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Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. Monday, July 24, 2000 Volume II Number 30
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FOCUS - Giving and Getting
There are lots of ways to give.
You give gifts. You offer hospitality. You lend your tools to your neighbor. You do “pro-bono” work – you contribute your time and expertise without compensation for the good of the organization. You are generous with your grown-up toys. You give discarded clothing to Goodwill. When the new furniture arrives, the old stuff is handed down to someone with and empty room. They are delighted with your old stuff. These are all forms of giving.
And each brings its own reward.
You also give gifts of money. You set aside some of your earnings and direct them to a worthy cause. You support a needy family member. You contribute to the support of a person who commits his or her time and energy to a mission you believe in. You donate to a relief agency, which provides basic necessities to people in crisis. Perhaps your money is used to combat a nasty disease like cancer or HIV or Alzheimer’s.
A gift can be an expression of appreciation. Or recognition for a job well done. You give gifts to significant people on birthdays and anniversaries and in anticipation of the birth of a child or a wedding or a graduation or the achievement of some milestone worthy of celebration.
Or maybe your money gifts go to your House of Worship. You believe that your church or synagogue is an important part of your family’s life. You believe in its mission. You find help and hope and direction and purpose there, and you know others do as well. You are grateful to the God who has provided your family, your home, your health and your employment, and you believe it is only right to return a substantial piece of that income to the place where He does His best work in your life.
But a primary characteristic of a gift is that you do not expect anything in return. If you do, it’s not really a gift. Instead, it’s a bribe. Or a manipulation. Or an enticement to do business. Or perhaps you are simply doing what is expected… but your heart is not in it. If you are looking for a payback of any sort, it’s not really a gift.
Real gifts are given freely – no strings attached.
Jake Henderson attached no strings.
* * * * * * *
Jake spent twenty years making golf clubs.
He started in a garage, like a whole lot of do-it-yourselfers. The difference was that Jake worked for a guy who had big dreams. First of all, it was word-of-mouth. A bunch of golfers on Southern California courses used those “home-mades” and swore by them. Demand increased.
The guys in the garage put Jake on a mission to build the best irons ever made. They raised R&D (Research and Development) money. Jake and one other engineer designed and tested a set of irons that soon became an industry standard (you’ve heard the name). Jake’s name is on the patent.
As the company grew, management tapped Jake to travel internationally. His assignment: find manufacturers who could take the club design, and produce the growing number of irons now demanded by the marketplace. He learned to cross over the cultural barriers, cut the deal, maintain the quality controls and manage costs. Domestic and then international sales mushroomed. Jake and his business colleagues participated in the American dream. Their little out of the garage business became a global enterprise. A household brand name.
And a take-over target.
* * * * * * *
The world of Golf has metamorphosed from an exclusive “rich man’s game” to an international, cross-cultural obsession. Golfers come in every size, shape and color. Both genders. Old and young.
A new batch of youngsters are tearing up the PGA. The Senior Tour brings bigger winnings now to the old guys than ever dreamed possible in their prime. The Women’s Tour draws huge crowds, and a huge television audience.
The first golfers were the Scots. They played in the Fifteenth Century at St. Andrews in
Edinburgh – the
host of this year’s British Open. It
was King James who brought golf to London in 1608 – the same King James who
commissioned a new, modern translation of the Bible (the King James Version)
three years later (1611).
Today, golf is a multi-million dollar industry. Top stars arrive at the tour in their private jets. Corporate sponsors fork out millions just to have their logo on the pro’s cap.
Names like Titleist, Callaway, MacGregor, Cobra, Topflight, Footjoy, Pinnacle, Ping, Taylor Made… are no longer cottage industries. They are multi-national, global corporate enterprises, whose stock is traded publicly.
Jake’s clubs enjoy a substantial market share. You’ll find a set in the Shark’s (Greg Norman’s) bag. The Aussie loves ‘em.
* * * * * *
Those guys who started in the garage enjoyed a substantial payday when their company was acquired. Jake and his wife Sally looked at the check and then each other, and then they broke out in a wild, uninhibited laughter… the kind you’d expect from a pair of disbelieving lovers who just hit the jackpot. They hugged. They cried.
Pay to the order of Jake. It was a big number.
And then Jake and Sally prayed. It was a prayer of gratitude. It was a confession of unmerited favor. “We don’t deserve this, Lord,” they said. It was a prayer for wisdom. “Lord, what do we do now?” Jake and Sally had been together for a long time, and that’s what they do. They pray. And they are teaching their two young boys to do the same.
They got the direction they sought.
First they paid their taxes. They learned that Uncle Sam demands a big piece of that kind of success. All in the name of “re-distribution of wealth.” (Far as I know, they are still waiting for a thank you note from the government.) Jake wrote the check without complaint, and muttered something about how grateful he is to live in this country.
Then he paid off his mortgage.
No new house. No expensive toys. No change in lifestyle. The pressure of taxes and debts though, were gone. Vaporized by the close of the corporate deal.
The rest got invested. Invested for future security.
* * * * * * *
In the corporate memo, Jake was told “there will be no substantial changes.” This company is successful. We bought it because we like it as it is. You can be assured that things will remain as they have been.
That’s what the memo said.
It took about three months for the assurances of that memo to fade away like a magician’s disappearing ink.
First of all, the other principals were having way too much fun spending their lump sums. Lots of time off to play with the new toys, reading the manuals and mastering the wizardry of high-tech, high performance playthings. Travel to exotic places. New construction from lofty hilltop view lots. Expansions of master bedrooms. Decorating. State-of-the-art kitchens and home theatres and waterfalls over designer boulders and rocks into the swimming pools.
Productivity hit the skids about a week after the checks were written. Just a few months before, Jake sat in that familiar office where he prepared for the buyer’s due diligence team to visit his department. When they came, he dazzled the bean counters with graphs and charts and tours of the plant. But that same office, which just recently buzzed like a beehive, now could have been the ghost town set for an old John Wayne movie. Everyone was pre-disposed.
Except for Jake and a skeleton crew who still believed in a full day’s work in exchange for that paycheck.
Not long after the buy-out, a new management team arrived. The lay-offs started. Jake made the first cut, but it was no surprise on the second. After a few months trying to look busy, Jake was called into the hatchet man’s office where he got his notice, a handshake and a severance.
He had money in the bank. A portfolio of quality investments. But no job.
* * * * * * *
Maybe some women feel the same. But for sure, us guys derive much of our identity from our place of business.
It’s there we have an image in the world of work. It’s there we have a title. People there know what we can do. We carry around a fistful of unanswered messages that tell the world we are needed. We are sought after. They’re looking for us. We’re connected. The cell phone. The fax number. The PDA. The pager. The name on the door. The books on the shelf. The staff perks up as we walk through the door – “oh… THERE you are, just the guy I was looking for…” They can’t start the meeting without us. Here are your plane tickets. Your hotel reservation. Your car rental. It’s who we are. We feel indispensable.
And when all that is taken away, most of us guys wander like puppy dogs sniffin’ around for a familiar scent. But we can’t find it. And everybody knows it - we are lost.
* * * * * * *
Jake was lost. He wasn’t insecure. He wasn’t afraid. He just had no idea what he wanted to do.
For two years he wandered. He tried computer courses. The Community College. He considered a church staff position. He checked in with a couple headhunters. He spent a month or two developing his resume – but the toughest part was the paragraph that was designed to tell the reader specifically what it was that he was seeking. He just didn’t know.
He did know this. He is crazy about his wife, Sally. His two boys bring his greatest delight. He grew closer to the God he talked about often, and now knew as a trusted friend. He loves his church. He saw his God touching lives. Energizing young people in wholesome healthy ways. He saw families growing close. He heard sermons that brought clarity, hope and direction. He entered into worship as musicians led in winsome, up-tempo styles. He found comfort and purpose when he opened that heavy book he carried – the Bible.
The church he attended had been a growing concern for over a dozen years. It was becoming a major force for good in his community. And the facility (or campus as they like to call it) already, was just too small.
That’s when his pastor started talking about the forty vacant acres just off the new boulevard through his growing hometown.
And that’s when Jake set Sally down for a talk.
* * * * * * *
I came home this week to a phone message from Jake. He said two things – “Ken, we’ve got a little fixin’ to do on one of my accounts. I’m getting’ dinged for a fee I shouldn’t have to pay. Second, I need to talk to you about a contribution we’ve decided to make to our church.”
He casually mentioned the amount. I can’t tell you how much… it’s none of your business. But I will tell you it is a substantial number. Six places this side of the decimal point.
I replayed the message just to be sure I heard it right.
* * * * * * *
It all seemed surprising and almost reckless to me. But I didn’t know the whole story. When Jake sat down with Sally, he said, we don’t know where my career is going. I think we should make a commitment to the capital campaign… because we believe in the ministry of our church and because we trust God with our future.”
Sally, reluctant at first, finally agreed.
By this time, Jake was negotiating possible employment with a former competitor. But shortly after Sally and Jake determined to give, the telephone rang.
It was Jake’s former boss. He said, “Jake, as you well know, we’ve got some real problems around here. I’ve checked with more than ten of our key people, and I’ve asked them what’s missing. Every last one of them said the same thing. They all told me – ‘We need Jake.’”
Then he said, “I want you in my office first thing in the morning. Between now and then, I want you to tell me what it’s gunna take to get you back on board with us.”
Jake has returned to the business he loves. Doing the work he does best. Making more money than when he left. When I heard the sound of his voice, I could hear the confidence and the enthusiasm and the focus.
My old friend Jake is back.
You may consider it coincidence. In your mind, the two may be entirely unrelated. But I see a direct link between the Hendersons’ willingness to give, and the reappearance of that job Jake loved the most.
Jake and Sally do, too.
* * * * * * *
It’s Monday morning again, and as a leader, you know that nothing in your world of work is certain. In this era of business at the speed of thought, change can blindside you in an instant.
Giving in order to get rarely works. But giving from the heart, towards a worthy cause, will pay rich dividends. You can count on it. You may not know what or how, but it will come back to you. In abundance.
Ask Jake. His story is true (I’ve changed his name and some of the details. You know why. This is a highly personal story.) He’s not lookin’ for recognition. He doesn’t think his decisions are anything unusual or special. He and his wife are simply committed to the right things. It’s called integrity. Wholeness.
And they are teaching me about generosity. About priorities. About trust. About faith.
And I hope in the telling, they are teaching you, too.
May Jake and Sally’s tribe increase.
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2000
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
LeaderFOCUS is a service of Good Stewardship Associates
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