Franciscan Leadership

Saint Francis was a good leader because he was humble. To learn about the world and what others went through, he gave up all his possessions and lived as a vagrant in his hometown. Nobody understood what he was doing. Honestly, I don’t know if he totally knew. But he had a deep faith that God was working something special in his heart.

The best principals were once teachers and the best chefs started as dishwashers. Good leaders know what it’s like to work. They understand everybody in their organization, from the executives to the line workers folding boxes. They get it because they’ve done it. Francis went out of his way to “do” the way of the poor, and because of that he was humiliated.

Good luck seeking humility without humiliation.

Francis was called by God to “rebuild the Church.” The only way forward for him was to go down the social ladder and into the dirty of humanity. It’s hard to lead from the top down–Francis saw Church leaders fail at that time and again. If he wanted to rebuild the Church so the honest message of Christ could be perpetuated throughout the world, he’d have to become a worker. A craftsman, like Jesus. Someone who can work with their hands, someone who understands how most people live.

Good leaders are humble. Good leaders envision the change they want to make. And good leaders don’t listen to the unwelcome, unwarranted, and unfounded criticism of others. They stand their ground in humble service, loving those they lead, turning their minds and hearts towards the ultimate goal: God. Good leaders bring out the best in people, just as Christ brings out the best in us (because he is the best in us).

There’s a lot of rebuilding still to be done, but it won’t be the work of weary hearts or soft hands. We need more people who understand genuine humility making the decisions about how to move our businesses, our Churches, and our world forward. We more Francises if we want things to get better.

How to change your life

I want to be better than I am right now. You probably do, too. And if you’re like me, every now and then you write down a few lists about how to make life better.

One is a list of attributes you’d like to have in the future. This is your dream.

The next is a list of what you’re doing now that’s preventing your dream from existing. This is your reality check.

The final list is usually all the things you should be doing to become the person on list one. This is your action plan.

Here’s where you mess up, so pay attention. Tomorrow, you’re going to try and be your future self. You’ll rewrite list three and check things off throughout the day. You’ll go to bed feeling accomplished, like you made something of your life.

The day after that, you do it again. Except you don’t check off everything like yesterday. You have to put out a fire, your uncle calls, and you forget you have to cook dinner. Your pillow feels less satisfying, and you start to question the feasibility of your action plan.

You wake up the next day and return to who you were before list one. You don’t write any more lists for a few months.

There’s an easy fix to all of this: start by doing one thing on list three today. Then do it again tomorrow and the next day. Keep doing it until it becomes a habit, then slowly attack something else. Maybe this one takes a month to master but you commit to it anyways. This continues, and in eight months you’re closer to the person described on list one.

So do yourself a favor and slow down. Life is long and you can’t become someone you’re proud of tomorrow. To make real, lasting change you have to extend your ludicrous deadlines.

If you don’t know where to start, ask yourself this: “what can I do today that will make life better?”

A New Kitchen Table

I came home for the weekend and saw my parent’s new kitchen table. It’s a high top wood table with a dark stain and comfortable bar stools surround it. This was the final sep of their kitchen makeover which began earlier this year. This t’s the same hight as the new island so that, theoretically, the tables could be connected to fit 10 for a big family dinner.

This new table replaced the table that was in our home since before I was born. That table was ugly — it had dents on the legs from ramming toys into it, pencil scars on the surface from countless hours of homework, and scratched off gloss from intrigued children. The light wood has faded and the chipped blue paint of the legs has been covered a few times with chipped black paint. It was ugly but broken in. From happy hours to family dinner, discussions about college and card games, this table was m favorite feature of our house. It was the cornerstone of our family.

I voiced my disapproval of change many times. I’ve also voiced my dislike for the new table (I don’t like the style). But my parents understood, so they saved our original table for me. It’s in the attic, waiting for me to find a good use for it. I have some ideas…Stay tuned.

I guess I’ll have to give the new table a try. It’s healthy to force yourself to change when you don’t want to. Acceptance of what is sounds like a pretty good discipline to practice.