What ever happened to trust?

Recently a friend invited me to visit her at work--the Chrysler Headquarters in Auburn Hills, Michigan. I hadn't been to Chrysler since my brief employment following college graduation. Those were the pre-Auburn Hills days, when a person could walk into the main building, tell the front desk you were applying for a job, fill out the app, get tested and hired all in one day. I never once pulled out my ID to prove who I was. My word was good enough.

I must admit I was a bit overwhelmed at the new headquarters. First, I had to have an official invite from my friend. When I entered the building from the "Visitor Only" parking area in the garage, I had only one choice of direction--the "up" escalator that deposited me into a huge imposing lobby blocked by a security desk that ran the width of the room.


The security agent behind the front desk told me to enter my name on the computer in the kiosk to see if I was "in the system." Funny - I've always thought being "in the system" was a bad thing. But here, it was good.

Yes, indeed, there I was. In the system. I inwardly smiled when my name appeared on the screen. Then I saw a flash of light as the computer camera took my picture which would be sent to my friend who would verify that I was indeed the person she had invited. I just hoped she could recognize me by my forehead because that's pretty much what the camera captured. "Do you want a retake?" the security agent asked. "Nah," I replied. "I'm sure it's not going into the yearbook or anything embarrassing like that, is it?" No response.

She handed me a lanyard with a visitor badge that I had to wear at all times. It was my ticket into the secure part of the building. It was also my exit pass. For a brief moment I panicked--What if I inadvertently lose the lanyard? Do I remain the property of Chrysler forever? Then I remembered the picture of my forehead which was now probably a permanent part of the intellectual property of Chrysler. Surely they'd release me once they matched my face to that section of my head.

"Have a seat and wait for your host to come and escort you in," the security agent instructed. As I waited, I watched the comings and goings of other visitors. No one was allowed in without an escort who met them on the "secure" side of the desk. And everyone was escorted back to the security desk when their visit concluded. The security guard searched backpacks and briefcases of exiting visitors.

When my friend arrived, I couldn't enter until I scanned my visitor card. The computer recorded my entrance time. After our very pleasant visit and brief tour of the building, my friend escorted me back to the front lobby where a second security guard asked for my lanyard. If I was who I said I was, the security door would release me and record my time of departure. From that point, I only had one choice--take the "down" escalator back to the security of the visitor garage.

Several years ago entering and exiting the Chrysler Headquarters was a breeze. I worked in the legal department and we didn't even carry ID badges. Today we're scanned as we enter, searched as we exit, and then reposited to the parking garage. "Thanks for stopping by. Now leave." 

At what point did Chrysler have to implement such extreme security measures? Possibly when a trusted employee stole a confidential document or some intellectual property--or maybe when a visitor trespassed into a restricted area. Chrysler doesn't have anything to hide. But they do have a lot to protect--and understandably so. It's unfortunate that the misdeeds of a few people affect everyone else.

Sometimes we're tempted to make ourselves as secure as the Chrysler building. We block out anyone who tries to become close because years ago one person stole something--one person trespassed where they shouldn't. Granted, some people are unhealthy and dangerous and we should protect ourselves from them. However, not everyone should pay the price for the misdoings of one--or even a few.

Maybe we need to look past the bad photo of the forehead and see the bigger picture by looking people in the eye again. It's worth removing unnecessary barriers if trust can be restored.

Presbyterian minister Frank Crane said it best - “We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.”

The Total Lifestyle Workout

I reached an all-new low last night. I texted my husband.

What's wrong with that? you might ask. Well, I was sitting in the family room and he was reading a book in another room. I was too lazy . . . I mean it was more convenient to simply text from my comfortable position than to get up from the couch and talk to him face-to-face.Why look someone in the eye when you can stare at your phone. Right?

To make matters worse, we had just returned from a one-mile after-dinner walk so we could "get some fresh air and exercise" all in the name of better health. If I could walk a mile with someone, why couldn't I walk down the hall for a simple discussion with the same person? 

The same question could be asked of the athlete who takes pride in how physically fit he is, but he vies for the prime parking spot closest to the door in order to walk a shorter distance. What about the aerobics instructor who pushes her students to the point of exhaustion, but she can't push her shopping cart back to the cart corral.

Please understand. I'm not being critical. I'm just pointing out a huge inconsistency in our society. The inconsistency doesn't apply only to exercise. It affects life in general. We act and talk one way in one setting, but a completely different way in another. The teenage son of a church deacon nailed it when he told his Sunday School teacher, "You think my dad is a spiritual giant? You should see him at home. He's like two different people. He knows how to turn it on and turn it off. I wish he'd be a deacon at home. Then he'd be a lot easier to live with."

Think about this . . .

• What if we talked as kindly to our family members as we do our customers?
• What if we served those closest to us the same way we serve others when we're hoping for a hefty tip?
• What if we listened at home as carefully as we do in our meetings at work?
• What if we tried as hard to please our spouses as we do our bosses?

Isn't it funny how people-pleasing or a paycheck can make a difference how we treat people? It's almost like politeness and respect clock in at 9 and out at 5. Then we relax and become who we really are.

Someone said what we do defines who we are. I think who we are determines what we do. What would happen if politeness and respect became who we are and not simply what we do?

Here's my proposal: Let's never quit "working out." Let's determine to be consistent with who we are wherever we are. We can call it The Total Lifestyle Workout. We won't break a sweat and results will be realized immediately! I think it will help all of us shape up.



I'm going to start right now--just as soon as I put this grocery cart back where it belongs.

One Last Time

Earlier this week, 149 people boarded a Germanwings Airbus headed from Barcelona to Dusseldorf, Germany. None of them, including the pilot and flight crew, had any idea that it would be their final flight--their last trip anywhere. The co-pilot locked himself in the cockpit and intentionally steered the plane into the French Alps killing everyone on board, including himself. A horrific tragedy, yet one that leaves us with some sobering thoughts.

How many "last times" have you had in your life? How many more will you have?

Some "last times" celebrate victories, like--

• The last diaper change because your son's finally potty trained.
• The last cap and gown you purchase because all your kids graduated.
• The last college exam because you earned your degree.

Other "last times" are a little emotional--

• The last time your son sleeps in his bedroom down the hall because he's getting married tomorrow. 
• The last time your father drives a car because you had to take his keys away.
• The last time you kiss your mother goodbye.

Little did the families of the Germanwings passengers know when they dropped their loved ones off at the Barcelona airport that it would be the last time. And, the families waiting in Dusseldorf for their return didn't have a "last time" to welcome them home.

Wouldn't the world be a softer, kinder place if we lived every day as if it was our last? The Psalmist said, "Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom" (Psalm 90:12). We're not guaranteed tomorrow, but here we are, alive today--one more day to walk in wisdom.
 
Whatever you do today, it may be the last time. Do what you can to make it last.

Taking the Bite Out of Rejection

Nobody wants to be rejected. It opens the door to discouragement, defeat and low self-esteem. Rejection can become the ultimate dream-killer for a person who hinges his success on someone else's nod of acceptance.

Did you know that Agatha Christie experienced five years worth of rejections before a manuscript was accepted. J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter series) was rejected twelve times; and Louis L'Amour heard "no" two hundred times before he heard "yes" from a publisher.

Rejection gives us three choices: (1) Give up. (2) Try again. (3) Improve. One publisher rejected the first 100 pages of Peter Benchley's book Jaws. Benchley started over from scratch and ended up selling 20 million copies! He chose door number three.

Recently I've become intrigued with the television show "Shark Tank" - where fledgling business people and entrepreneurs present their ideas/inventions before a panel of five "sharks" in hopes of luring them to make an investment for a percentage of their business. The risk of rejection is pretty high. Not only is the risk high--if the idea is rejected, it takes place before an audience of millions. As if that's not enough, the shows are taped and rerun for the enjoyment of those who lick their chops over rejection left-overs.

The sharks are "self-made million/billionaires" who are ready to pounce on what smells like a lucrative opportunity. The testimonials that are shown periodically certainly indicate that those who are fortunate enough to land a deal really do fare well, thanks to the financial backing, experience and influence of the Shark. However, each investee who enters the Tank takes the risk of being humiliated by public rejection.

Someone said, "Rejection is an imperative test of one's character." Do we give up quickly and skulk away, crushed by words of criticism? Or, do we build on those words and make necessary adjustments to become the best person we can. A mentor once told me there are two types of criticism: Deserved and Undeserved. She said when receiving deserved criticism, take it to heart and learn from it. "But," she continued, "If you receive undeserved criticism, don't reject it. Instead, search for the tiniest tidbit of truth and do what you can to improve."

Shark Tank admittedly exudes more entertainment than it does education. However, some valuable lessons about rejection have emerged from the Tank:

• Cocky people don't get deals. The sharks can be as snarky as they want; but, if they sense cockiness from an investee, they back off. Like the young arrogant guy who told the sharks he expected them to work as many hours a day as he did. Or the woman who constantly pushed back as the sharks tried to give their input about her clothing design. Who wants to work with an arrogant, unteachable partner? The sharks don't.
• Don't give up. In one of the earlier seasons of Shark Tank, a man was turned down because, although his idea was great, he didn't have enough information about the business end of his venture. He reappeared on the show a few seasons later and told the sharks, "When I was rejected last time, I walked out and held my head high, but I took your advice and worked on my numbers." He began to rattle off percentages and dollar amounts that were so impressive, four of the sharks ended up fighting each other for a piece of the action. C.S. Lewis was right when he said, "Failures are fingerprints on the road to achievement."
• If you don't believe in yourself, neither will anyone else. A few times, the sharks have made deals with people simply because they were impressed with the person's enthusiasm over their own product. A teenager who created a cosmetic product and started a fledgling business was mildly mocked by one of the sharks because of her youth and inexperience. After four rejected her request, the last shark standing grabbed on to her enthusiasm and sealed a deal. "I really like your product," he explained, "but more than that, I'm impressed with you and your attitude. I'm going to make you a millionaire." And, he did!
• Pressure is healthy. Imagine the tension of standing in front of a panel of potential investors with television cameras pointed at your face. On top of that, the sharks are peppering you with questions about your sales, gross profit, purchase orders, marketing strategies and other staggering subjects, expecting you to have it all memorized and ready to recite at the drop of a hat. The sharks want to see if a potential partner will fold under pressure. One nervous woman did fold, crying as she explained, "I'm just a housewife, you know. How can I do justice to this business when I also have to manage a house and a family?" The sharks swam the other way.

The chances of you or me appearing on Shark Tank are pretty slim. But, the chance of us wading through the shark tank of life are pretty definite. Learning lies in the midst of rejection. We can do a "dead man's float" and let the waves of discouragement control our destiny. Or, we can accept the learning curve and swim to success.

Every one of life's bites carries a valuable lesson. I think it's worth being bitten, don't you?

The Age of Irrelevance - Part One

In the movie Ocean's Eleven, Reuben Tishkoff makes a deal with shyster Willy Bank to go in half in building a casino. Danny Ocean warns Reuben not to make the deal with Bank, but Reuben responds, "Danny I gotta do dis!" Of course, Bank turns the tables on Reuben and coerces him out of the investment he made. As a result, Reuben slips into a serious bedridden depression, rendering him pretty much useless.

When Danny confronts him about what he did to Reuben, Bank replies, "He's old. He's irrelevant. Let him roll over and die."

The movie is pretty funny, and in the end Bank gets his. However the Reuben vs. Bank vs. Ocean segment is pretty eye-opening.

Who determines when a person has become irrelevant?

An attractive, talented young woman in her 30s lamented that she feels she is no longer needed, convinced that the ship of opportunity has sailed as a younger generation pushes her into irrelevance.

A man in his 50s is a musical genius. However, he has been relegated to working with senior citizens because he is considered too old to capture the more modern styles of music. Now, instead of flowing in his natural giftings, he is forced to function in an area where there may be a need, but passion is lacking.

When did man assume the responsibility of putting a cap on God-given gifts? Some people cap themselves when they become convinced they are no longer relevant, as they glide through a passionless life. Others listen to age-biased, self-serving Willy Bank-type people who squeeze whatever value they can out of a person and then toss the peelings to the side. God never caps His gifts. He grows and inspires and perfectly connects the gifts to the needs.

I'm not going to share my exact age; however, I will admit that I am enjoying the benefits of Medicare. At my senior age, I lead the young adult class at our church. Currently, we are studying the book Experiencing God - Young Adult Version. The book takes the readers through the process of making important decisions that will affect them for the rest of their lives. When I first started reading the book, panic almost set in as I realized nearly all of my life-affecting decisions have already been made and I am now living the consequences (good and bad) of those decisions. My class, on the other hand, is just at the threshold of facing those important decisions, and I have the privilege of walking through the process with them.

The class doesn't judge me for my age or stodginess, and I don't look down on them for their inexperience and immaturity. We have a mutual respect for one another. They know I love their excitement and energy; and I know they appreciate my wisdom and experience (and my scrumptious brownies). They feed my "I gotta do dis!" passion and I feed their "You better do dis!" need.

Maybe it's time for those who feel they are irrelevant to put the "I gotta do dis!" passion into gear and start making tracks. After all, they've been around the block a few times. And, if the GPS isn't working for them, they can always rely on the good old-fashioned folded paper map to find their way. It's all relevant, isn't it?

Closing Our Borders

 

During a recent medical check-up, my doctor advised that my husband and I have the DTP shot--Diphtheria, Tetanus and Pertussis (whooping cough).  "Especially if you're going to be around newborn babies," she cautioned.

Since we are being blessed with two brand-new grand babies within two months of each other, we decided to lean on the side of caution and get shot--for the sake of Evelyn Elizabeth and Baby James. Today I have a nagging ache in my upper right arm, a reminder of yesterday's visit to the health clinic. The guy who said "love hurts" may have been on to something.

My consternation over the whole shot thing came when I learned that our country has experienced a revival of whooping cough, measles and TB. I thought those maladies were conquered years ago! How did they creep back into our country?

Open borders.

No, I'm not going political in this blog. However, it's no secret that the recent flood of immigrants has reintroduced certain viruses that had been under control for decades. In taking a closer look, we can see a couple of similarities between our nation's borders and '"borders" of protection that we should establish for our own mental, emotional and spiritual protection.

1. Caution vs. compassion - When Ellis Island opened in the late 1800s, it became the protective border for the U.S.   Immigrants were screened and examined. Those deemed too unhealthy to enter were deported. Today some might consider such screenings as a lack of compassion or an invasion of privacy. But, think about it. A cautionary physical exam was probably the most compassionate act any immigrant could have received. Contagions were discovered and treated immediately.  It was healing for them and protection for others.

Be careful that your compassion doesn't go overboard and you allow unhealthy, infectious people into your life who remain a danger to themselves, as well as to you and others. Sometimes caution is the greatest act of compassion. 


2. Changing values - During the years of the heaviest immigration, only around 2% of aliens were deported, as Boards of Special Inquiry screened each case.The boards were not so much concerned with preventing immigration as they were with preventing the immigration of those who might become public charges. (See article at www.devlin-family.com/EllisHappened.htm) America was the land of opportunity and it was expected that immigrants would work hard to make the American Dream a reality. Today, our immigration laws are much more relaxed and the expectation of hard-working immigrants has been traded for generous government handouts whether people work or not. This is very unfortunate, because people who don't work won't develop muscle, and they end up  becoming weak and dependent.

It is vital that we establish unchanging, unrelaxed values in our own lives. For example, who am I willing to help? When should my assistance end? What do I need to see from them to determine if my support should continue? Without our own solid, consistent values, we can easily enable others rather than empower them; and the values they create for themselves will be weak or, worse, non-existent.


Our country has changed and will continue to do so. Whether or not we agree with the direction our nation is headed, we all need a periodic dose of reality to remind us that disregarding cautionary actions or breaching our own values weakens our boundaries. I would rather endure an inconvenient  shot of reality than live in unhealthy oblivion.

If I allow open borders in my life, Evelyn Elizabeth and Baby James could be exposed to something more harmful than whooping cough.

Move your furniture!

A funny thing happened at our house recently. Let me go back ten years and bring you up to date.

When we moved into the home where we currently live, we purchased new furniture for the living room because we had moved our old furniture into the family room of the new house.

Over the years, the living room (and the new furniture) has remained unused because we spend most of our time in the family room. I have religiously dusted and vacuumed the living room, and even treated the leather furniture, sometimes wondering what purpose it had.

A few months ago my husband made a trip to Florida and brought back some of his mother's possessions, including beautiful antique hand-carved furniture. Three of the ornate pieces landed in my office. Now we had TWO rooms of unused furniture. Our home was quickly turning into a museum.

At first I enjoyed the antique pieces in the office. Although they didn't quite blend in with the African decor, they did look classy. One day, I was busy at my desk and decided I wanted to change positions and sit on a more comfortable seat. Alas! No where in the office to sit. It had furniture, but not for practical use.

I approached my husband with the idea to move the living room furniture into the office and relocate his mother's antique pieces into the living room. He (reluctantly) agreed and we began the moving process. After a few sweaty hours, the switch was complete.

Now with my mother-in-law's treasured possessions on display, the living room looks even more like a museum. The ornate furniture has found a perfect place, but it remains unused. And, I still dust it religiously.

However, an amazing transformation took place in the office. After we moved and resettled the furniture, I walked down the hall and glanced in the office. There sat my husband on the couch that had been unused for years. Grinning at me, he said, "This couch really is comfortable. I found my new reading spot." He had even adjusted the track lighting so it would illuminate his new corner of the world.

The next morning, I fixed my coffee and avoided the family room. Instead, I made my way to the office to test the comfortable couch. Ahhh. My husband was right. Now I had found my new morning quiet-time spot.

A few days later, my husband announced, "If you need me, I'll be in the study." Study? We have a study? I watched as he disappeared into the office.

It's amazing the transformation that can take place just by moving a few pieces of furniture to a different room. The office suddenly transitioned into a study. The furniture that looked stiff in the living room was actually extremely comfortable and useful. Making the move redefined the purpose and identity of the furniture AND the room. And, furniture that is used more often requires less dusting! Go figure.

Our lives are a lot like furniture. We can be stiff, ornate dust collectors, silently communicating "Do not touch." Or we can reposition ourselves (no matter how inconvenient) and discover a new sense of fulfillment from which others can benefit.Just because God created us from dust doesn't mean we should spend a lifetime collecting it.

Now please excuse me while I make my way to the office--I mean the study.