Gratitude Friday: All Things Good...

For some reason, I feel like I need to put a sort of disclaimer about this post because it's another post about my former CEO.  This time, his memorial service.  

This makes two in a week.  And that feels like a lot.  

With the memorial service and checking in with former co-workers and chatting with people in my current world, I feel as if I've been talking about him more now than in my entire life.  In some ways, that's normal when someone passes away.  However, he was not a part of our daily lives.  Our family story, which we tell often, but not involved in the day to day or even month to month life.  

I feel pretty certain when we sent off that email to Aubrey and Katie telling them we had named our daughter after them, they mmmmmiiiiiggggghhhhtttt have been concerned about potential stalker like behavior.  I get that.  But we did and still do have no intention of interjecting ourselves into their life.  The name genuinely was and is a way of honoring the role they played for that season of our family story.  

The true hero of that story is Christ.  He put all the pieces of the puzzle together.  Placing me in that job with Aubrey in his role as co-founder and put the struggle of infertility in the middle of it.  He meant that and both families for His glory.  

And I am telling you, I CANNOT WAIT to see the families God created.  CAN.NOT.WAIT.

In the same way, the stories I'm about to tell you about Aubrey's memorial services and the man we all paid tribute to this week, the real hero here is Christ.  No human being is god.  No mortal man should be the standard by which we seek to live our lives.  That belongs solely to Jesus.  He and He alone is the reason there even are these stories to tell about Aubrey.   

So if you'll indulge me one last story about this weekend, I believe it will be worth the read.

Hopefully.

We'll start with the first memorial service I attended...

Sunday afternoon, some of the local Fort Worth team from our former company got together for a "Farewell Toast."  Our CEO loved wine and champagne and Dr. Pepper.  With Sonic ice.  Everyone was encouraged to bring a beverage for toasting and stories to share.

(Everyone shocked that I am the one who brought the Dr. Pepper, raise your hand.)

(Exactly)

It was a lovely afternoon.  Windy but lovely.  Only about 15 of us were able to make it but heavens, it was nice to see those 15 people.  Lots of hugs and catching up.  

Everyone shared wonderful stories.  Mostly, they centered around three main topics.

One, our CEO made each employee feel as if they were the most important person in the room.  He worked hard to recognize every person he met and his ability to recall the names of people in all aspects of the company are things of legend. 

Two, he was extremely generous.  One of us mentioned how much he and the employees reporting to him were over paid.  Yep.  Over paid.  Every six months.  All 15 of us in that group shock our heads in agreement.   After I'd left the company and got my last tax document, I actually called to make sure they had the number correct.  Grossly over paid.

And three, the man asked a crazy amount of questions...about YOU.  We talked about how nervous he could make us with his rapid fire questions.  None of us knew when but we all assumed we would not have the answer to one of his questions at some point.  The man had a mind for minutia and we all knew that.  Likely, he knew more about our jobs than we did so to say we needed to be on our A game is a vast understatement.

Honestly, each employee wanted to make Aubrey proud.  We were proud of him and gosh, we couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.  For all those reasons we had talked about, we raised our glasses and said our farewells.

After the Farewell, I drove up to Oklahoma.  Super Woman Linda graciously agreed to open up her guest room for me.  And in true Southern fashion, she had every one of my favorite fruits cut up and ready for me.  Along with gluten-free waffles and Diet Dr. Pepper.  

Hospitality at it's best.

Along with Aunt Lori, we had such a wonderful time visiting.  There were chips and salsa.  At Ted's.  Which is just HOME.  (Although, I did feel a strange pull towards Taco Bell too.  The amount of Nachos Belgrade I ate in OKC was extreme.)  Linda and Lori's friendship is a gift Aubrey gave me.  One that continues to bless me.  

I need to be real here and say, the service was hard.  It was beautiful.  Crowded.  I sat there looking at all these people and feeling overwhelmed by the number of lives a single person can touch.  The program included a note card for us to write our favorite Aubrey story and all of us had no idea what to write.  How do I narrow that down?  I caught site of the bowl of cards as we left the church.  It was overflowing.  

A friend and colleague of Aubrey's gave the first tribute.  He did an amazing job.  

One of Aubrey's current assistants sat next to me.  We had worked together while I was in OKC and, of course, we swapped stories as we waited.  A specific tale about a caddy he met once continues to amaze us.  But I told her, "We can't tell those stories.  They're not ours to tell, right?  It's the caddy's story to tell.  Or Aubrey's story to tell and he never would."

And then his friend told it during his tribute.

Apparently, I was wrong.  Aubrey did tell.

While at Augusta playing golf, Aubrey noticed his caddy was in pain.  His teeth.  They were awful.  If I remember the story as Aubrey told us, his mouth was full of rotten teeth.  Aubrey noticed and arranged for him to see a dentist and get everything fixed.  Everything.  All.The.Teeth.  

His assistant said the caddy still calls every year to offer his thanks.

These are the stories that never make the daily paper or an MSNBC report or a blog post. 

(Until now)  

(Although someone was live Tweeting the service so Twitter beat me to it)

After his assistant and I had talked about the story and then hearing it again from the stage, one thought kept churrning.  I couldn't shake it.  

How many wealthy men had played golf with that same caddy by his side and done nothing?  

It's not like the caddy just stands there mute.  It's his JOB to be part of the conversation and assist with the game.  Caddy's are invested in the success of the golfer.  They make a living off the performance and tips are likely higher after a good round.

So how many men talked with the Caddy, saw his mouth, heard him wince, maybe saw him cover his mouth when he smiled, and WALKED AWAY?  

Hundreds?  Thousands?

Did any of them even notice?

And then this is the question I have to ask of myself:  Would I have noticed?

The entire service was full of these kinds of stories.  His kids spoke.  His priest spoke.  A former governor of Oklahoma spoke.  Every single one of those people had a story to tell about how generous Aubrey had been.  How he had never missed a single detail about almost every person he met.  Thanks to those rapid fire questions he'd shoot at them.

He valued people, gave generously to all around him and made sure to both ask and listen to you talking about you.

There I sat.  3,500 people.  All to honor one man who lived a crazy-short 56 years.

As with most funerals, people walk away examining their own life.  Nothing like an incredibly tragic and unexpected death to shake us to our core.  Even if we don't know the person personally.  

Robin Williams comes to mind.  John Lennon.  Kennedy.  The Challenger explosion.  These deaths are marker stones of a sort, right?  Ones that force us to slow down, take a look around and do a little thinking.

And as someone who routinely lives in their head ANYWAY, well, I've been doing a whole LOT of that self-examination stuff.

I'll turn 40 this year.  Which is about the most awesome thing ever because that's how old I've been my whole life.  At least it feels that way to me.  Aubrey was just 16 years older.  

What will I have accomplished in another 16 years?  

Clearly, I won't be building a Fortune 100 company.  Employing thousands of people nation wide.  A company largely credited with America's current state of energy independence.  Becoming part owner of an NBA franchise.  Investing in hundreds of restaurants in the city.  Constructing an entire new industry along the river, when most people thought it was just a ditch.  

No, that's never gonna happen.  

But there's oh so much I could be doing.

What about living a life of generosity?  A life intentionally lived serving others?  One where I get my hands dirty with the messes of those around me?  Would I ever ask the Caddy about his teeth?  Or would I hide behind the lie of not wanting to offend?  The lie that someone will ask for help if they need it?

I kept thinking about what our church teaches us about our posture.  Living life with hands open.  Both to give and to receive.  It's changed my view of the world from the way I see people, wealth, gratitude and especially my prayer life.  If you see me praying, you'll see me with my hands open wide.  In a position to receive what my Father wants to give.

Most people live with their hands clenched in fists.  Fearful of giving up control or letting someone take advantage.  We give when we have to but rarely with a joyful heart.  Maybe we want everyone else to give because we don't believe we have enough.  Or maybe we don't give because we're too busy.  The schedule's just too tight right now.  I'll ask my neighbor how they're doing someday.  I'll volunteer at the shelter next year.  

What if we honored people more?  What if we noticed our caddy was in pain?  Or our cashier?  Our waitress?  Our neighbor?  Our kid?  Our spouse?  What if we stopped waiting for someone else to do something?  Or stopped living our lives as if we are somehow not quite blessed enough?  

What if we spent more time with that next door neighbor instead of making excuses?  Asked some questions about them?  Listened intently to their answers?  Invested in relationships with the people God put around us?

What if we intentionally honored others the way Jesus did and got involved in people and their messes?  And then met their immediate needs?

What if, instead of clinched fists, we simply, honestly, humbly lived with open hands?

Y'all.  I am preaching to myself here.

Most people in our lives probably don't need thousands of dollars of dental work.  But they might need someone to watch their kids so they could go to the grocery store.  Maybe a meal when you know they've had a particularly yucky week.  Spent what feels like wasted time sitting outside dance classes or soccer practice making toiletry bags for the homeless.  

Y'all, just what if?  

I don't know what the Lord has planned.  He seems to surprise me more than, you know, letting me in on the plan.  But this week, 3,500 people heard story after story after story about living a life with open hands.  Of giving when it was not expected.  Honoring when society said he was too good to even notice.  Serving personally instead of asking others to do so for him. 

I cannot possibly be the only one whose heart was stirred and convicted.  There's no way.  

And what will all those hearts stirred and convictions placed produce?  

Yet again, we will never know this side of heaven.

My hope?  My prayer?  For God's kingdom to grow.  For His glory and love and grace to shine as we, maybe, just maybe, honor others by serving and helping and reaching out with open hands to each person God places in our path.

Not as Aubrey did but as he learned to do from Christ.  The ultimate example of a servant leader.

Lord, may you continue to work in my own life and, Lord, may the lives of all those your son, Aubrey, touched be moved toward you.  Through this tragedy, may Your kingdom increase.  A little more heaven here.  May Aubrey's death here on earth save more from a death separated from You.

"He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."  ~Micah 6:8