“He who walks with the wise grows wise . . .”  – Proverbs 13:20

Soon after our son, Marc, arrived on the college campus of his dreams to begin his freshman year he suddenly realized that he was alone and far from home.  The institution in which he had labored so hard to be accepted began to feel like a place of isolation.  Then he met Dr. Preslar, his faculty advisor.  Over the weeks and months that followed Dr. Preslar became not only Marc’s teacher and counselor, but also his friend.  Throughout his freshman year Dr. Preslar would challenge his intellect during the week, then they would hang out together over the weekends.  For all its libraries, labs, and academic credentials the university as an institution could not provide our son what Dr. Preslar did – an interpersonal relationship with someone wise and trustworthy.

We live in a world of mass media.  Audiences numbering in the millions can be reached in a matter of seconds through television and social media.  People gather by the thousands in sports arenas and concert halls.  More fertile ground has never before existed for opportunities to mass market and mass communicate.  And it seems as if these massive information delivery systems have taken us from being a personal society to an institutional one comprised of giant corporations, big governments, large schools and universities, even mega-churches and multi-billion-dollar charitable organizations.  Thus, there appears to be a great myth in our world today that the greatest influences on people’s lives are big institutions and mass media.

Yes, it is true we live in a world of mass media and large, powerful institutions, but reality is that our most profound influence still comes through a relationship with another human being – parent to child, teacher to student, professional to client, friend to friend, someone we know and trust.  Today Marc remains one of his alma mater’s most enthusiastic alums.  That would not be so, however, were it not for the scores of relationships he developed during his time there, beginning with Dr. Preslar.

Who influences your life?  Is it an institution or the media?  Or is it someone close to you, a person with whom you have a relationship, who you know and trust?  The ancient Proverb is as true today as it was then, “He who walks with the wise grows wise.”

“Now go out and encourage your men.”  2 Samuel 19:7 

“You’re somebody!”  I heard those encouraging words at the same time two strong hands grasped my shoulders and gently lifted me out of the dirt where I lay face down sobbing.  I was fourteen years old and had lost a race in a track meet by a hair, a race I wanted desperately to win.  Broken hearted I fell to the ground in tears.  But one of my dad’s friends was on it.  He had witnessed my determination, valiant effort, and heart-breaking defeat, rushing to my rescue with just the right words that would eventually lift my spirits and restore my confidence, and a message I’ve never forgotten.  “You’re somebody.”

Just a few weeks prior, in a different athletic endeavor, we were competing in a junior high school basketball tournament in a tiny country school gymnasium (picture the movie “Hoosiers” except smaller).  The opposing team consisted of players even younger and smaller than us, from a school half the size of our own.  But they had a reputation, at least according to our coach, of being quick, crafty, and disciplined, besides having the home court advantage.  That’s what he kept reminding us over and over and over. These guys will run you off the court, he warned again and again.  And sure enough, that’s exactly what happened.  At the end of the game Coach was furious with us for the way we played, allowing those little sixth and seventh graders to run us off the court.  Truth be known, we were defeated before we ever set foot on the gym floor, due in part to his failure to encourage.  (In all fairness to the coach, he was young and inexperienced, his first coaching job.  And I suspect he did not realize how powerfully his negative message was impacting the team’s confidence.  Yet, notwithstanding that experience, the students and athletes in our school loved and respected the coach.  I’m sure it was a learning experience for him.  Looking back, it certainly was for me.)

The story in 2 Samuel occurred following the death of King David’s son Absalom.  So grieved was David that he recklessly failed to acknowledge his army’s valiant victory in battle.  It was his general, Joab, who reminded the king what he must do.  “Now go out and encourage your men.  I swear by the Lord that if you don’t go out, not a man will be left with you after nightfall.”  As all wise leaders know, discouragement deflates confidence, leading to failure and defeat.  But encouragement builds confidence, leading to success and victory.  My dad’s friend knew that, and the coach I suspect learned it.

“He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.”  Proverbs 28:13 

Do you ever have to eat crow?  I find it terribly distasteful and hard to swallow, don’t you?  And who ever thought up that phrase in the first place as a euphemism for painfully admitting a mistake, guilt, or being wrong about something?  Whatever, I seem to have had a steady diet of it most of my life.

It is human nature, I suppose, to want to hide our mistakes and wrongdoings.  But if we don’t acknowledge them, what have we learned; for what good is a mistake if it doesn’t teach us something?  And in order to learn from an error we first need to admit it — confess – then analyze it and make adjustments so as not to repeat the same mistake.

So, what I’ve learned through the years after eating many platters-full of crow is that it is sort like brussels sprouts or spinach when we’re kids.  Even though it tastes awful, our mothers insisted we eat it because it’s good for us, makes us grow big and strong.  Indeed, confession is good for us too, building bigger character and stronger relationships.  Many years ago, I made a denigrating remark – in public no less – about one of my most dedicated staff members, not on purpose, just came out the wrong way.  Being in a superior position I could have ignored it, but instead the next day I called the person aside, admitted my error, and apologized profusely.  Mercifully the person accepted my apology.  But what surprised me more was the respect I received, from that individual as well as others, for my admission of guilt – for eating crow – creating a level of trust with that person and my whole team like I could never have imagined.

As an adult I’ve grown rather fond of brussels sprouts and spinach, besides appreciating their contributions to my good health.  Not so much so with crow, which I still find terribly distasteful and hard to swallow.  But despite its awful flavor I still manage to choke some down almost every day, which I credit as a contributing factor toward my almost forty-seven years of happy, healthy marriage.  It is not the soul ingredient for our long successful union, of course, but it is certainly part of the recipe – that each of us partakes of a daily serving of crow.  For the old Proverb is true: “He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.”

“Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches . . .”  – Jeremiah 9:23 

You may recall the amazing story which gained a great deal of publicity several years ago, about Oceola McCarty (1908-1999), a local washerwoman in Hattiesburg, Mississippi who became The University of Southern Mississippi’s most famous benefactor.  “She drew global attention,” according to Wikipedia, “after it was announced in July 1995 that she had established a trust which at her death, a portion of her life’s savings would be left to the university to provide scholarships for deserving students in need of financial assistance.  The amount was estimated at $150,000, a surprising amount given her low-paid occupation.”  In 1998 Oceola, who only had a sixth-grade education, received an honorary degree from USM, along with scores of other awards and honors, all in recognition of her humble and unselfish spirit.

You may also recall another story which gained a great deal of publicity thousands of years ago, about King Solomon, who in his day was considered the wisest, richest and most powerful person on earth.  What great potential he had, given such wisdom, wealth and power.  Yet, as we know, Solomon spent much of his life squandering these great gifts on sensual living, and abusing his leadership power by overworking and excessively taxing his people.  Only in his later years did he recognize the error of his ways as expressed in an essay known as the Book of Ecclesiastes.  “All of it is meaningless,” he confessed about the way he had squandered his life, “a chasing after the wind.”  In some ways I suspect Solomon wished he had lived his life the way Oceola had lived hers.

Then there was the man I once had the privilege of working with, a man gifted with tremendous intellect like Solomon, earning multiple advanced and professional degrees, and becoming a distinguished member of his profession.  Except, unlike Solomon, he also possesses that same humble and unselfish spirit as Oceola, claiming no credit for his many accomplishments, crediting them instead as gifts from God.  And wasn’t that the Lord’s message to Jeremiah?  “Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts boast about this:  that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight.”

“I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.” 

– Psalm 40:1 

There’s an old joke about a man praying to God.  “God?” he asked.  “Yes?” the Lord replied.  “Can I ask a question?”  “Of course, go right ahead,” God said.  “God, what is a million years to you?” the man asked.  “Why, a million years to me is only a second,” God answered.  “Hmm,” the man wondered.  Then he asked, “God, what is a million dollars worth to you?”  To which God answered, “A million dollars to me is as a penny.”  The man thought for a moment.  “God,” he asked, “can I have a penny?”  “Sure!” God replied.  “Just a second.”

I’ve never had a big issue with God’s willingness to hear my pleas, nor his assurance to deliver on his promises.  My problem has always been trusting his timing.  In fact, the biggest blunders I’ve made in my life have almost all been the result of impatience.  Instead of waiting patiently for the Lord, I tend to jump the gun and take matters into my own hands, which usually turns out to be a disaster, like the time I became overly anxious for a promotion in my career and jumped the gun, taking another position that instead of advancing my career almost wrecked it.

Waiting patiently for the Lord, however, does not mean putting our lives in neutral and wandering aimlessly wishing something would happen.  No, it is about knowing something will happen, just not the exact timing, and in the meantime to continue to prepare ourselves.

A bewildered young man once entered the seating area of a train station where he noticed a large sign on the wall.  “WAITING ROOM – NO LOITERING,” it said.  Isn’t that a contradiction, he thought?  Except the waiting room is for those who have a ticket, know where they’re going, and expect the train to eventually show up; whereas loiterers have no ticket, no destination, wandering aimlessly with no expectation.  The young man had shown up prepared, with a fully-paid ticket to a specific destination, expecting that the train would eventually show up and take him there.

Older and wiser now – and after many blunders – the words of the Psalmist are slowly starting to sink in, “I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.”