Leadership. Or Not.

I make no secret of the fact that I detest I'm not a fan of the Florida Gators, but there's one former player that I have to admire on several different levels.

Tim Tebow.

He's been glorified, vilified, deified, and denigrated.  Sometimes by the same people.

I read FBC Jax Watchdog almost daily, and today the blogger talked about Tim Tebow.  And leadership.

In a day when leadership from the "White House to the Church house" is sorely lacking, Tebow offers an old but fresh perspective.

I hope my fellow blogger won't mind me lifting these passages from his post:

"There aren't many Christians who have had to endure public criticism like Tim Tebow has. Sure, he has many supporters who love him, but within his chosen profession he has many detractors. Sports writers have criticized him for being so public about his faith, unfairly criticizing him because he prays while he plays, and always mentions Jesus Christ when he gives his post-game conferences.

The criticism has been unrelenting. Criticizing anything and everything. Writers and fans have criticized him personally, his motives in being open about his faith, his stance on abortion, even criticizing he and his mother for a pro-life commercial aired during the Super Bowl. They even criticize how he does his job, his throwing motion, people doubting he even has the basic skills required to be an NFL quarterback...You name it - about his profession, his abilities, his family, and his faith - he has been criticized non-stop.

How does he handle it? Does he complain about his complainers? Does he criticize his criticizers? Does he try to shame the reporters who ask asinine questions?

Does Tim Tebow tell people about how great he is, or how important his "calling" is and how people should respect him? Does he call on other people to stop the criticizers? Is he worried one bit about the criticism?

No way. Never, not one time has Tebow retaliated or complained or criticized his criticizers. He just does his job and he lives out his faith. He has always done it his whole life, and he continues to do it now on a national stage and it just amazes reporters because they've never seen anything like it. A Christian acting like...well, a Christian.

Perfect example of this was last night after he led his team from behind to beat the New York Jets on a last-second 20-yard touchdown run on national TV. He came out to speak to the NFL Network sportscasters after the game. One of the talking heads, Deion Sanders, asked this question:

"Of course these fans in Denver, they love you. But nationally, I've never seen a guy that provokes so much talk, good or bad. What do you feel attributes to that?"

Tebow probably should have asked him "attributes to that"? What does that mean? Instead, Tebow answered:

"You know, I'm not sure, but I know one thing is I am extremely blessed. God has blessed me with so many people that support me, a great family that supports me, great teammates and a coaching staff and that's what I'm focused on."

Then Sanders follows up with this doozy, still saying that Tim "provokes" the criticism:

"Do you feel like it is your throwing motion, is it your faith, what is it that provokes anger or hatred or disdain from some journalists and publicists?"

Tebow simply smiled and answered:

"You know, I'm not sure, something I learned early in college was to not worry about what I can't control, and that is something I can't control. But what I can control is my attitude, my effort, my focus, every single day, and that is what I'm trying to worry about."

 

Wow. Words of wisdom from a young man that seminary-trained pastors need to learn from. Tebow could have used that question to blast critics, or claim he is attacked for his faith. He could have told Deion Sanders what an absolutely stupid question that is, that he doesn't "provoke" anyone. He could talk about how hurtful it is to his family to have to see him be criticized, and talk about how it makes his job no fun at all.

Tim just fields the questions with a smile, is a nice, polite person, and respectfully answers all questions, even the very stupid ones. Like maybe a Christian would do.

This is what true leaders are made of. Leaders who inspire others to greatness don't pay attention to the critics, they don't portray themselves as victims or martyrs. They just stay focused on the task at hand, they praise their fellow workers, and are grateful for being granted the opportunity to lead. They don't behave as though they have a God-given right to be the leader. They respect everyone, even the critic, and they focus on the positive.

Tim's leadership has caused his team to rally around him. He was named the starter when his team lost 4 of their first 5 games with Kyle Orton as quarterback, and now the team has rallied around their new leader by keeping the games close and allowing Tebow to win them in the end.

Tebow is 4-1 as a starter. Kyle Orton was 1-4 as a starter.

Kyle Orton was the one who was supposed to lead the Broncos this year. He was the one with the training, experience, and credentials. He was the chosen one.

But the real leader has emerged, the one who can inspire his teammates. Now Tebow is the leader of the Broncos and he is grateful for the opportunity, and doesn't take it for granted, and you can bet it won't get to his head. He does nothing but publicly praise his teammates and coaching staff for their hard work.

So pastors, learn from young Tim Tebow. He's a leader. Some of you are crybaby tyrants, demanding respect and love from those you want to lead, and complaining about those who don't succumb to your leadership. You may be in charge, but you won't be a leader who inspires.

Thanks, Tim, for being such a great example."  

Real leadership doesn't have to tout its merits.  Nor do real leaders.

Our Entitlement Mentality.

What a couple of weeks it's been.  The "Occupy" movement, Joe Paterno/Penn State, Hummon Cain, etc.  My head hurts.

However, I noticed a common thread running through all the news reports, commentators, articles, and blogs.  A variation on one word:  deserve.

"Deserve", by definition, is "to be worthy, fit, or suitable for some reward or requital".  I'm not sure anyone, anywhere, at any time in the last couple of weeks (or longer) has even glanced at the dictionary.

The "occupiers" say that 1% of the people have the majority of the wealth and that they, the "99-Percent-ers", deserve to have their "fair share".

Joe Paterno, ingloriously ousted as Penn State's head football coach in the midst of an awful child sex-abuse investigation, "deserves" better.

(As an aside, I'm steaming over this.  Bobby Bowden gets fired for losing.  Paterno gets fired for this.  JoePa got the worst deal of the two.  I don't understand.  And my head hurts.)

Herman Cain is accused once twice numerous times of sexual harassment.  Innocent?  Perhaps.  Tainted?  Definitely.  His supporters unequivocally say he doesn't deserve this treatment.

(In Hummon's case it's like wrestling with a skunk.  You might win, but you're still gonna stink.)

We have mixed up our definitions.  Folks are using "deserve" when what they actually mean is "entitled" (same dictionary--I love the Interweb--says that "entitle" means "to give a right" to someone about something).

For instance, the OccuWhiners say they deserve some (or all, I can't tell) of the wealth those awful One Percenters have earned or inherited (or stolen, I can't tell).  What they really mean is that, by virtue of their being alive current position in society, they are entitled to this.  One idiot person said that they had over $35,000 in student loans.  For a degree in puppetry.  I looked, and there are no "Help Wanted" ads for recently graduated puppeteers.  Either it's a very volatile puppet-operators market, or there's no demand at all.  Either way, it sucks to be him.

Anyway, he's part of the movement now because, guess what?  He can't find a job.  Apparently the college's job-placement folks aren't doing their job-placing very well in his case.

My Princess has a Business degree from a well-respected, four-year university.  And the student loans to match.  She's part of an "occupy" movement as well.  She occupies her first part-time job at the Outlet Mall in Dawsonville four or five days a week, before she drives fifteen miles in the opposite direction to "occupy" her other part-time job at a beauty salon for three days a week.

Does she "deserve" better?  Absolutely.  Is she "entitled" to better?  Absolutely NOT.

Several factors contribute to her situation--the economy, her degree, geography, availability. etc.  But, instead of bitching and moaning about her situation in front of the camera, she...works.  Two jobs.  And still can't pay everything she owes.

If I'm in the 1%, then I'm 99% sure I'm 100% disgusted with hearing about what all these folks "deserve" every time I turn the TV on or read the news.

A wise man once said that we'd better be glad we don't get what we "deserve".  Or, as far as that goes, what we're "entitled' to. 

I agree.

My Veteran

I've said this before...

I'm thankful on this Veteran's Day for all the men and women who served in our military during peacetime and war. My uncle Robert was an Army Medic with the forces who stormed Normandy. I don't know all that he saw, but I know he gave me a Nazi blanket that he brought home after the war. He never talked about his service, and I never asked.

My cousin Raymond was a career Air Force man, retiring after more than 20 years, many of them during the Vietnam War. Thankfully he never had to go to Vietnam. Every time I asked him what his job was he told me he ran the bowling alley. I still don't know what he did, and I think that if he told me the truth he'd have to kill me. I'm glad I don't know.

My uncle Johnny was at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the "day which will live in infamy" and was on his way to church when the bombs started dropping. He spent the rest of the war in the Pacific theater.

Which brings us to my dad. Roscoe Athens Berry joined the Army in late December 1941, after growing up poor in the northeast Georgia mountain town of Dahlonega. He was twenty-one years old.  While this was where America's first major gold rush happened, from pictures and handed-down stories I don't think my Dad saw any of that wealth. He grew up in the country, raised by self-sufficient parents, Miles and Pearl, who grew the vegetables and raised the livestock they survived on.

I've seen pictures of Daddy at Civilian Conservation Corps camps from Rock Eagle, Georgia to Wilmington, North Carolina. He looks young and skinny...not malnourished, but like James Taylor says, "soft as smoke and hard as nails". Life is in front of him and he looks up to the challenge.

Then comes the war.

Daddy went from Fort Bragg to San Francisco to Guam, the Phillipines, Guadacanal, Samoa, New Zealand, and Australia. He told me one time that if he could live anywhere else in the world it would be New Zealand (Mama used to tell me I might have some relatives there...I don't know).

He never talked about his experiences voluntarily. If I asked him specifics he'd tell me, in short answers, what happened. I asked him once if he ever saw anyone die. He told me about spending a silent night in a two-man foxhole only to find his partner dead of a slit throat when the sun came up the next morning. He wondered why the Japanese didn't kill him as well.

Dad came out of the Army with Sergeant's stripes as a part of the 82nd Airborne Division and stayed in the reserves for some time after that. I used to wear his dress uniform jacket and hat when I was four or five years old. I don't know when he got rid of it, but one day it was gone.

If my dad, and thousands like him, had not been willing to serve we wouldn't enjoy the freedom we have today. No wonder they're called the "greatest generation". They did what they had to do, without complaining or making a big deal out of their service. It was what we would call today a strong work ethic. It was what they called doing the right thing.

In this age of putrid self-glorification there are few people who would do what they did without wanting everyone to notice and praise them.

Daddy taught me about patriotism. When we'd have parades in my hometown and the flag would pass by, he'd stand at attention and put his hand over his heart. There were times I thought it was corny and old-fashioned.

Oh, to stand next to him one more time and salute the flag.

When Dad died we draped an American flag on his casket. It's still folded like it was the day Mr. Matt Haisten gave it to my Mama. My sweetheart framed it for me and it sits on the bookcase right next to Daddy's picture in his dress uniform, smiling confidently at the world.

Every day I want to live up to his example.

Every day I miss him.  And Uncle Robert, and Uncle Johnny.  But mostly him.

I didn't say it often enough when I could have.  And should have.

Thank you, Daddy. I love you.

Velma Coppage.

Mama always said if you're going to say something nice about somebody, say it while they're here.

My mother-in-law, Velma Floyce Milton Coppage, is here.  But she's not.  She's one of the sweetest, humblest women I've ever known.  I can name on one hand (with fingers left over) all the people I've known whom I've never heard say anything bad about anybody.  Velma is one of them.  Her qualities live in the woman I love, so I get to see her every day.

Velma has Alzheimer's and is in an assisted living facility in Vero Beach, Florida.  The Queen, Princess, and I last saw her earlier this year when one of the Princes got married.  She was so happy to see us...but I think she was happy anytime she saw anyone.  She kept saying "I'm so glad y'all came to see me".  It hurt in a sweet way.

My Queen lives nine hours and a world away from her Mama.  Mine's ten minutes away.  It's rough on her, not being able to see or talk to her Mama.  I talk to my Mama every day.  It's not fair, or right.

It's hard to find a good woman, and you can't find Mamas like mine and Jennie's.

My heart breaks when I think of Velma.  The other side of that is that she's happy.  By default.

I heard a while back that Glen Campbell had Alzheimer's and was embarking on his self-confessed "last tour".  He wanted to play one more time while he still could, and he has his children playing with him.

This song is called "Ghost On The Canvas"...my favorite lyrics are

We dream in color, others they color their dreams
It takes one to know one...the spirit always knows what it sees

If the Spirit knows what it sees, I'm not worried about Mama, or Velma.  God watches over them, and that's good enough for me.