1. Just because you fail doesn't mean you are a failure: Ty Cobb holds the all-time batting average with a .366; that means he got on base less than every four out of ten times at bat. Ty Cobb failed to hit 60 percent of the time, yet he wasn't a failure. We shouldn't beat ourselves up for failing, as long as we keep trying.

2. Be ready, stay ready: of the nine players on the team, only two are guaranteed to touch the baseball in any given inning. Those two are the pitcher and the catcher. If the pitcher is doing an exceptional job, then it's possible an outfielder can go the entire game without ever getting near the ball. However, if the ball is hit to him, he better be ready. Whether we're at home plate ready to swing or out in left field, we need to keep our eye on the ball.

3. Strategy counts: a two-strike bunt may not be the best move, but if it's unexpected, it can be a game winner. In life we need to plan our strategy accordingly; sometimes the unexpected is just what we need.

4. Bad manners get you tossed: a player or a coach expressing foul language, excessive arguing over an ump's questionable call, or displaying poor sportsmanship generally gets booted from the game. It's important to exercise good manners and use appropriate language.

5. Take a seventh-inning stretch: nothing is more fun than standing with 45,000 other fans and singing, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game!" We need to gather our family together to take a seventh-inning stretch too.

6. A walk is as good as a hit: a player can only score if he gets on base. Walks and hits accomplish the same thing: they get you on. Sometimes we look for the big solution to our problems when a simple one will do.

Perhaps the best lesson baseball gives for life is that a game is always better when shared with family. Men, take your family to a game; you'll be glad you did.

Play ball!

What Will The Kids Say?

Anyone who has been around kids knows they speak openly and honestly about what they hear and see at home. No matter how softly you whisper they still hear. If you think they're sleeping and can't hear you, think again. They can and do. Children have the uncanny knack of hearing what parents wish they hadn't, and then remembering it -- much to the parents' chagrin, especially when what was not meant for their ears re-surfaces later at an inopportune time. Many a parent has been mortified to hear their words repeated by their children.

Children not only mimic what they hear, they often adopt the attitude and habits of their parents. This point was finely illustrated just the other day, as my two brothers and I remembered our dad's birthday.

Dad passed away many years ago, but his sons remembered his birthday in a fashion he would have appreciated.

Dad was a man who enjoyed a glass of beer and a shot of whiskey before each evening meal. His beer preference varied depending on the market price, but his whiskey of choice was Jim Beam. He would pour the whiskey into his shot glass and offer his toast -- always the same, always one word: "Sta-goy." His choice of whiskey and his spoken toast never changed.

On his last birthday celebration, his sons raised a shot of Jim Beam and in unison they shouted, "Sta-goy!"

We then spent hours trying to figure out what "sta-goy" meant. To the best of our knowledge we concluded this was a made-for-dad word, with no other meaning than it sounded like a good toast.

Afterwards I began to think what will my children remember about me? Will they remember how I went to church, loved their mother, prayed over them? Will they remember how hard I worked, how I tucked them into bed, and went to their activities? Or will they remember the brand of tobacco I smoked, my favorite cuss words, and my favorite TV shows?

None of us can fully predict or guarantee the kind of legacy we will leave our kids and families. We can, however, ink more entries on that side of the ledger that show us to be loving husbands and fathers, trusted confidants, and practical men of God.

It is within our power to do just that.

Happy Easter, Bunny!

Permit me to share a little of my story. My wife was born, "Arlene," but when her Daddy first held her she had pink ears and a little pink nose. He declared, "She is as cute as a bunny," and she was "Bunny" ever since.

I called her Arlene on our wedding day and sometimes when I was less than happy, but any other time she was Bunny. Every Easter morning I would awake and begin the first of our Easter traditions, as I greeted her with "Happy Easter, Bunny!" Then the other traditions would begin:

New Easter outfits for the kids

Family sitting together at church, hearing the Easter story

Dinner featuring ham and a home-made, red-velvet, butter-creamed, frosted lamb cake (with memories of one Lamb that "bled" raw, red-velvet dough when cut into -- not a pretty sight)

Easter baskets: one hidden in the bathtub, one in the oven, others behind furniture

Egg hunt, featuring plastic eggs filled with jelly beans and an occasional coin

Easter lilies on the table

No matter what the family situation, no matter what the finances, no matter what was the chaos that surrounded us -- the familiar Easter traditions provided a day for stability, comfort and joy. This day and its traditions surrounded our family with a peace. No matter what the future would bring, we would awake, shout out, "Happy Easter, Bunny!" and hear once again the Good News of the open tomb.

Today, the family is separated by time and distance, with the kids separated by time zones, as well as an ocean. Our kids are now on their own, with children and traditions of their own.

Bunny has been called home to her Heavenly Father, no longer present to hear, "Happy Easter, Bunny!" Yet, in the dark, quiet hours of this coming Easter morning, I will awake and speak the words, "Happy Easter, Bunny," and will be comforted. I will not hide baskets or eat a lamb cake, but I will look at the Easter lily in church. My eyes will tear and my throat will close as I hear the words, "He is risen!"

And I will whisper, "He is risen, indeed! Alleluia!"

"Happy Easter, Bunny" reminds me of a lifetime of love, joy, happiness and traditions. I will recall the past and delight in His gifts of today: another wife, a new family, new traditions, and the opportunity to share Him in all I do.

I thank God for traditions. I thank God for memories. I thank God for promises. I thank God for new traditions.

Happy Easter ...

This was first published for Easter 2010.

Lessons from the Penalty Box

With the end of this year's abbreviated National Hockey League season fast approaching, fans across North America are looking to the rink. Although the NHL has a smaller fan base compared to Major League Baseball, the National Football League, and the National Basketball Association, these fans are some of the most loyal and engaged in all of sports. Even I, though not a dedicated hockey buff, will watch my favorite NHL team in action, when I get the chance. As I watched a game the other night, it struck me how we could learn some life lessons from this fine sport.

Now some would argue absolutely nothing good can come from hockey: a fiercely aggressive sport with a real knack for violence. In fact, so prevalent are the game's displays of open hostilities, it has given rise to a fairly oft-used expression, which captures the game's propensity for settling scores with one's fists: "I went to a fight the other night, and a hockey game broke out."

We've probably all seen violence in major league sports: the bench-clearing brouhaha that erupts after a batter's been tagged by a gunning pitcher, the NFL's late hits and cheap shots, and the flagrant fouls of the NBA are all examples of tempers flaring, passions rising, and a distinct lack of self-control. Of course, violence in the NHL results for the same reasons. Interestingly though, the consequences for the offending player's team in the NHL are different than other sports. If a baseball, football or basketball player is penalized, that player stays in the game, and the teams remain evenly matched. On the other hand, hockey players penalized for any reason, including violence, serve their time in the penalty box, off the ice. While there, his team may not replace him, thus giving that team a disadvantage in the number of men on the ice. And, of course, there are real and immediate game consequences when playing a man down. The individual pays for his mistake, and the team suffers the consequences.

To me this parallels life in many ways: my negative actions may well have consequences beyond me. When I am caustic or embittered or show aggressive tendencies at home in front of my family -- yelling at the neighbor, cussing at the dog, reading the "riot act" to some business person on the phone -- the family is upset, i.e. they suffer. I need to remember my actions impact more than just me. If I've put myself in the penalty box -- if my actions are detrimental to the family unit and our ability to thrive together is hindered by my unseemly behavior -- we all lose big time.

And one more thing: have you ever paid much attention to the guy sitting in the penalty box? He's not only publicly shamed for his conduct, he also has to deal with the opposing team's unruly fans, rattling the glass behind him, jeering and egging him on.

I guess the only thing really nice about sitting in the penalty box is you've got a front-row seat to watch the other team score.

The Joy of Cross-Country Skiing

For those of you living in warmer climates, the snows of recent weeks have been a blessing to all who like snow sports, especially downhill skiing. Downhill or alpine skiers are the ones who take a lift to the top of a mountain, so they can head downhill in a variety of twists and turns to the bottom of the mountain. Each path or run is color coded to indicate level of difficulty. The Green Circle is the easiest; next is the difficult and demanding Blue Square; this is followed by the Black Diamond for advanced skiers and, finally, the Double Black Diamond, reserved for experts and those who've had three too many eggnog rum punches. The runs are classified based on the steepness of the slope and condition of the trail. Most downhill skiers start as I did, on the green "bunny slopes" and progress through the colors. The lure of downhill skiing is found in the rush one experiences as he or she glides effortlessly across the surface of the snow, surrounded by the stillness of the mountain and the beauty of the snow-covered countryside. The exhilaration of surviving the occasional tumble also adds to the lure of the sport.

Don't get me wrong, while I like the rush of wind on my face as I schuss downhill at speeds that would snap many a bone if I took a tumble, I have recently found a real interest in cross-country skiing. Admittedly, sliding one's feet back and forth inside two tracks doesn't sound very appealing, but there is more to it than that, and much which I thoroughly enjoy.

I like quietly gliding up on unsuspecting wildlife, catching them by surprise.

I enjoy letting my mind wander, without having to pay attention where I'm headed.

I relish the burn in my muscles, as they work to keep me headed forward.

I rejoice in the small victories, as I ascend an incline and then glide down the other side.

I take in the thin briskness of the open air, as I push forward to the chimney smoke rising in the distance from my cabin.

And then there's the end of the trail, when I can relax by the fire, watching the sun burn out, and knowing that for a little while I experienced something this continent's early Americans must have felt, as they too carved their way through the wooded reaches of our northern frontier.

Sure, summer is always fun, but winter, up in the mountains, is another world altogether. May your slopes be covered in powder as spring closes in. Happy skiing!

Decisions

Someone once said we make more than 5,000 decisions a day. Now before you decide to disagree, think about all the mundane choices you make every morning -- sometimes before you even get out of bed: yes or no to the snooze bar, cereal or bagel for breakfast, caffeine or decaf, milk or orange juice, two percent or skim, local morning news or The Weather Channel. Now add to this a series of decisions on what to wear, and you've got a couple dozen decisions knocked out before you even leave the house.

All through the day decisions present themselves to us, demanding resolution. Each decision made carries a corresponding consequence. Sometimes our professional occupation can determine how serious these consequences can be. Take the auto mechanic, for example. His decisions on taking the extra time to do his job right can make a difference in the safety of those who entrust their car to him. Then there's the surgeon whose continual pursuit of learning offers new hope to her patients by bringing them the latest health options for their condition. On the other hand, sometimes the decisions we make are more mundane -- but not without their own special consequences. Think about, for instance, how a spicy Mexican or Indian dish can wreak havoc on the stomach later on. We regretted that one but, boy, did it taste good going down!

Most of us feel better if we have someone else to consult when making significant decisions. I know I do. For example, in my house I make all the big decisions, and I leave the small ones to my wife. I make mine based on the latest U.N. resolutions, a close-reading of The Old Farmer's Almanac, and a daily review of how the markets are doing, from Beijing to Wall Street. She decides on things like our budget, raising the kids, and what's for dinner, consulting (now get this!) her own intuition and impeccably good sense.

As for the kids, they have their own take on how the decision process goes. They learn early how to pit parent against parent, as they ask for permission to spend the night at a friend's house or delay a curfew. A "no!" from dad means a "why not?" to mom, banking on the hope mom won't consult dad on the matter. It's important for parents to work out a system to prevent this sort of circular negotiating. To fend this off, I simply ask, "What did your mother say?" When I see them hem and haw, I already know what their mother said.

Sometimes we make decisions in haste without thinking through all of the ramifications too. It is these decisions that can sometimes lead to future regrets. Hence it is always best to take a little time and weigh life's most important decisions. A good example of decision deliberation was my wife's review of the pros and cons of marrying me. Her careful consideration of my proposal bore all the trademarks of a general on the brink of a major campaign. She knew there would skirmishes, battles won as well as battles lost. She knew there would possibly even be some treaties along the way, but she believed the effort was worth it, so much so she committed all her resources to the operation.

When she said, "yes," I knew just how good a decision-maker she was, and smart too.