Phone a Friend


I watch little TV; maybe less than 5 hours during 2014.  However, I do remember the show that allowed the contestant to call a friend when he was stumped over a particular question.  He would call the person whom he felt would know the answer; sometimes it worked, and other times his friend would steer him wrong.  It was called a “lifeline.”

I love the concept.

For those who don’t know me, I am a deer hunter; a very serious bow hunter who spends days and days chasing deer through Iowa timbers.  I would say I am near-compulsive.  I work at it.  I have developed a plan.  I implement the plan and usually I am successful.  My office is covered with pictures and racks of my successes.

I hit one this week.  I felt good about the shot; but I didn’t find the deer immediately.  I went alone the next morning to begin tracking.  I lost the trail after 1000 yards.  I called my friend and co-worker, Ryan, to come and help me.  He regained the tracking, and I walked behind him.  I was tired, sweaty, thirsty, and my back and feet ached from walking over rough ground and up and down hills. Ryan persisted.  He kept finding the next drop of blood in the snow.  We caught up to the buck; note the picture at the top.

I have thought about Ryan’s act of kindness.  His back was aching too (he had back surgery on Friday- just one day after our adventure).  I would not have been successful without his help.

I remember my days as a younger director.  We had no extra staff; just the bare-bones staff: a cook, maintenance man, and an office manager and myself.  We got by, but it was only by sheer determination, youthful energy, and a drive to succeed.  But I did grow weary.  I did feel ready to quit by November of each year.   We never could actually afford the national CCCA conference, but my wife and I attended it every year.  It was there I reconnected with friends; it was there that I attended workshops and heard Bob Kobielush speak to us.  I came home rejuvenated.

I also can recall being wore out one spring and just happened to stop by one of our newer churches to look at their new building.  The senior pastor gave me the tour, and said, “Let’s go to Famous Dave’s BBQ.  I didn’t share my struggles to the pastor, but our visit lifted my spirits; I did not give up.

So my advice: Never go at it alone.

Part of the fun of being 60 years old is that I like to share my insight.  I love to give advice.  I want to help those younger be successful.  I am available.   I don’t want others to reach the end of November and not have a life-line to keep them on their feet.

Email me and let me take you out to Famous Dave’s!

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