Not So Important To Make Others Feel Important

Queen Victoria once shared her impressions of her two most famous prime ministers.  Of William Gladstone, she said, "When I am with him, I feel I am with one of the most important leaders in the world."

On the other hand, she confessed that when she was with Disraeli, he made her feel "as if I am one of the most important leaders of the world."

- Haddon Robinson, "On Target," Focal Point, quoting from David Smith, The Friendless American Male

The Ancient Art Of Conversation

In 1997, the Washington Capitals were hot, skating their way into the Stanley Cup finals. By the fall of 1999, they had slipped to one of the worst records in the NHL. Coach Ron Wilson decided drastic measures were necessary and quickly changed their strategy. Yet injuries abounded, and the losses mounted. The team was skating on thin ice and couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

Just before Christmas, the team embarked on a late-night, seven-hour flight from Vancouver and did what they typically do on a flight of that duration: they popped in a video to pass the time. Then the VCR froze.

As the plane winged its way through the evening sky, one by one the players started talking with each other. They talked strategy. Obstacles. Key plays. Out of necessity, they rediscovered the ancient art of conversation. By the time the plane touched down, the Capitals had picked apart their game and knew what needed to be done.

In the weeks that followed, they became virtually unstoppable, going on an eleven-game winning streak. Team goaltender Olaf Kolzig reflected, “Maybe it was fate the VCR didn’t work. It gave us a chance to just roam about the plane and talk with guys. It was a good way to clear the air.” Indeed. They went 12 – 2 – 3 after the busted VCR incident.

 — Bob De Moss, Plugged In 
radio broadcast (April 4, 2001)

Something's Got To Give

Many of you may recall the popular song "Cat's in the Cradle" sung by Harry Chapin. The words always bring a tear to my eye because I am a father, and over the years I have had to travel so much. The song unfolds as follows:

My child arrived just the other day; He came to the world in the usual way, But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay, He learned to walk while I was away.

And he was talkin' & before I knew it and as he grew, He'd say, "I'm gonna be like you, Dad. You know I'm gonna be like you." And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon.

"When you comin' home, Dad?" "I don't know when, but we'll get together then; You know we'll have a good time then."

My son turned ten just the other day. He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on, let's play. Can you teach me to throw?" I said, "No, not today, I got a lot to do."

He said, "That's okay." And he walked away but his smile never dimmed. It said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah, You know I'm gonna be like him…."

And he came from college just the other day; So much like a man I just had to say,"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?" He shook his head and he said with a smile,"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys. See you later, can I have them please?"

I've long since retired, my son's moved away. I called him up just the other day. I said, "I'd like to see you, if you don't mind. "He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time. You see, my new job's a hassle, and the kids have the flu, But it's sure nice talkin' to you, Dad, It's been nice talkin' to you."

And as I hung up the phone, It occurred to me, He'd grown up just like me. My boy was just like me.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon,"When you comin' home, Son?""I don't know when, but we'll get together then, Dad. We're gonna have a good time then."

The melodrama of this song was played out in Chapin's own life almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I have been told that his wife, who wrote the words of the song, asked him one day when he was going to slow down the torrid pace of his life and give some time to their children. His answer was, "At the end of this busy summer, I'll take some time to be with them." That summer, ironically and tragically, Harry Chapin was killed in a car accident.

It is not possible to read that postscript of Chapin's death and miss the larger point; that something was known, believed, and even "preached," but never lived. When we chase manmade crowns and sacrifice the treasured relationships for which God has made us, life loses its meaning.

- quoted from Ravi Zacharias, Can Man Live Without God, (Word, Dallas: 1994), pp. 108-109