Two things unraveled the puzzle.

First, I went back to examine my emails and notes to see if I could see how they heard what I was trying to say.  Initially I was dumbfounded.  My emails were simple and to the point.  The first yellow flag appeared when I opened my draft.  It was a draft, only it was not mine, it was another that had come in at a similar time.  As I raced back and forth between the emails, it became clear.  Not one person in my group had seen what I had spent hours preparing.

Second, as I started fresh, the pick-up with the senior staff in the office was immediate.  “Our analysis should provide the answers Bill is looking for.”

“How could they know?  What had I done or said that had given them the insight?”

“Let’s work on the analysis more this afternoon before we share it.”

Since I had a full calendar it was easy to let go of the issue.  I still wondered what I would get.  Around five, I walked into the office.  “Show me what you have.”

The white board held a clear, logical, roadmap.  As they talked me through their approach, I could see that they had captured everything I had not said and more!  It was a big step in the right direction.  Who knew?

We thrashed through how to take it to a more refined state.  My confidence in their analysis grew with each idea.  They were focused and on target.  It was a model I had been searching for but could not quite see or find.  My darkness had been pointless.  They understood what I had forgotten.  Together they knew.

As I listened to one, I found myself admiring the storyteller.  There is a truism that says “anyone who claims to live in God’s light and hates a brother or sister is still in the dark.”  (1 John 2.9)  In this case, the storyteller was a champion for those that they had reasons to hate.  Betrayal, judgment, and deceit are grounds for judgment.  They had first had knowledge of how this played out in their relationships.  Yet, the story in the story was different.  I heard compassion, empathy, and a willingness to help.  This was someone that had not given up on others.  They cared enough to try and make a difference.

As the day dawns, I find myself getting ready to do battle.  In the main, I know I have the high ground.  Misrepresentation, falsehoods, and hysteria are familiar adversaries.  It is natural to eliminate the messenger with the message.  Even as I prepare, I find myself listening to the story.  Life is never about two choices.  There are always more.  Compassion can be part of today’s narrative.  A willingness to help could be part of the storyline.  There is an opportunity to make a difference.

As obvious as this approach might be, I would suggest it is a difficult path to take.  It means I will have to put aside my prejudice.  It demands that I live with the pain of yesterday to pursue the opportunity of tomorrow.  It calls me to look beyond myself.  If I go down this path, I will have to step outside of my traditional community to something larger.  A road less travelled.

It is old, and yet it is fresh.  I needed to hear this story!  I doubt the storyteller knew of my perspective.  Though we know each other, we have never discussed the story or my views on it.  He told the story for his own reasons at this particular place and time.  In the moment I heard it again, it felt as though it was the first time.  I could see what I had been blind to just moments before.  Everything around me took on a different perspective.

There is a natural paradox between old stories and new.  In my experience, they gently mix together, indistinguishable from each other when they touch your soul.  Often it is as if everything has changed.  One writer captured the moment; “On the other hand, perhaps it is new, freshly minted as it is in both Christ and you—the darkness on its way out and the True Light already blazing!”  (1 John 2.8)

As the afternoon began to fade, I wondered what I was going to do with the fresh revelations.  I could see a new window, an invitation to do something more with what I had been given.  I know I have had this treasured within me before.  I understand that I may have squandered previous gifts.  Whatever the past was, the future lies unwritten.  I have the freedom to write the chapter of my choosing.

It is an interesting perspective.  Old gifts become new.  Lost opportunities are reborn in the form of fresh invitations.  You and I have a chance to make a positive difference.  We can do something about the present.  It is a unique moment in time.  I know new ones will appear.  The question of the present is the one that matters now.

As I look back, I can now see what I could not see then.  My insights were good, but they were incomplete.  Everything in my solution was needed, yet there was space for more.  Nothing that I did was wrong.  It just could have been better, more complete.  More importantly, the tools may have been new but the concept behind them was not.  I had rediscovered an old path.

I am on the third life of this path.  The setting is different, a new company, different ways of describing the problem, yet it is a repeat of what others faced before.  The core elements of the answer lie in truths that have always been with us.  My words may sound different, however, using words centuries old, core of my message lies in the following statement.  “My dear friends, I’m not writing anything new here.  This is the oldest commandment in the book, and you’ve known it from day one.  It’s always been implicit in the Message you’ve heard.”  (1 John 2.7)

Communities are always stronger than individuals.  Being alone, with an idea or on a project, should never be the priority.  Bring others along with you.

Define success and the processes to get there.  Knowing what it looks and feels like is important.  Never lose your grip on what is important.

Communicate, about everything!  Talk about the goal.  Remind others of the key principles found in the process.  Recognize failures and learn from them.  Celebrate progress, of any and all kinds.

Along the way remember that the ideas may not be new but the feeling of hope is.  Hope refreshes and reminds us of what is possible.  We are called to be voices and carriers of hope.

There is an old Finnish story that relates a sauna experience to church.  A sauna ritual is steeped in tradition.  It is an institution with commandments.  There are customs that one takes care not to break.  When everything comes together, individuals are transported to places they have never been before.  When they do not, it is simply hot, boring, and stifling.

As we walked out into the cool evening, I decided to let the instructions come naturally as needed.  There was no point in assuming anything, simply put, he did not know.  If he broke tradition the responsibility rested with me.  The awareness that I was going to leave a mark on a blank canvas focused my thoughts.  What was important?  How much could he handle at each stage?

The early instructions were a mix of information and direction.  “You will want this bottle of cold water.  It can get hot.  You will tend to get dehydrated.  This will help.”

With a puzzled look, he accepted the bottle.

“Here is a small towel.  It helps protect you from the hot seat.  You may want a second one to wipe the sweat from your eyes.”

“I am used to heat.  I usually do not sweat.”

“No doubt.  I suggest taking this with you just in case.”

As I gently added some water with white birch oil to the rocks, I offered a suggested on how to protect his head from the heat that would soon wash over us.

“Wow, I am sweating.  This feels good.  I never knew.”

“I hear you.  Follow my lead,” as I reached for my water jug.

Even as I spoke, I could hear the whisper of a Wisdom Father in my ear; “Anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived.”  (1 John 2.6)

It is an amazing story to walk in.  There is no question what they stand for!  People are at the center of everything they do.  There is a transparent honesty that transcends politics and agendas.  You may not like what they are doing, but you know.  You may not always agree, but there is little doubt as to what will come next.

As I face the unknown of today and the future, I find myself looking back on their steps.  I have an incredible opportunity to walk in a way that takes the best from them and learn from their mistakes.  It is not always easy.  They did not always make perfect decisions, there was a constant learning process.  They did not always see clearly, hence I always found myself in a conversation with lots of questions.  They knew success came with a community.  The invitation to join them was always open.

I wish I knew then what I know now.  I was less that the ideal student.  My opinions often got in the way of hearing.  My confidence was an impediment to growing.  Yet, I think they understood I was growing in my own way.  In their own ways, they patiently pulled me along.

I hope I can do the same for those around me now.  As I think of the different ways they invited me into the opportunities, I am reminded of how each spoke of connecting actions with words.  One quoted a Biblical wisdom father.  His words reflected a recurring theme that continues.  “The one who keeps God’s word is the person in whom we see God’s mature love.  This is the only way to be sure we’re in God.”  (1 John 2.5)

Words are nice.  Rhetoric is fine.  What the world really needs is our actions.  We need to do the stuff.

In Southern California I know Mama Springer waits for me.  She is an old-school Harley, standing as if she is sitting.  Her weight is distributed low.  The chromed Screamin-Eagle engine looks mean, even when cold.  The fat rear tire protrudes as if to remind you that there are things in life made for comfort and function.

As I dress for my ride, I can hear those that gifted me with stories of other rides.  Their wisdom reminds me of the attitude I should take on every ride.  Awareness, care, and riding within one’s limits are just the beginning.  Their wisdom echoes with the initial rumble that emerges when the engine kicks to life.

With each ride a new chapter emerges.  I wish the details would always stay with me; the rush of the Santa Ana winds, the smell of a dry forest, and the sting of bugs tagging my face at sixty.  The way the senses are touched often blur into prior rides.  What I remember is the other riders on the road.  The kindness of other Harleys, the courtesy wave and the times that they stopped to see if I needed a helping hand when I was on the side of the road.  Another memory that stands tall is the way others ride.  Some are cruising, taking time to enjoy the ride.  Others are in a hurry, weaving in and out, carelessly inviting fate to touch their lives.

In context of how individuals ride, I hear the wisdom story of my riding teachers.  For those on the extreme, it is clear that they have not heard the stories.  If they have, then the indictment stands; “If someone claims, ‘I know him well!’ but doesn’t keep his commandments, he’s obviously a liar.  His life doesn’t match his words.”  (1 John 2.4)

In riding there is a proof statement; it is time to ride.

I grew up thinking that there was a problem if someone needed to connect the dots. Whatever instructions were given, obviously they were clear and concise.  When I did not understand the message, it was my problem!  Somebody was less than smart.

Time, experience, and multiple confusing moments challenged my belief.  As clear and concise as my teachers and parents were, I did not always understand.  Sometimes it was due to my response.  On other occasions it was just as likely to be them or the subject.

I look back and forward, recognizing that connecting the dots is always a good thing.  The process of bringing ideas to the table, sharing them, and helping another person understand, does not mean that they will accept the premise.  However, it sets the stage for the opportunity.  Listening to the questions with the intent to learn, open up the possibility for more.  Everything about the dialogue is potentially helpful to both parties.

Experience suggests that the process never ends there.  One may believe one has received.  One may think that s/he has communicated clearly.  Even with both in place, the affirmation of sender and receiver lies in what follows – actions.

Too often I find myself stopping with key principles and a vision statement.  Everyone should understand what measures tell the story.  It is only fair.  Divinity reminds us that there is a way to verify our understanding.  “Here’s how we can be sure that we know God in the right way: Keep his commandments.”  (1 John 2.3)  It sounds problematic, however compassion, empathy, and love can be seen and experienced.

Every day dawns with uncertainty and opportunity.  Life will reach out to teach and guide.  That is the first part of the process.  If we want to measure know if we have learned the lesson, we can listen to our response that is told in the story that follows.  We will not always understand.  We will not get it perfect.  We can learn and grow.  You and I have a daily window where we can make a difference.

In recent days, I have met several new communities.  Some are quite new.  They enthusiasm and idealism are refreshing!  They do not know what is ahead.  The bruising, drama, and trauma that naturally comes with time has yet to hit them.  Yet, even in the differences they are far more similar to other communities than they are different.

A common thread that I rediscovered with each is the desire to be exclusive and special.  Communities operate with a set of values and priorities.  One can see and experience them though the actions of the people inside.  Sometimes the values are unspoken, yet the outsider has firsthand knowledge.  On other occasions, it is a trait that leaders wish was not there, yet it continues as a self-defining ticket to enter.

If there was any single trait that I could erase it would be one of exclusiveness based on perceptions.  I think that you differently than me, I must exclude you.  Your skin is a different color, so I exclude you.  Your accent is different from mine, so you cannot be a member.

Imagine a community defined by compassion, love, and teamwork.  Have those values and you are in!  No other differences count.  I am not the first to see this dream.  Others have seen it, a few wrote about it. “When he served as a sacrifice for our sins, he solved the sin problem for good—not only ours, but the whole world’s.”  (1 John 2.2)  I love being part of this community.

As I gathered my facts and logic, I caught myself looking at the hearts and minds of the individuals sitting around the table.  I like this community!  It is full of interesting people.  Their views include vistas I cannot see or even imagine.  There is a wonderful mix of potential represented.

What was/is the purpose of being critical?  Did I think they would see my comments as helpful?  Would my words be used in any positive way?

The questions morphed into a simple one.  Did I want this group to win or lose?

Oddly enough, I do not always see God as wanting me to win.  Each time I find myself in this space, I am reminded that God says I am priceless.  Why would God waste something that is priceless?  One writer reminds me of the obvious that I keep forgetting; “I write this, dear children, to guide you out of sin.  But if anyone does sin, we have a Priest-Friend in the presence of the Father: Jesus Christ, righteous Jesus.”  (1 John 2.1)  God is on our side.

I am on my community side.  This calls me to be part of a solution.  In every action I should be trying to lighten the load, not increase it.  I should attempt to help, not hinder.  I can be a voice of hope, not despair.

It is an invitation into more.  I can ask for help while offering to share their load.  I can make a difference in their lives while inviting them into mine.  We are in this together.