It was pouring down rain. As I pulled up to the event venue—wipers working furiously against the raindrops pummeling my windshield—I noticed the option to valet, entertained the idea for a fraction of a second, and turned into the self-parking lot. $22 for valet? That definitely wasn’t in the budget. Decked out in the nicest suit I owned, I stepped out of the car into a puddle, opened my umbrella, and attempted to balance my laptop and umbrella in one arm, and a giant box full of my books in my other arm, as I made my way to the venue entrance. With socks soaked through, I walked on stage and gave it all I had.
Thankfully, things look a little different now—at least most of the time. With more experience, I’m landing bigger speaking engagements with better benefits. My days of lugging books around and trudging through parking lots full of puddles still happen, but they are few and far between. At my last speaking engagement, the company who hired me didn’t try to cut corners. I pulled right up to the main entrance of the Ritz Carlton at Lake Oconee, handed my keys to the valet attendant, and was immediately greeted by a host: “Welcome, Mr. Scott. We’re so glad you’re here!” Talk about a contrast. It’s truly humbling. I love what I get to do.
I’ve heard Jeff Foxworthy talk about the progression in his comedic career and describe a similar experience. He went from doing any comedy gig he could get on nights and weekends to hosting sold-out shows across the country. He went from being treated like the 3:00 a.m. slot at the local comedy club to “Mr. Foxworthy, how can I serve you?”
I’m nowhere near as successful as Jeff Forxworthy, but I can see a similar progression. You have a little bit of success, you gain additional benefits, and people start treating you differently. Jeff Foxworthy said that when clients and hosts first began treating him better he was genuinely humbled and thankful, but the more he progressed in his career, the more he began to expect this special treatment. He said it became easy for him to forget where he’d come from and be genuinely grateful for the care he received.
This plays out in so many different areas of our lives. Our first experiences of care, kindness, and service make us grateful, but once we get into a routine, it’s easy to take them for granted and to expect others to go the extra mile. When you first begin dating someone, you’re amazed by the things they do and the ways they love and care for you. But down the road, after you’ve been married for a little while, it’s easy to expect those things. When they bring you a cup of coffee as you’re getting ready, you aren’t appreciative because you expect them to do it. When you’re a new member of a church, it’s easy to appreciate your pastor and the hours of work he puts into teaching and serving your community. But once you’ve been a member for a little while, you begin to expect it, and you stop thanking him for the work he does for you week after week.
Early on at ADDO, I remember being so thankful and genuinely appreciative of people willing to work extra hours and put in additional effort to help a client and our company succeed. But I have seen seasons of our organization where I began to expect people to do that. Here’s what’s interesting: When I am appreciative of what others do, I find that most of the time they are appreciative of what I do. But the inverse is also true. And that’s the danger.
This week, I want to challenge you to live a life of appreciation. If you begin to notice yourself expecting something that you used to appreciate, stop, take a deep breath, and intentionally grow in gratitude.
When I was younger, I felt far more comfortable confronting conflict head-on. I remember being a leader in student organizations and addressing different problems easily. If there was a way to do something better, we were going to do it. If somebody needed to be challenged, I was on it. No problem.
But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become less confrontational. There are times when this can be a good thing. But more often than not, it has made me more hesitant and far less willing to address certain challenges in a timely manner. In fact, I’m willing to admit that my unwillingness to confront conflict could be the single greatest gap in my personal leadership.
Recently, I heard a story about a cow and a buffalo that’s challenged me to better handle conflict this year.
Let’s start with cows. Did you know that the natural reaction for a cow when it senses a storm coming is to run away from it? If the storm is moving from west to east, the cow will move further east, trying to outrun the storm. Here’s the problem: cows are slow. The storm will always catch up to them. And because the cow continues to try to run away from the storm, it will actually spend more time in the storm than if it had just stood still and never moved at all.
A buffalo takes a totally different approach. When a buffalo senses a storm coming, it moves toward it. If the storm is moving from west to east, the buffalo moves west and will move headfirst into the storm. Because the buffalo is going one direction as the storm is moving the opposite way, it will end up spending far less time in the storm than the cow.
When approaching conflict, I’m not saying it’s good to be a bull (or a buffalo) in a China shop. A love for conflict and a desire for constant confrontation is not a good thing. But this example of the cow and the buffalo is meant to remind us of this principle: when we see a challenge and are willing to face it head-on, the consequences are fewer and the resolution comes more quickly.
So this week: Turn around. Face the conflict you’ve been running away from. And meet your next challenge head-on.
His intent was an invitation and challenge to his friends and guests to assess the progress of their thinking. I’m fortunate enough to have friends who push me to do the same. Every year around the holidays, I get together with a group of friends that I deeply respect. This time is special because, although I see these friends individually throughout the year, we’re rarely all in the same room.
This is a group that pushes me to grow, and as a part of our time together this year, the host asked us to come prepared to answer Emerson’s famous greeting, along with a couple of other intentional questions. As we launch into this new year, many of you have made resolutions and set new goals. But one thing I’d challenge each of you to do this year is to ask the right questions.
Here are a few to consider:
1. What do you value, and are you true to your values?
2. What should you be doing that you aren’t doing right now?
3. What do you wish you knew that you don’t know?
4. When was the last time you set a big goal?
5. What have you learned lately?
6. If you weren’t afraid to fail, what would you try?
7. If you knew you only had a certain number of days to live, what would you do differently?
8. How have you grown in character this year?
9. Who could you count on if you really needed somebody?
10. Need another one?
Martin Luther King Jr. famously said:
In 2020, if you want better answers, make sure you’re asking the right questions.
Allie and I met through a study abroad program for young leaders that I helped start. Since graduating college, she’s founded and grown a wildly successful business—True40 Studio. As we sat down to eat and catch up, I loved hearing how Allie, now a wife and mom, became a flourishing entrepreneur. Here’s her story, followed by some great advice for each of us to take into 2020.
Allie graduated from Auburn University and moved to New Orleans shortly after, newly married and eager to jump into her career. She had a degree in kinesiology and landed a job requiring her to test out wellness solutions. This allowed her to try out and gain certification to a diverse range of fitness approaches (think classes like crossfit, barre, yoga, pilates, etc.).
After their time in New Orleans, they moved back to the small town of Auburn, Alabama, and Allie was determined to open a franchise of one of her favorite exercise concepts. She expressed her desire to her dad and asked him how to get the money to pursue this venture. Her dad asked a wise question, “What do you like about this franchise?” She answered him, and then he asked in return, “If you started your own concept, what would you do differently?” She told him her idea of a perfect fitness studio. And he responded matter-of-factly: “Why don’t you just do that?”
After giving a laundry list of reasons why creating her own fitness studio was surely a bad idea, her dad encouraged her to do it anyway. A few weeks went by, and Allie still wasn’t sold on her ability to pull it off. So her dad showed up and said, “Let’s go look at places for your fitness studio.” As they looked, she found her dream space, prayed, and without even a name for her concept, signed a lease on a place.
Allie created True40 Studio, and it was embraced instantly by the community. So when her husband was assigned his clinical rotations in Birmingham, she decided to open a second location there. Now, she also has locations in Tuscaloosa and Atlanta—where she, her husband, and baby girl now reside.
Hearing her story inspired me. To be honest, it reminded me of my younger days, when I had the guts to take big risks and just do it. Was it naive? Probably. But it reminded me that if you have a dream, you should pursue it. If you have an idea, make it come to life. If you can make it better, start today. Allie and I hadn’t seen each other in almost ten years, and I fear the Kevin of today—that’s married, has a kid, and is a little more prone to stability—may not have the same “let’s just do it” attitude that he did back then. But the message that I wrote in 8 Essential Exchanges is still as pertinent today as it was then. We (that’s all of us) should still exchange stability to do something significant. We should still exchange the immediate for the ultimate.
So here’s my challenge to you this week:
Pack the Uhaul.
Send the application.
Make the call.
Start the Bible study.
Open the business.
Cultivate the new family tradition.
Teach the workout class.
Try the new diet.
Find the mentor.
Book the trip.
If you’ve been waiting for permission to respond to that feeling inside you, consider this post your letter of consent.
Just start.
If you’ve never seen it, or it’s been a while since you have, the movie opens with a scene of men, women, and children praying for a man named George Bailey. The camera pans, and the image shifts from a snowy Bedford Falls to a vision of heaven and a conversation between two angels. They’re preparing to send help to George Bailey and discuss the next angel in line—Clarence, a novice angel without his wings. They claim he has “the IQ of a rabbit but the faith of a child” and send for him anyway.
The conversation goes something like this:
One angel says to Clarence: “A man down on earth needs our help.”
Clarence asks: “Is he sick?”
The other angel replies, “No, it’s worse. He's discouraged.”
Have you ever been there before? Is there anything worse in life than feeling discouraged? You know, discouragement is truly a sense of hopelessness.
The famous Christmas song “Oh Holy Night” contains this line: Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
I looked up that word pining—it’s one we don’t hear very often. It actually means to suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart. Sounds a lot like discouragement to me.
But the song gives us some desperately needed good news:
He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.
A thrill of hope because He appeared. And that hope, the hope found in a baby born in Bethlehem, is what Christmas is all about.
“For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
– Isaiah 9:6
To be sure, there are plenty of things to enjoy during this season. I love the lights, the tastes, the smells, the gift-giving, and the fact that people are a little nicer to one another. However, Christmas movies hold a special place in my heart. We watch them year after year, but we don’t get tired of them. And I think I know why. Although these movies contain very different stories, each have that similar theme that keeps us coming back—redemption.
Let me give you some examples.
A Christmas Carol: Scrooge starts the movie as a greedy, heartless curmudgeon, but through his encounters with the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future, his heart is changed. He embraces Christmas, gives generously, and good triumphs over evil.
Miracle on 34th Street: The Santa Claus at a large department store points shoppers to a competitor where they could buy toys at cheaper prices. At first, the big business executives are outraged, but through the persistent humility of Kris Kringle, their hearts are changed, and they embrace the magic of the Christmas season.
Home Alone: As a grown adult, I still find so much satisfaction in seeing this little kid out-smart two burglars. One gets an iron dropped on his head, and the other gets shot with a BB gun.
The Grinch: He loathes the Whos of Whoville and tries to take away their Christmas. But the warmth of Cindy Lu Who changes him, and “the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day.” He realizes Christmas doesn’t come from a store and joins in on the celebration.
Elf: Buddy the Elf’s dad begins the movie as an angry workaholic. But through his time with his long-lost son, his priorities change. He chooses his family over his career and even helps Santa’s sleigh fly with his Christmas cheer.
And let’s not forget all of the Christmas movies that air on the Hallmark Channel. Even though they’re cheesy, they get millions of views each Christmas season. Why? They may be predictable, but they always end the way you had hoped. Everybody is longing for a story where good triumphs over evil—a story of redemption. Because in the world we live in today, it often doesn’t feel like the good guys are winning.
I’ve got great news for us this year:
“The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world...” – John 1:9
Because of that story, our story is forever different. Good truly does triumph over evil. The light entered into the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it.
For those of you who don’t know, this is a Jewish tradition. It’s a coming-of-age ceremony for girls that celebrates their entrance into the community as a responsible, contributing member. This rite of passage for girls—or bar mitzvah for boys—has been celebrated in the Jewish culture for generations.
The young lady we celebrated recited Hebrew and shared reflections from the work required to arrive at this special day. The amount of disciplined preparation she placed into this ceremony was truly impressive. There were many remarkable things about this celebration, but a few stand out among the rest. There are three things I took away from attending this bat mitzvah that I believe apply to all people, regardless of culture or tradition. These ideas matter in your work, your home, and your relationships:
During different parts of this service, we were reminded certain things were happening because of long-standing tradition, dating back to 1300 BC and the time of Moses. These are ancient commands that people are still seeking to obey because they are applicable and helpful to their lives. What does that mean for us today? Ecclesiastes 1:9 says,
That’s not meant to downplay our individual contributions, but it’s a humbling reminder that our big ideas are really one of two things: a new way to talk about something that has been true for a long time, or if it really is new, it’s probably not that groundbreaking or important.
During the bat mitzvah, it was obvious that the entire congregation, every single person, was invested in this young woman—her life and her journey. We all need this kind of community, one that stretches beyond our immediate families. For me, one of the best places to find this has been in the fellowship of a local church. If you’re not finding it there, you should find it somewhere.
I often see groups that go through ADDO’s leadership programs develop this kind of community as they have shared experiences. In each program, there comes a point where you have to let the guard down, be a little more vulnerable, and engage in some real-talk. This inevitably leads to people knowing one another on a deeper level. People crave this kind of community, and it’s vital to find it and cultivate it where you can.
This young woman’s parents, her Rabbi, and other important people in her life verbally spoke truth over her life. The verbal piece is key. You can open up Instagram or Pinetrest and find inspirational quotes. But going to this bat mitzvah reminded me of the importance of speaking truth to somebody face to face. Proverbs 18:21 says, “Life and death are in the power of the tongue.” It’s interesting that it doesn’t say, “Life and death are in the power of the pen.” As someone who writes books and blogs, I believe the written word has tremendous value, but there’s a special power in speaking real words into people’s lives.
This celebration ceremony of a different faith reminded me of ways I can grow in my own life and leadership. Here are two specific challenges for you and for me this week:
1. Do you have community outside your immediate family? If not, find it. Cultivate it.
2. Speak truth to the people in your life. Stop typing and let them hear your voice.
Maybe you’ve never sold goods or services, but I bet you’ve at least tried to sell your idea or opinion. Let’s go the movies! Tacos are better than nachos. Cake is an acceptable breakfast food. I know, earth-shattering stuff.
But I’m trying to make this point—we’ve all been there. We’re working hard to sell something, to convince someone of our idea, and sometimes our customers, clients, or friends are just not buying it.
I experienced this with an ADDO client. We have a good, long-standing relationship, but there was a season where we were trying to move them in a certain direction that would benefit both parties and our shared work. However, after multiple tries to persuade them, nothing seemed to resonate.
I expressed my frustrations about this business exchange to a mentor and friend, and in response, he taught me a helpful lesson.
My friend reminded me that people make decisions based on one of three factors:
Put another way, people decide to buy something, or to make a change, when they see something more positive (vision), when they are trying to solve a problem (pain), or when they are afraid they’ll face challenges if they don’t do something (fear of pain).
The way it was explained to me, I had been selling vision. That’s what I enjoy selling. It’s positive and exciting. My mentor pointed out that when people stop buying vision, you have to create or show them where they have a pain point or at the very least, create a fear of pain on the horizon if no action is taken.
It’s not surprising that I get the most satisfaction out of selling vision. “If you do this, your life is going to be better; your organization is going to be healthier; your employees are going to be more engaged; your customers are going to be more loyal.”
Unfortunately, of the three factors, people base most of their decisions on pain or the fear of pain.
Your employees are disengaged. Your customers aren’t loyal. You’re losing the war for talent. Your strategy is not clear, and your people are frustrated. This is pain, and it’s motivating.
If you don’t make a change, your employees are going to leave and go somewhere else, your customers are going to go to your competitor, your engagement will drop, your customer-satisfaction will decrease, and you’ll be less efficient. This is a legitimate fear of impending pain.
Think about some of the major decisions you’ve made. Were those because of vision, pain, or fear of pain?
I bought the new car because of vision.
I bought the new transmission because of pain.
We bought the extended warranty because of the fear of pain.
Our nonprofit provides underprivileged children the opportunity for a better life—vision.
No more waiting in long lines, order through our mobile app—pain.
If you don’t sign up for this new streaming service, you’ll miss out on the new show everyone is talking about—fear of pain.
If you haven’t thought about how you sell your idea, product, or service, now is the time.
If they aren’t buying what you’re selling, you may not need to change your product, just your tactic. Shift the language, and shake things up. When you figure out what motivates them to buy, it’s far easier to sell.
Jump in the shower,
Grab a quick breakfast (probably don’t have time).
Hop in the car,
Leaving 15 minutes early to get to work and prep for my first meeting.
Accident on the interstate,
All lanes are shut down—Go from 15 minutes early to 20 minutes late.
Late to the first meeting,
Try to wrap early, but still late to the second meeting.
Now heading to lunch.
Check in on projects.
Wrap up work day.
Options in front of me:
I could go work out or
Go home and hang out with my family.
I really need to work out;
I’m definitely out of shape.
But I really need to get home to my family.
I skip the workout, head home, and walk in the door.
This is the moment I need to be fully present for my family, but most of the time—I’m not. I’m distracted, thinking of the twists and turns of the day’s events, and it’s difficult for me to give my wife and son my best, my undivided attention.
Did you know that the Jewish day starts in the evening? Their days begin at sundown when their work is finished. That concept is an interesting shift from my typical perspective. Often at the end of the day, one where I’ve been pulled in a million different directions, I’m just trying to power through this time—to just make it to bed.
But for people in the Jewish culture, this evening time is the beginning of a new day. It’s not the end, but the start of something. If we embraced this practice, imagine how this would change these hours for us? How much more do I have to offer at the beginning of the day than at the end? I want to live and lead in a way that I offer my best to the people who need it the most. I don’t want to run out of steam before I get to the most important part of my day.
I’m from the south, so this is a good illustration for me: Imagine going through the buffet line, and you see there’s one last bit of macaroni and cheese in the edge of the pan. Do you want to take the last, cold, crusty scoop? Or do you want to wait for them to bring out the fresh pan of hot, bubbly macaroni and cheese? I know where I stand. I’m holding up that buffet line to wait on the good stuff!
I don’t want my family to get the last little bit—the leftovers. I want there to be an abundance, so I can give them the best, not just what’s left.
In my current stage of life, I need to focus on my family. However, if you’re reading this, I’d challenge you to think about who needs to receive your best but often just gets what’s left. For you, it might not be the time at home in the evening; it might be the big meeting that you need to be fully engaged in but you’re not. Maybe it’s the Sunday School lesson you need to prepare that’s been pushed to the back-burner. Maybe it’s a phone call that you need to make to your friend that’s struggling, but you squeeze the call in during a quick commute when you’re partially distracted. Take some time to think about this question:
This week, let’s make every effort to live out of an abundance mentality, not a scarcity mentality. We must believe we have a lot to give, and in order to be good stewards of it, we need to give our best, not what’s left, to the people most important to us.