Going First Class

Anna enrolled in hospice on August 18, 2008. She was eighty years old, afflicted with end stage dementia, and profoundly confused. On September 2, 2008, only two weeks after Anna’s enrollment, Shasta, her hospice nurse, called and informed me that Anna was “actively dying” and that the family asked her to notify me. They didn’t request that I come but I read the invitation between the lines.

When I arrived, Anna was unresponsive and the family was at her bedside along with our chaplain, Pete. Anna’s daughter, Karen, with a heartbroken expression, reported, “She’s just not the same”. If you’ve stood at the bedside of someone dying you know how helpless and awkward it can feel. You desperately want to say something to make it easier, but it’s not supposed to be easy. However, I’ve found that it is appropriate, respectful and meaningful to celebrate a person’s life by sharing memories and stories, out loud, so the person can hear. Can you think of anything sweeter or more satisfying to hear during your final moments than your family and friends talking about what you’ve been and meant to each other? What a wonderful way to begin saying goodbye.

So I asked Karen, “Are there any sayings that your mom used to tell you when you were growing up that you will always remember?” Karen thought a minute and replied, “There are two things that mom used to say, ‘Don’t slam that door too hard because you might have to walk back through it’; and she always told me, ‘Karen, remember, it only costs 10 % more to go first class.’. “ Karen added, “I never forgot that.” And now, thanks to Anna and Karen, I don’t think I will either.

But what does it mean to “go first class”? Does it mean being better, best, first, perfect, or always winning? Jim Tressel, football coach for the Ohio State Buckeyes, wrote a book titled, “The Winners Manual For The Game of Life” (2008). It’s a condensed version of his 400 page “Winners Manual” he presents to every new freshman player. It’s a compilation of philosophical principles and practical wisdom that he’s collected during his 23 years of coaching. And surprisingly, it’s more about being “a winner in the game of life” than about winning at football.

Some may disagree, especially after Ohio State’s loss to unranked Purdue yesterday (October 17, 2009, “A day that will live on in infamy”), but I’m persuaded that Jim Tressel’s record, character and reputation rank him as a “first class” football coach, and more importantly, a first class human being. And his book has some valuable insights into what it means to “go first class”. So here are some tidbits.

Coach Tressel has studied the lives, methods and philosophies of successful coaches. One of his “heroes” is John Wooden, the legendary basketball coach of the UCLA Bruins. Coach Wooden penned his definition of “success” in his 1972 autobiography titled “They Call Me Coach”; “Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing that you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.” Coach Tressel, in his “Winners Manual” added, “…for the group”. Ponder this definition and the truths will become self-evident.

Do you see that “Going First Class”, being a “winner in the game of life”, isn’t about being best? It’s about doing and giving your best. It’s about doing whatever you put your hand to with “all your heart” (Colossians 3:23-24); not out of “selfish ambition” (Philippians 2:3), but for the highest good of those who are counting on you; who depend upon you, “for the group”.

And the true measure of success isn’t external, but internal. There’s danger in basing our value upon comparisons. It can foster either a false sense of pride or insignificance. That’s why I love the mantra that Coach Tressel has his team recite in the tunnel, just before taking the field: “I am only one, but I am one. I can’t do everything but I can do something. And the something I can do I ought to do. And what I ought to do, by the grace of God I shall do.” I believe that this is what it means to “go first class”, to be a “winner in the game of life”.

Now, for a message to us who can so quickly become armchair critics, spectators criticizing from a safe comfortable distance: “It’s not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly….who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never known neither victory nor defeat” ---- Teddy Roosevelt.

In closing, let’s ask ourselves, if the game of life were to end tonight would we be winners? And never forget, “It only costs you 10% more to go first class.”

You Have to Understand the Life of a Thing

Thurman was a soft-spoken, gentle seventy year-old man referred to Hospice for prostate cancer. He was occupationally disabled from a stroke at age 38, but he remained fairly active and independent until his cancer forced him to his bed. He and his wife, Lillian, lived in Ohio, but they regretted moving from Kentucky; because their history, friends and hearts were still there.

Thurman loved flowers, especially tulips. His hospital bed was strategically situated in front of their living room picture window so he could see his large circular flower garden in the center of the front yard. One day Thurman pointed out a rare flowering vine growing up their front porch post. He loved its beautiful flowers. He told me that it was a start from the vine of a friend in Kentucky and that its origin had been traced back to Civil War times. It was the first plant I heard about with its own genealogy. Thurman recounted, “When I first got it, it wouldn’t grow. Well, it grew but as soon as the flowers blossomed they turned dark and fell off. I figured it needed more water so I watered it every day; but the flowers still fell off. Lillian told me to just throw it away, but I decided to learn all I could about it. So I called my friend and he told me that I was doing the opposite of what it needed. I was over watering it. When I cut back on the water the flowers blossomed, stayed on, and it was beautiful. I told Lillian, ‘See, what you wanted to throw away.’” Thurman reflected, looked me in the eyes and concluded, “You know, you have to understand the life of a thing.”

What a nugget of truth, of practical wisdom! It’s an example of what King Solomon declared over three thousand years ago; “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. Like an earring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, is a wise reprover to an obedient ear” (Proverbs 25:11-12)

Flowers come in many varieties and colors. Some need direct sunlight while others require shade. Some thrive in dry conditions and some need much water. Some like heat while others require cool weather. People, like flowers, don’t thrive under the same conditions either. You have to understand, accept and cooperate with the life of a thing in order to help it grow into what God has designed it to be. A quote from the book, “Parents Effectiveness Training” captures this truth: (I’m paraphrasing) “Acceptance is the fertile soil that enables a seed to grow into the beautiful flower it was designed to be. The power is not in the soil but in the seed. The soil only releases the life within.”

Understanding is the foundation of true acceptance and we can’t help someone become what they can be until we accept them just the way they are. So let’s determine to be spouses, parents, teachers, and people of understanding; for the hearts, souls and minds of people are holy ground.

“A plan in the heart of man is like deep water, but a man of understanding draws it out” (Proverbs 20:5)

Is It Ever Too Late?

This is part two of a two part series about Andy. Let me bring you up to date. Andy was referred to Hospice for colon cancer at age 65. He was married “under the influence” and annulled the marriage three days later. He had no children and depended upon his sister and brother-in-law much of his adult life. He was living with his sister when referred to hospice. Despite Andy’s hopes for recovery his condition worsened.

It’s at this stage of his illness that Andy, like many patients and families, faced a crisis of hope, a crisis of belief. He could no longer fend off the reality of his terminal illness. He faced the developmental challenge of shifting his hope from the physical to the spiritual, from the temporal to the eternal. His sister, Marie, stated, “I think he’s ready. The preacher talked with him yesterday.” But when I asked Andy if he made peace with God, he replied, “No”.

Since writing last week’s column I’ve become increasingly disturbed over how we, and especially I, fail to directly address spiritual questions and concerns with those we love. Why do we leave it up to the preachers? I know we shouldn’t force the door open but we can knock, we can ask, can’t we? We frequently convince ourselves that we are waiting for the “right time” when we may really be waiting for the “easy time”, which may never come.

Our excuses for remaining silent are varied, and some valid, but the outcome can be tragic. Avoidance at this point may leave the person alone in his crisis and despair. He may want to shift his hope but not know how. He may need a bridge of truth upon which to cross over. He may need someone to talk with about his fears, his questions, to help him clarify what he really believes. As wise King Solomon said, “A plan in the heart of a man is like deep water but a man of understanding draws it out.” (Proverbs 20:5-6).

We don’t have to have all the answers just the courage to ask the questions, to “draw it out”. Let’s run to the spiritual battle, not away from it. Let’s not let another wounded soldier fall.

Now, as I promised last week, “the rest of the story”. Andy was in the hospital awaiting nursing home placement. One day, as I was talking with him about finances and assigning a Power of Attorney, out of the blue he asked, “Is it ever to late to reach out to the tall man?” It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. I asked, “Do you mean to God?” and he answered, “Yeah”. I assured him that it was never too late but he stated he didn’t know how. We talked about the basics of confession, asking for forgiveness and surrendering our lives to God, of taking God at His word. I encouraged him to pray but he responded, “But I never was a person to express how I feel. Could you bring me some forms that I could look at to know how to pray?” We talked about being real, just talking to God like we were talking to one another. I asked if I could pray for him, and shortly after we started, he took over. He sure did well for a person who never expressed how he felt.

As I conclude this story, I’m still struggling, still asking myself where the line is between being too passive and too pushy. I’m afraid of being disrespectful, of trespassing, but I’m also afraid of being negligent. I’m not sure where I’ll end up, but I’m sure I’ll be closer to the line than I was before, what about you?

“But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet, and the people are not warned, and a sword comes and takes a person from them… his blood I will require from the watchman’s hand.” (Ezekiel 33:6)