“But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace.” Psalm 37:11 

Several feet removed from the large prominent family cemetery plot where my parents and grandparents are buried lies a small obscure grave marker with grass creeping up around its edges so that it is hardly visible. Inscribed on the tiny stone is the name of my great aunt May Wilson, my grandfather’s sister who was known to us nephews and nieces simply as Auntie. The fact that her final resting place is positioned sort of “off to the side” is no great surprise as it is symbolic of the way she lived her life.

Auntie was no stranger to us growing up, always present at family gatherings, yet quiet and unassuming, usually positioning herself in a solitary place sort of “off to the side” from everyone else, rarely having much to say. Meek though she was, however, Auntie’s life was anything but unaccomplished. She was in fact well educated, and for some fifty years taught school, eventually rising to the level of school principle.

Meek, unfortunately, is not a word that plays well in our culture today, maybe because it suffers the misfortune of rhyming with weak, causing us to mistakenly believe the two words to be synonymous. Not so. In fact, to be meek, which is defined as having patience, humility and forbearance, requires tremendous strength and courage. But we don’t recognize it that way because we tend to worship such attributes as boldness, success, and visibility – preferring winning athletes and teams, bestselling books, box office smashes, and high-profile politicians and entertainers over meekness.

Some people fly high in life – prominent, visible, and notable for their persona – while others fly beneath the radar, barely visible, their accomplishments and persona virtually unnoticed. Auntie was like that. I know nothing about the people she may have touched and influenced during her lifetime. Perhaps even those she touched and influenced didn’t realize it either, that it had come from her quiet, humble demeaner.

It has been said that “the person who does good for God’s glory seeks neither praise nor reward but is sure of both in the end.” “But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace,” the Psalmist says. Or as Jesus rephrased it, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” I think Auntie must have known that.

“He is not here; he has risen!” – Luke 24:6 

Great lessons can sometimes come from total strangers. We had one of those experiences one evening while dining at a neighborhood restaurant. Seated at a nearby table was a young couple and their daughter who seemed to be having a perfectly delightful time visiting, laughing and enjoying their meal. Nothing was particularly unusual except for the fact that their little girl was severely disabled and confined to a specially designed wheelchair. It wasn’t the child’s disability that captured our attention, though, rather it was the obvious pleasure this family had simply being together. The couple, while showing affection toward their disabled child and assisting her occasionally, otherwise treated her as a normal person, engaging her in their conversations. Neither did they dote over her in any way. What was most obvious about them, though, was a total absence of self-pity in spite of their circumstance.

Marianne Williamson, author of the best-selling book A Return to Love once said, “Our only job is to be an example of a life that is working.” That’s exactly what we witnessed from that young family, “an example of a life that is working”.

Happiness, you see, has little to do with circumstance and everything to do choice. No one has a perfect life – no one! Every life is plagued with some sort of hurt, grief, disappointment, disability, illness, financial strain, and any number of other hardships. The difference between those who embrace happiness and those who embrace self-pity is in the way they choose to deal with life’s imperfections.

In his poem Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front, author, poet Wendell Berry offers these sage words, “So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it.” . . . . “Practice resurrection,” the poem concludes.

Sounds like Jesus, doesn’t it, the perfect example of a life that is working – a life that concludes not in self-pity, but with resurrection. For as the angel proclaimed, “He is not here; he is risen!” Alleluia!!

“I will confirm my covenant between me and you . . .” – Genesis 17:2 

Contracts are part of our lives. No one in this day-and-age can escape being party to a contract of some sort. If you have a roof your head, for example, whether a house or an apartment, rented or purchased, you no doubt signed a contract. And anyone in any kind of business is certainly familiar with the world of contracts. Even in professions such as my own, contracts between coach and client are common practice. Simply put, contracts are legal agreements that bind two or more parties to fulfill their part of the bargain.

Such documents, of course, would not be necessary if participating parties could be trusted to fulfill their promises. Unfortunately, though, humans from the beginning of time have had a history of failing to do so. There are exceptions, however, like Jerry – about whom I have written before – who for thirty years was my closest friend in my previous profession. He and I would talk daily during the work week sharing information and ideas. And although we were in the same business, we were in fact competitors – at least the companies we worked for were competitors, and bitter ones at that. Yet, through the years we partnered on hundreds of transactions that proved extremely lucrative for both our firms. But because these transactions demanded immediate decision-making, written contracts were not consummated until long after the fact, and then only to satisfy regulatory requirements for documentation. And not once in the course of thirty years was there ever a dispute, disagreement, or misunderstanding.

The key to success, you see, had little to do with a contract between two firms, and everything to do with the covenant between two long-time friends. The difference between the two according to writer, philosopher Os Guinness is that “a covenant is broader and a contract narrower, the one being emphatically moral and the other being purely legal.”

Indeed, God’s promise to Abraham was a covenant, not a contract. “I will confirm my covenant between me and you . . .,” He pledged. His was also a covenant with Moses and the Israelite people. Contracts are legal agreements devised for humans, but covenants include elements of the Divine. No one in this day-and-age can escape being party to a contract of some sort. What we need in our world today are more covenants.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.” – Isaiah 43:18 

The time finally came several years ago for Tee and her sister to move their Dad out of the old family homestead where he and their Mom had resided for some forty-six years – the place both daughters had called home for a good part of their childhood. Most adults at some point go through that experience of moving parents or grandparents out of their home. Such is a melancholy time for most of us as our minds are flooded with memories – good and bad – from the many archeological artifacts excavated from deep inside closets and attics. Not surprisingly, their experience was no different.

One thing did surprise me, however, and that was Tee’s reaction to all the buried treasures that were uncovered. While most did in fact conjure up fond memories of her childhood, it puzzled me to observe how few she chose to keep. There were a few exceptions such as the tiny hand-stitched doll dresses lovingly sewn by her great-aunt which found their way into a shadowbox where they are on permanent display in our home today. But as for the old photos, school yearbooks, pressed corsages from proms, and tattered costumes? Most went in the dumpster.

Why, I wondered, did she keep so few things? One explanation is that being a practical woman she realized most of it would just move from one dusty attic to another, leaving more for our own kids to dispose of in later years. On the other hand someone once said, “don’t cry when it’s over, smile because it happened”, which seems to reflect Tee’s philosophy about the past and perhaps better explains her lack of emotional attachment to most of those old keepsakes.

As good as life may have seemed in the past there is a certain attitude that says, “today is my best day and tomorrow will be even better.” It is an attitude that focuses on the present and the future rather than dwelling in the past. Don’t get me wrong, our home is filled with family heirlooms and treasures from the past, reminders of our loved ones and family history. The past is rich in the sweet memories it offers, the instructions on how to live our lives going forward – and hopefully it causes us to smile because it happened. As the prophet Isaiah urged the people, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.” Focus instead on today, make it your best day – and may tomorrow be even better.

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good . . .” – Genesis 50:20 

In his recent bestselling book Grateful American, actor Gary Sinise tells the story about being seated on an airplane next to a man by the name of John Vigiano, who happened to be a retired firefighter with FDNY. Gary noticed John was wearing a button bearing a picture of his two sons, one a highly decorated New York City police officer, and the other, in the footsteps of his father, an FDNY firefighter. John wore the button in honor of his two sons who had sacrificed their lives in the Twin Towers’ collapse on 9/11, while valiantly and selflessly saving others. After sharing this story with Gary, John said something truly remarkable. “I believe more good came out of September 11 than evil,” this from a father who had tragically lost both his beloved sons.

Over lunch recently with one of my special friends, he began to share with me details about his childhood. Now, my friend happens to be a highly educated and successful businessman with a beautiful family who he adores. He is also one of those people whose broad smile and warm heart spreads joy everywhere he goes. Without knowing his background, one would never imagine the extreme cruelty, abuse and abandonment he suffered as a child. At the end of his story, though, as horrific as it was, he looked at me and shared something truly remarkable. “But the past is the past,” he concluded. “What matters is what we do with our lives going forward.”

Then there is Joseph, whose story is told in the book of Genesis, cruelly treated by his jealous brothers who sold him into Egyptian slavery, after which he was imprisoned on false charges, where he remained for years, separated from his beloved father Jacob who assumed him to be dead. Finally, after being called upon to interpret Pharaoh’s dream he was promoted to Pharaoh’s right-hand administrator which enabled him to rescue his family from starvation during a severe seven-year famine.

Three people, three tragic stories. All could have — and had every right to – embrace bitterness. Instead, they chose otherwise, trusting God to overrule the evil acts they had suffered and to use them for good. Their responses were truly remarkable, which Joseph summed up this way. “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”