I have a staff. We are all just people with jobs. We trade our time and talents and get paid for it.
I like to think I’m one of the crew, another employee with my own specific duties. I start the day and end the day, just like everyone else. I’m just one of the “guys”.
Except I’m not.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing special about me. I’d be the first to doubt my abilities, my importance, and my book smarts. I’m pretty run of the mill.
But I am the leader of my small staff. They look to me to make sure their time gets turned into money. They look to me to watch for those things that are best for them. While they do their jobs, they expect me to do mine- make their jobs easier, valuable, and safe.
They come to me when they are troubled, mad, or disappointed. They tell me of their victories, their families, and their desires. They share their goals, their dreams, and occasionally their deepest secrets.
I console when family members struggle, get sick, and pass away. I offer advice when life delivers hard blows. I encourage when life puts up hurdles.
I’ve laughed with them. I’ve sat through tears with them. I’ve spoken at funerals of a couple of them, and hugged their grieving mothers.
None of these things make me anything great or special.
Except what an honor it is to be someone who is trusted to be part of so many people’s special moments.
What an honor it is to be given a second chance to be a dad once again.