The Four Gifts

A Father's Leadership Legacy

(Excerpt)
What makes a good leader?

The old man sat back patiently against the wooden chair. He learned his elbow on one side and held his bearded chin in his hand as he listened. Sitting across the table was his grown son who had been rambling on with rationalizations why he should receive his inheritance early.

“Father, you can trust me!” the son said. Both of them heard a snort from his older brother who stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The younger son waited a moment, shifted his weight, and then sat forward. Looking intently into his father’s eyes, he lowered his voice and said, “You know I have listened to everything you ever taught me from the time I was young. I’m prepared to make my fortune. Father . . . I swear by our forefathers that I won’t let you down.”

The old man was still quiet. After a few seconds he let out a long sigh, broke into a warm smile, pushed himself from the table, and rose from his chair. The son’s face brightened. “My son, my son . . .” the old man said smiling and slightly shaking his head. He came over and placed his hands on the young man’s shoulders. “Yes . . . you may have your inheritance.” Beaming, the younger son lifted his head and shot a victorious glance over to the doorway, but his older brother was no longer there.

We know the rest of the story of the prodigal son. It was Henri Nouwen’s writings that first encouraged me to take my focus off the younger son and take a look at the other characters in the timeless tale of love and leadership. In his book, The Return of the Prodigal[i], Nouwen invites us to consider that at times we are all the younger son, anxious to have our way, going off with the best of intentions, but ultimately ending up in life’s pig sties. At other times we are the jealous older brother who bitterly resents when someone else gets what we wanted, failing to enjoy another’s good fortune and abundant blessings. But when it comes to leadership skills, it’s the loving father in the story who can show us the wisest, simplest steps.

Leadership books and seminars abound, but there seems to be nothing like the wisdom that can be found in ancient stories, especially scripture. In the story of the Prodigal Son I found that the father embraced four practical principles of leadership that everyone can follow, but because they are rooted in spiritual virtues of faith, hope and love, they are the four spiritual laws of leadership. They are also the four ways my own father taught me to be a good leader, and when he died just a few weeks ago I began to reflect that his legacy of leadership could only be called a gift. To implement these four principles in my relationships with others is passing on the same gifts to them, the same Four Gifts my father gave to me.

How I became a leader

I was enlisted into a leadership role at an early age. When I was four years old Mom asked me to take care of my baby sister, Barb, while my mother nursed the newborn. I loved being boss and when Barb told me she was hungry, I promptly took my baby sister’s hand and led her into the kitchen. “Here, sit down,” I told her. I opened the cupboard door, stepped up on the shelf, and then onto the kitchen counter. I reached into the top cupboard, got the Ovaltine, and crawled back down. Since I loved Ovaltine, and I loved my little sister, Barb, I figured knew exactly what would make her happy. After grabbing the milk out of the fridge, I poured a glass, stirred in the chocolate crystals, and handed it to Barb. “Here, drink this.” I didn’t waste words. I was in charge. While Barb drank, I decided to take a huge scoop of dry, crunchy Ovaltine and shove it in my own mouth—my reward for a job well done. For years after that, as my mother continued to deliver her eight babies and one adopted child, I was always in junior-mom position where I began to learn basic leadership techniques.

My first formal leadership training was at Camp Pendola. When I was in high school my girlfriend Gail and I signed up to be summer counselors during the girls’ session at the camp in the Sierra Nevada in Northern California. We were to be put in charge of tents full of eight-year-olds, the youngest of the groups, but we first had to go through a week of leadership training. A newly ordained Catholic priest, Father Kidder, had been assigned to mold the counselors into certified, responsible, hardy outdoor leaders. I knew when he walked into a room full of teen aged girls with curlers in our hair, our mothers’ Winston cigarettes hidden in our back pockets, and Seventeen magazines stashed in our bedrolls, he would have his hands full. We made it through the week, blisters and all, and became the best counselors the camp had ever seen. Kidder (we called him behind his back) taught us to listen to the kids, lead them lovingly, and let go of any fears we might have because he would be there to help us. Despite his young age, Father Kidder was skilled at listening, leading, loving, and letting go, and he motivated us to do the same for our kids. He was for many years, and still is, deeply loved by generations of campers.

Camp counselor doesn’t count as a real job, though, does it? I entered the official workforce just out of high school at Woolworth’s in Palm Springs, California, where I had to wear a pale green smock with pockets so big I could keep my lunch in them and a name tag that identified me as cashier. I learned to feed tropical fish in the fish tanks, how to stay late and take inventory, and to pretend not to be excited when movie stars like Liberace, Lucille Ball, or Steve McQueen came into the store. My first boss had a fat face, red moustache, and high-water pants and he put the fear of God into me about punching my time card. “No timecard, no paycheck,” was his remark when I’d rush in to beat the clock each day. I desperately wanted to learn more than counting change and taking inventory so I could get a raise on my $1.50 per hour wage, but management wouldn’t let me. I had energy and drive that could have helped the company but my boss didn’t really care. I guess no one motivated or rewarded him, so he didn’t know how to do the same for me. He was the boss, but he wasn’t a leader.

Over the next decade I was a secretary, a computer operator, a hotel bookkeeper, and controller of a chain of health food stores in Southern California—a time-clock punching, 15-minute break- taking employee who left at five o’clock and actually enjoyed weekends. Some of my employers were fabulous leaders who inspired me, and some were the worst, like the one who fired me. He was so abusive that I stood up to his face and told him in between sobs in front of the whole office pool what I thought of him. I have made sure to this day never to be a “leader” like him.

For nearly thirty years I’ve owned my own business, hiring and firing employees, and wishing I could remember what a real two-day weekend was like. I’ve made mistakes with my employees but also learned by following the four spiritual leadership laws how to motivate them to make greater profits and find more leisure time—something that makes us all happy. Unfortunately, I had to learn the hard way like most of us do.

If you are a leader of any type—a parent, employer, pastor, coach, or teacher—do you ever find yourself looking for one more technique that might make people respond the way you’d like? Do you catch yourself pushing, pursuing, or threatening? Why won’t people do what we tell them? Why can’t they see it our way? A smart leader will learn to understand why.

The Four Gifts

Leadership is about motivating people to go where they need to go, be it a certain performance level at school and work, a certain maturity level in the home, or a certain spiritual level in the churches. People usually have their own idea of where they want to go, and this can conflict with the leadership vision. The trick is remembering the people, not just the project. That takes a genuine desire to know and understand the people you lead.

People under leadership need to feel they are cared about, that they are regarded with dignity and will be listened to, and that they will be rewarded for their efforts. While it may not seem like too much to ask, it always seems to be an ongoing problem in our world. The four spiritual laws can help.

When the prodigal son was born, he came into the world under the authority of his father who was charged with protection and provision for his son. When the son approached his father for his inheritance, the man had to put into practice all of his best leadership skills. The first thing he did was listen.

The First Gift – LISTEN (Without an Agenda)

The father stayed open to his son’s request, quietly listening, and not speaking until his son was finished. When is the last time you really listened to someone without an agenda, without interrupting, commenting, correcting, or mentally preparing your response or defense while they were still speaking? Listening is an art—hard to do—but one of the greatest gifts we can give others, and one of the most powerful leadership tools.

After he listened and discerned what would be the best steps to take in regard to his son’s request, the father led his son to a place of feeling heard, valued, and respected. Doubtless the son had made foolish choices before, and the father may not have had as much trust in his boy as he would have liked. But he trusted himself and he trusted life could teach his son. Listening gave him enough information to help him make his decision. Listening also allowed him time to formulate his decision about where to lead the boy instead of quickly spouting an answer.

The Second Gift – LEAD (Without Pushing or Pulling)

When we make a decision about those in our charge, or those who look to us for some type of leadership, we have envisioned a direction where we think they should go. Leaders don’t always have to have authority to lead; they sometimes simply see the direction and will motivate or encourage others to move toward it. Sometimes the leading that others want from us is just a taking of our hands and walking with them while they find their own path.

The wise man led his son to a place of choice by allowing him to freely live his life and spend his money. He led his son to an opportunity to grow and learn by his mistakes. He led him to a place where maturity could occur. He didn’t try to emotionally pull or push his son one way or other other. Using force, threats, or guilt to keep someone “at home” can keep them from growing, learning, failing and falling, and rising again. That’s not good leadership and it can physically and emotionally exhaust the one who pushes or pulls.

The old man had been leading his son from the day he was born by teaching life principles, tools he knew the son could draw on as an adult. Leaders are always leading, by example if not by direct movement. Despite the fact there was a good chance his son could squander his inheritance, something that could cripple him financially and socially all his life, the father chose to continue to love his son no matter what choices he might make.

The Third Gift – Love (Without Expectations)

Of course we need to have certain expectations of those under our care, our authority, or our responsibility. But those expectations should never get in the way of our continuing to care for their best welfare, to accept them the way they are, and to love them as fellow human beings on the same spiritual journey.

Let’s face it, unconditional love is tough—but not impossible. Loving without expectations is not only a gift we give others, it is a gift to ourselves, freeing us from expectations that will only set us up for disappointment, anger, or even bitterness. Like emotional plaque, these negative emotions block our heart from free-flowing peace and joy and drain us of energy. Worse, they can lead to an emotional heart attack. Who wants that?

Loving others as one of the four spiritual leadership laws doesn’t not mean we have to be close friends or lovers with those we lead; it doesn’t even mean we have to like them. Once I was asked to help provide emotional leadership to a woman who came to see me for post divorce counseling. I listened to her story, asked questions, and discovered her husband probably had good cause to leave. There was something about her that was false, manipulative, and dishonest, all cloaked in the role of being the perpetual victim. Although I kept my mouth shut, part of me wanted to say, “Lady, you are messed up, and if you want to get your life together you need to do x, y and z—and you’d better start doing it now!” I also sensed something spiritually dark about her, and thought to myself this is the type of person I never want to see again. I didn’t like her. But for that moment I was in a position of leadership, and for me that requires love. I made sure I listened with an open mind and heart and told her the truth about what direction I thought she should consider taking. I loved her by reminding myself that she was indeed a creation of and deeply desired by the same God who made me. Even though I did not like her, I loved her by treating her with kindness, courtesy, honesty, and by not saying what my emotions were begging to blurt out. In the letting go, I remember always that I am only responsible for my attitude and actions in any relationship—even one hour counseling sessions—and that I was not placed in a position to be this person’s savior. ‘Saving” someone usually takes time and is a team effort, headed by the person himself or herself who makes free choices. Some people don’t want to be saved, and it can be an act of love to step out of their way and let them go.

A leader who can love simply desires only the best for others and treats them with all the respect and dignity that any human deserves. Loving can mean ordinary caring, encouraging, emotionally supporting, forgiving—and yes—it can mean affection and (as it did with the father and his prodigal son) deeply devoted love.

The Fourth Gift – Let Go (Without Reservations)

Surely there must have been word from afar sent home while the prodigal son was squandering his wealth. There’s no doubt the father must have grieved the occasional bad news of his boy, but he never hunted him down and dragged him home. He didn’t send the troops, or figure out a way to make the boy stop what he was doing, He simply waited night after night as the sun went down, scanning the horizon for his son.

When we have dreams for our children, goals for our team, and desires for year-end profits, we will invest our emotions into our leadership roles. Letting go doesn’t mean emotionally cutting someone off or giving up on dreams. It doesn’t mean we stop caring. It doesn’t mean not feeling or hoping anymore. Rather, letting go means not trying to take back the reins or force the situation. It’s coming to a place of release and trust and accepting what is. Of the four spiritual laws, letting go will undoubtedly be the toughest challenge for many.

We’re born to hold tight

Can you recall how little babies like to grab and hold tight? Do you remember a time in our own family when their eyes lit up when they heard your car keys jingle-jangle in your hard? Remember how they crawled or toddled over to you and grabbed for the keys with their grubby little fists? How hard was it to retrieve those keys once the baby had them in his or her grasp? I was the big sister when I first tried to pry Mom’s car keys out of baby Fred’s hands. For such a small little guy he had an amazingly powerful grip. No matter our age, we all have an emotional grip that’s just as powerful when we want someone—our employees, students, church or family members or friends—to go where they should or do what we think they should do . . . and they don’t. We do not want to let go of our expectations!

Successfully letting go requires overcoming fear, developing trust, and understanding our responsibilities. Let me share a story that illustrates these three principles.

My brother Charlie flies corporate jets for a living. When he was fifteen he spent Saturdays washing airplanes for free at the Bermuda Dunes airport so he could be around planes and pay for flying lessons, eventually soloing and then becoming the youngest certified flight instructor in the Palm Springs area. Flying is his passion, and Charlie tells me he has his most spiritual moments when he is soaring above the clouds and can see the curve of the earth.

When his daughter Haley was old enough to sit up and be strapped into a seatbelt, Charlie put her in the co-pilot seat and began to teach her about basic flight principles. When she could form sentences Charlie had her calling into the flight tower on the radio as he supervised her communication. One special day, when Hayley turned eight, Charlie took her on a trip down past the Salton Sea toward the Mexican border. When their business was over and they reboarded the plane, Charlie put Hayley into the pilot’s seat of the small two-seater for the first time. Strapping her in and putting the headphones on her, Charlie instructed her to call in to the tower to request runway clearance for the flight home since there was also a helicopter and another small plane in the air.

As they slowly taxied down the runway preparing for takeoff, Hayley called in. The other two pilots and air traffic controller were not expecting to hear such a little girl’s voice coming over their radios. Charlie could hear surprise in their voices as each responded with their location. Hayley couldn’t get a visual, so she didn’t hesitate asking, “Helicopter guys, where are you? I can’t see you!” Charlie chuckled and then looked over at his daughter as if to remind her and Hayley added, “Oh yeah . . .over.””

The men acknowledged the little pilot and told her where to look out her window. Finally, the air traffic controller confirmed their flight path home and cleared Hayley for take-off. “Over and out,” he said. Then he added affectionately, “God speed, kid.”

“Dad,” asked Hayley, “What does God speed mean?” Suddenly overcome with emotion, Charlie’s words caught in his throat. It was deeply moving for a father to watch his daughter fly for the first time and see her being warmly and specially welcomed into the brotherhood of pilots.

“Well, baby, the air traffic controller is responsible for taking good care of you and giving you the right way to go. If he gives you the wrong headings, you’ll be dead. But he also has to trust that you’ll be smart enough to follow his directions because if you don’t you’ll be dead, and you’re responsible for that.”

“Oh . . .” Hayley replied seriously. “But what about the God speed part?”

“Well, when the air traffic controller really cares about you and wants you to be safe, and he has to let go and let you take off on your own. He wishes you the best, so he says ‘God speed’. That’s a very special wish, Hayley, because when the first astronaut went into space, the controllers at NASA said right before he took off, ‘God speed, John Glenn’ ”.

“But Dad . . .” Hayley asked, listening attentively, but a little exasperated with her lesson on space history, “What about God speed? What does that really mean?”

Choking back a tear, Charlie replied, “Baby, that means he hopes that God will hold your hand and take you where you need to go.”

Taking us where we need to go

Isn’t that what good leadership is all about? Creating enough trust so that the other person will choose to take our hand and follow us to a safe place. Hayley had a leader who listened carefully for information on where she was and where she wanted to go; he gave her directions and led her into a place that would be the safest ride home. He loved her enough to genuinely care and wish her well, no matter who she was or what might happen, and then he let go, understanding where his responsibility ended and where hers began, respecting her right to fly and make choices along the way. . . and entrusting her to God.

Just go to the gospels to see how Jesus models perfect leaderhship for us. He always listened first when people approached him with complaints,  needs, questions, or even accusations. Then he led them to the truth, to His Father, first in the model of his life, but also by stories, parables, direct teaching or even questions back to them to engage them in finding the answer. No matter their response, he remained able to love them fully and unconditionaly, hating their sin but loving them. Finally, he let go. He did not chase them down the street with one more parable. He let them remain free to choose right and wrong, life or death. He let go of any anxiety, worry or fear. He let go of any false guilt when they did not respond the way they should have.  Even at the Last Supper he so perfectly had let go of trying to control what was about to happen, he even freely sent Judas away to go do what he had to do! In the Garden he again let go, one last time, of his human resistance to suffering and death.  Jesus' "Not your will, but thine," is the healthiest form of "letting go". Let us love like Jesus loves. Let us lead as he leads.

Please listen to me, lead me when I ask, love me like you’d love yourself, and please let go of trying to control me. It’s the way we all want to be led, the way we all want to be loved.

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