Tag: Light From Many Lamps

I have enjoyed these biweekly readings and have learned so much from being pushed to thoughtfully apply the concepts to the practice of my own leadership.  I am so thankful that this fantastic idea was included in the course curriculum.  (Thank you “Leadership Prof”!)

This week I was drawn to the excerpt from Robert Browning.  There are so many aspects of this particular section that appealed to me at this stage in my life and highlights leadership lessons that I have learned over the years and need to continue to apply in my leadership contexts.

1. I enjoyed reading poetry again. In my day to day activities I am not exposed to poetry.  Or rather, in my day to day activities, I don’t intentionally choose to read poetry.  It was a nice change and a bit of a challenge to my right brain.  As leaders, we need to be well-rounded, and I sometimes forget to look outside of my four walls for inspiration and enjoyment.
2. The poem was written in honour of another leader. In particular, a historical person whose writings had profoundly impacted Browning’s own worldview.  More and more I find that I am drawn to both the teachings and the life stories of men and women who were not only leaders in their own time period, but continue to have positive influence centuries later.  Browning had never met Rabbi ben Ezra, but knew his teachings well enough that he could choose to use creative license and write the poem as though the Rabbi was penning the words of wisdom himself.  To honour this man and his wisdom in this way was creative and represents how impactful this historical figure was in Browning’s life.  I also want to honour those who have gone before and paved the way for me, and the poem inspired me to act on this desire.
3. It encourages us to value the difficult times in life. There has not been one difficult season in my life that I enjoyed at the time, but each and every one has taught me something and shaped me into who I am today.  So much so that I am able to now “consider it all joy… when [I] encounter various trials…” (James 1:2, NASB).  I am encouraged by the reminder that there is both temporal and eternal value in the trials of life.  This is a leadership lesson that was hard to learn, but so valuable.
4. It encourages us to look at the entire story that is our life. “Child,’ said the Voice, ‘I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”  (Lewis, 1954, p. 139)  C. S. Lewis reminds us in his allegory that our life is a story that enfolds chapter by chapter, line by line.  John Eldredge, a more contemporary writer reminds us of the same:  “Life, you’ll notice, is a story…. When it comes to figuring out this life you’re living, you’d do well to know the rest of the story.”   (Eldredge, 2004, pp. 3, 4.)  When we view life as a complete story, we cannot afford to invest our time looking backwards, but look forward to the next chapter, and anticipate and plan for a happy ending.  As Browning so wisely advises us:  “Grow old along with me, The best is yet to be….” (as cited in Watson, 1951).

How about you?  Have you ever considered your life as a story, like a novel that is written in chapters?  I look forward to your thoughts.

References

Eldredge, J.  (2004).  Epic:  The story God is telling.  Nashville, TN:  Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Lewis, C. S.  (1954).  The horse and his boy.  New York, NY:  Penguin Books.

Watson, L.E. (1951)  Light from many lamps.  New York, NY:  Simon and Schuster.

Sometime in the future I am going to look back on this website and all my blogs and remember how much I have enjoyed returning to a more academic style of writing. As I read through the writings in Part 5 of Light From Many Lamps I was inspired to work harder, be more disciplined, be the master of my own destiny. My initial plan was to focus on one of these readings – and then I got to Part 6. And I realized after reading the Phillips Brooks excerpt that I needed to switch to a more personal style this time.  Ironically, the unit notes also speak of the value of story-telling, so this is a story.

Time is short. This reality has never been more evident to me than it is right now. Tears well up in my eyes very easily. To be honest, the excerpt from Brooks sermon convicted me; the poem at the end by Charles Hanson Towne wrecked me.

Let me explain. I wrote in an earlier blog that I am keenly aware of the value of work in a man’s life because I have known two men who were addiction free for years who ended up returning to their drug and alcohol addiction after an injury put them off work. One of those is my brother. He is currently alive and well and addiction free. The other was a former youth pastor, and my daughters’ landlord. Jason has died. He was 31 years old.

We didn’t have a close relationship. And I can’t and won’t go into all the details because this is a public blog, and his close loved ones deserve discretion. The memorial was an amazing testimony of the years that he was drug free and the huge impact that he had on so many people during that time. But the pastor summed it up best when he said at the funeral: “This room is full of people who feel they could have, should have, done more….” And that is the stark reality. My reality.

I meant to leave a thank you card for this couple many, many times. I meant to stop in and thank him personally for blessing my daughters, above and beyond all expectations. I meant to find out what they enjoyed to do as a couple so I could bless them in return. I meant to tell him that I missed him at last years youth conference, having no idea that I would miss him again this year, but for a much more permanent and heart wrenching reason. So many “I meant to’s”; so many “I wish I would have’s”.  So many missed opportunities.

I have lost people in my life but no prior loss has left me quite so raw, or so keenly aware that none of us is promised tomorrow. In my leadership roles I have never been so committed to seek out the and eliminate the missed opportunities.  To use my time to encourage, to inspire, to affirm, to heal and mend and restore relationships, to forgive, to accept forgiveness. Time is short.

I am writing this somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Kenya trying to weep discretely so as to not make those around me on the plane uncomfortable. One of my fellow students asked me after my last Light From Many Lamps blog if one could find meaning and purpose outside of their job and this is one of the many examples in my life where I would answer with a resounding “yes”.  The community based organization that I am a board member of, both in Canada and Kenya, focuses on providing an education and life skills to young adults who would have no future and no hope otherwise. Blessing them, so they in turn can be a blessing. Encouraging them in their walk of faith, so they can live to the high standards they have been called to. Helping them to see the meaning, the purpose, the value in their lives. Training them so they can lead others. Just like Jason did with multiple people each and every day he was in youth ministry.

I don’t intend to miss any opportunity.

Reference

Watson, L.E.  (1951). Light from Many Lamps.  New York, NY:  Simon and Schuster, Inc.

The story that impressed upon me in this week’s reading was that of Thomas Carlyle.  The writings of Carlyle echo those of John Burroughs, a man who also realized that work was a blessing and that the absence of work was wretchedness, dejection and despair (Watson, 1951).  Many working people set their sights on the day when they no longer need to work, and I admit that I often do the same.  Yet I am arrested by Carlyle’s statement:  “A man perfects himself by working.”  (Watson, 1951)  Indeed as a leader I need to savour each moment I have been given to work, both for my own personal growth and for the benefit of those I lead, and plan to engage myself in meaningful activity once I leave the workplace.

As in the last series of readings I am struck not only by Carlyle’s inspired writings, but also by his background.  Here is a man who persisted in finding his calling; he did not find it immediately.  From the human viewpoint he had tried professions that would be associated with the highest calling – pastor, teacher – and was humble enough to change direction when he realized that he had made a mistake.  Teaching and pastoring was not what he was called to do, no matter how noble those professions are.  To some critics it likely appeared that he had “settled” on being a writer, but writing was his life’s work, and what he was intended to contribute to the world.  As a leader I need to remember to be humble and admit when I mistakes, change direction when I need to, and not concern myself with what others consider prestigious or noble.

As I reflect on my own circumstances I am going to explore three of the many reasons why this story stands out above the rest.  First, I have spent considerable time reflecting on the last 2 years on my own work as my calling.  I had the opportunity to see John Bevere preach the message found in the attached video, and I am as moved and impacted today as I was years ago.  Ironically, the second example in this video tells the story of one of this year’s Grade 12 graduates in our youth group.  He feels the pressure of following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps to go into the ministry and become a pastor, but in spite of the pressure and others’ disappointment he has chosen to go to university to become an accountant.  Similar to Carlyle he would not find fulfillment or happiness in the ministry.  Despite the high calling that the ministry is, it will mean nothing in the end for this young man, or for any of us, if that is the path we take but it is not what we were meant to do.  As a leader in this context I need to encourage these youth, the leaders of the next generation, to chase after and pursue their calling.

Second, I have a twenty year old daughter who is still wrestling with finding her destiny and her career.  I am encouraged by Carlyle’s story because it reminds me that we don’t have to get it right the first time; if we are humble, we can always correct our course.  I started with a Bachelor of Science Degree in Biology because I was going to be a doctor – I had to correct that course and become a physical therapist, which also meant that the years in my first degree were, from a humanistic point of view, a waste of time and money.  Years later I am in an administrative position.  I have had to correct my course, and my daughter(s) may yet have to make some course corrections.  As a leader in my home I need to lead by example and influence my daughters to find their life purpose, even if it means changing course.

Third, I have personally experienced the detrimental and devastating effects of men (gender specific) not having meaningful work.  Due to the personal nature of the situations I am not able to expound on this thought fully, but now have been personally affected by the lives of two men, both free from drug use for over a decade, succumb back to their drug addiction because of the depression, dejection and despair that comes with not having work.  I have observed first hand the truth in Carlyle’s writing:  “In idleness alone is there perpetual despair.”  (Watson, 1951)  As a leader I need to remember, and remind others, that work truly is a blessing, and that “labor is life”.  (Watson, 1951)

How often do we dismiss from our minds that our work is truly a blessing?  How often do we complain about having to go to work?  Do we take the time to contemplate how work sharpens us, grows us, perfects us?  I look forward to your thoughts.

References

MessengerTV. (2016, Nov 9)  Called – John Bevere [Video file].  Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5jCQkK6Rs8

Watson, L. E. (1951). Light from Many Lamps.  New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, Inc.