Leaving behind an old year and entering the next is a 3-step process at our house.
Thank God for every blessing received in the past year.
Bury the things that need left behind.
Dream big about what is ahead.
Each New Year’s Eve, just after sunset, we focus on burying the things we need to leave behind. It is a tradition that started on a particularly tough year at our house, but has continued in better times. Part of growing is knowing when it is time to leave something behind.
Because I got to author this ritual, it needed to include a feel for days of glory and a flair for the dramatic, but allow me to keep my thoughts private.
Here is our ritual:
I build a very crude funeral pyre (not as cool as the one shown above)
Everyone writes down on paper those things to leave behind
Set the papers on the pyre
At 6:00pm, push the pyre out into the pool and light it on fire
Reflect prayerfully as the flames consume the past
Stay, leave or do whatever you want. It takes 10 minutes.
If you would like to come, just let me know to expect you. Bring your own sheet already written out, or come early enough to put it together.
I have worked with Dennis Stone at Overhead Door for a long time. When he announced that his retirement would be effective at the end of 2018, I had mixed emotions.
Dennis joined the company as President in February 2001. He was promoted to CEO a year later. He has thrived for almost four times longer than the average chief executive. I believe that his enduring success is the result of understanding the true nature of the responsibility that he accepted.
Overhead Door is special. It is more than a highly recognized brand or a profitable business. It is more than great products that provide access and security to our homes and businesses. It has provided stability and prosperity to thousands of families for almost a hundred years. It is special because it has been anointed by the Father to provide blessings for his children.
Dennis has embraced his role as the chief caretaker of that blessing.
The world has changed during his time here. 9/11. Social media. Smartphones. Working remotely. Going green. Brick and mortar moved online. The Great Recession.
Other famous companies have lost their way and failed during his tenure. Overhead Door continues to shine brightly, flowing hope and peace into a troubled world.
If I have witnessed the secret to Dennis’s success, it is his intense commitment to a simple concept:
Keep the main things the main things.
Copies of our core values are scattered around our office buildings nationwide. To most people, they are nice thoughts. For Dennis, they have been his north star. He understands that leaders exist for a greater reason than guaranteeing quarterly results. He understands that leaders make decisions that define our collective character.
I have also known Dennis’s successor, Kelly Terry, for many years. I have watched him defend forgotten people when he thought no one was watching. I am proud to serve with him. True to form, Dennis is handing guardianship to someone sworn to uphold the same values.
I have interviewed many people who were looking for jobs at ODC. One of the questions I am most frequently asked is:
“In a world where people change jobs so frequently, why have you stayed here?”
My answer is always the same. “Every day, I wake up and come to work. I try to create a better life for people. I am able to focus on doing my best because I am never distracted by scandals or being embarrassed by the actions our company has taken. I choose this job because I believe in our leaders. I have watched them survive both storms and the everyday details without compromising their integrity. I am here because they lead where I hope the world will go.”
Overhead Door is built on ideals that are worth safeguarding, and embracing those ideals requires a long-term commitment to serving the needs of others. For 18 years, Dennis has put us first.
Dennis is retiring with a long list of victories. He has served well and is now shifting his focus to his wife, children, and grandchildren. Like so many others, they will continue to be blessed through him.
Our careers are short and our legacies are brief. The most we can achieve during our time here is to do our level best and to inspire the next generation to do the same.
Thank you, Dennis, for your faithful service. Thank you for your leaving us a company that is worth defending. Thank you for showing us how to do it well.
May God bless you and keep you as love and prosperity continue to grow in your footprints.
In an age when tradition is falling out of fashion, I am learning to embrace my favorite parts of yesterday and carry their significance into tomorrow. I have a family tradition that is on my list of favorites. It started as unintentionally as a dropped acorn, but over the years it has grown along with our commitment to our family, friends, and community.
Years ago, right after my family moved to Dallas, we heard that Operation Care hosted a Christmas party for the homeless in downtown Dallas. Kim and I decided to take our seven- and ten-year-old children. It sounded like a great chance to serve the poor around the holidays and expose the kids to a part of society they would never see in the suburbs north of Dallas.
It was a wonderful event, hosted in a huge convention center. Thousands of homeless people either walked there or took special, event buses from across the metroplex. They received “gifts” of toiletry bags, blankets, shoes, haircuts, and coats. Lunch followed. Throughout the day, people prayed with them and focused on the true importance of Christmas. It was beautiful and unlike anything I had ever seen.
Halfway through our serving time my daughter, Erin, and I went to the foot washing area. The job was straightforward. We would introduce ourselves to the guests, then remove their socks and shoes, clean their feet with wet wipes and rub them with powder. Next, we fit them with new socks and shoes. It was humbling. I had never seen sights like those hiding underneath the soiled socks and shoes. My eyes were opened and my heart cried out.
The next year we went again, but the kids brought friends with them. We migrated to the foot-washing and shoe area because it offered a controlled environment to watch over our young ones. Since we were now “regulars”, we bought t-shirts and acted like veterans.
My favorite part was the small-talk with the guests of our party. We would chat about their favorite part of the holidays, what they thought about the party and other things friends share. We were so similar in spirit but so different in circumstance. Our worlds grew smaller as we connected.
On year three, we brought half a dozen pairs of work boots from WalMart to take with us. Living outside in the cold of winter is harsh, and work boots were the most common request due to their warmth and dryness. Operation Care had become a tradition larger than our family, so we began to take our family and the friends with us to celebrate afterward with the lunch of the kids’ choice. Steak n Shake – party of six, please.
As the years passed, we began setting aside more money and bringing more work boots with us. The handful of pairs became lawn-sized trash bags that were nearly too heavy to carry. Everyone in the family invited more friends. Kim’s father moved in with us and joined us in our biggest party of the year.
Others noticed the joyful faces when the work boots were received and asked about donating to increase our gift. People who were originally uncomfortable washing the feet of the poor became emboldened. The spirit of Christmas moved through us.
More than a decade has passed since our first trip to the convention center for a Christmas party honoring forgotten people. Our family car has turned into a caravan, donations now flow through a nonprofit, we are approaching 1,000 pairs of work boots given to the homeless and impoverished of our city, other groups follow our example in the “gifts” they bring with them, and our serving team is regularly featured in the event’s promotional materials.
There are years I have wanted to break tradition, to do something else with that day. Sometimes, I’ve been tempted to channel my donations to a cause that had captured my attention at the moment.
So far, we have stayed the course. We’ve been blessed that God has given us gentle reminders of the impact emerging from our perseverance.
My kids are now grown and live in other cities which makes their participation questionable. However, a few weeks ago, I was blessed to see one of them stop to give a restaurant take-home bag to a homeless person we passed on the street. Later, I saw the other chat with someone who was losing everything due to their own actions responding with love and acceptance.
The acorns planted years earlier are growing into mighty oaks.
We will go to the party again in a few days. The fruit of our labor may have taken years to grow but I am thankful that we chose to stay where we were planted. Our roots have grown deep here.
I love the people of my city and can’t wait to see their smiling faces again.
Merry Christmas.
Note: A special thank you to Gary Daniels, who faithfully photographs the event and took most of these pictures. We are blessed to know you. Also to Bill Krahulik, whose enduring leadership has encouraged us to stay the course.
If you are interested in serving at Operation Care, visit
https://operationcareinternational.org/
One of the reasons the Bible is so captivating is because it was written by people who were living out the stories they wrote. It was written by shepherds, tent makers, kings, and cupbearers. They simply told their stories.
Stories are most powerful when the author’s genuine emotions flow out of the words. If you read my last post on the 23rd Psalm, you can feel David’s struggle in the lyrics of that beautiful song. The words are inspired by the spirit but spoken from the author’s heart.
Our stories may be different than David’s. He struggled with treachery, violence, and hunger. My circumstances are much safer and tend to involve a need for belonging and love. Psalms are born out of finding freedom, so as believers, we all have a song inside us.
Easy to say, but does it work? I decided to put myself to the test.
Would the 23rd Psalm be worthwhile if I had written it?
Not knowing how to start, I decided to follow David’s format. I broke it into four elements. Place of peace, emotional struggle, God’s response and vision of hope.
I am an engineer and love to follow a formula. That may not make for great literature but its a starting point.
My place of peace
When I am under stress, my dreams drift back to my childhood home in Nashville. I find myself once again standing in the large room that formed the kitchen and dining areas or with sunshine on my shoulders walking out in the yard. I was at peace then because my family loved and accepted me. I didn’t worry and with the faith fo a child, I trusted that all my needs would be met.
My emotional struggle
I struggle with feelings that nobody cares about me because I am not worth their attention. Even when people embrace me, I fear that tomorrow will bring loneliness again.
God’s response
God marks me as his own. When I need to be reminded that I am worthy, he gives me glimpses of how he sees me. By my faith and his design, people can see him in me.
My vision of hope
I want to be used by God and leave a legacy everywhere I go.
It is difficult to admit my weakness but more amazing that God loves me anyway. When I mix David’s elements with my images, my song pours out the same way that his must have.
The Trinity has adopted me into their family, I found belonging. Pictures of us together surround me as we relax and share stories about our day. They teach me the family business and bring peace to my soul. Dark forces swirl, shining lights on my failures, hissing that I am nobody, but I know who I am. The spirit rests on me, my brother stands at my side, and my Father tells the world that he is pleased with me. He grants me the authority of his name. Our family resemblance cannot be denied and my heart overflows.
Life and love forever mark my footprints as I walk through my Father’s kingdom.
My Conclusion
Certainly, my psalm is no replacement for the 23rd Psalm. It doesn’t even look similar. That’s OK. My place of peace, struggles, and hopes are as unique as my fingerprint.
I found joy in speaking my fears out loud and praising God for lifting me above them.
I had never considered several of the images that came out. The concept of a “family resemblance” was new for me, but is encouraging.
I don’t expect everyone to love it, but I am as excited to show my Father as a child racing into the room with a crayon drawing for the refrigerator. And that pleases him.
The Bible isn’t a storybook. It is alive and intended to guide us. Psalms are awesome, but maybe they are intended as a guide to help us write our own.
When you are sad, or joyful, amazed or scared, try writing it down. Maybe a phrase or two will turn into something longer. Maybe the spirit will guide your words. You won’t know until you try.
Life is full of ups and downs. Most of these are the minor fluctuations that keep us on our toes. But occasionally a profound tragedy or triumph stops us in our tracks and causes us to reevaluate our lives.
When circumstances seem impossible, the 23rd Psalm calls out to us. It is one of the Bible’s most encouraging passages. “The Lord is my shepherd…” has comforted people for three thousand years.
It is inspired and beautiful, but if that is all you know, get ready for the rest of the story.
King David wrote this psalm. He was born the youngest of eight sons and raised in the small village of Bethlehem. As the youngest, he inherited the unenviable task
of caring for his father’s flock of sheep. He spent many hours and days alone with the animals. Roaming the countryside, leading them to sources of food and water, he made sure they were protected from nature’s threats.
It was quiet, peaceful work, but especially boring for an energetic child. I suspect he let his thoughts find freedom by singing as he played his small harp while the sheep rested in the sun.
He was a musical prodigy, and his gift was noticed by the king’s attendants. He was invited to the castle to play for the king. Instead of sheep, he was suddenly playing for royalty.
His musician’s life quickly transformed into that of a soldier. On a trip to visit his brothers in their battle camp, he volunteered to fight a death match with a man who was not just a giant, but also the champion of his nation’s army. That victory catapulted him into the spotlight – where his military and leadership genius were on full display. He rose quickly to general and the people of Israel would sing about the tens of thousands of enemies he had killed.
David’s success as a soldier transitioned smoothly into politics when Israel was in need of a new king. Under his rule, the kingdom expanded, and prosperity grew. He was fair to his subjects, even to the point that God called him a man after his own heart.
These successes came at a high cost. He spent years at a time away from home, living in harsh conditions with constant threats to his life. He was betrayed by those closest to him, and constant wars marked his lifetime.
His intense focus on kingship distracted him from his duties as a husband and father. His relationships with both his wives and sons were strained.
His sons had all the curses of children born into wealth and privilege without discipline. None of them possessed his strong character and heart for God. David was unable to control them. His son Absalom went so far as to murder his own brother and later stage a bloody coup to seize control of the kingdom from his father. David barely escaped the castle with his life and retreated into the wilderness.
In the wilderness, he faced hunger, thirst and constant danger as his life hung by a thread. He was forced to choose between relinquishing a divinely anointed crown to an unlawful usurper or to raise an army to battle his own son.
As he agonized with his decision, he had no one to share it with. The loyal people who had fled with him from the castle had risked their own lives as well as that of their families. Because they were plagued with their own concerns, David would not have burdened them with his.
Isolated and alone in his contemplation, his heart must have longed for the peaceful days of his childhood, spent roaming green, grassy fields and wading in cool creeks. How simple it must have seemed when sheep were his only responsibility.
In these dark times, he did not blame God for his struggles. Instead, through faith, he knew he would survive. Hope still filled his heart, and he could see visions of tomorrow that strengthened him.
With no one to talk to and few ways to sort out his jumbled emotions, he began to write.
If you’ve read these words during turbulent times, you have felt the pain they were born from. You have also felt the comfort of a loving Father. In about one hundred words, this passage captures the very essence of our collective hope.
If you feel overwhelmed, do what David did. Start with speaking who God is and what he has done for you. Then describe your situation and speak victory and hope into it.
The 23rd Psalm is David’s story. And now you know the rest of the story.
Sources:
1 The Story Behind The Psalms by Jack Hyles http://www.fbbc.com/messages/hyles_psalms.htm
