Archive for September, 2009

“That darn key broke off in the lock.  Boy, they just don’t make them like they used to.”

I heard that sentiment on several occasions from Don.  He was the custodian in the church where I grew up.  Don was a contentious old cuss.  He lived in the attic of the early 20th century classical style church building in downtown Portland with beautiful stained glass windows and lots of hidden spaces just right for playing sardines.  Because he lived there, Don thought the entire building belonged to him.  Those of us who attended church there (especially us youth) were just a nuisance.  It was obvious whenever we saw him that he couldn’t wait for us to leave so he could have his space all to himself. He was the king.  The church was his castle.

I remember a wedding that Don attended in his coveralls sporting his trademark disheveled hair and a stained shirt.  The bride’s father, a church pillar, asked Don to move the flowers from the sanctuary to the reception immediately following the service.  At the end of the service, while all heads were bowed in the nuptual blessing prayer, Don marched down the aisle and grabbed the flowers.  He waited for the bridal kiss and the pronouncement, then promptly followed the wedding party down the aisle to the reception.  We could hardly contain our laughs, knowing that if we had let them out there would be heck to pay. Afterall, this was Don.  Church was his life and being a custodian was his vocation.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to have a vocation — a life calling.  As much of a sour-puss as Don was, I think I learned a lot from him about what it means to live one’s life authentically.

Don knew who he was and what he wanted out of life.  He was a caretaker.  He was a church custodian.  He worked hard behind the scenes to keep the building running smoothly and looking decent.  He was called to that vocation early in life, and literally died on the job.  I worked along side Don on summer vacation throughout High School and College, so I got to see a side of him that others didn’t. Don knew his place and was comfortable giving of himself to taking care of the church.

Sometimes I wish I had the kind of clarity of self-understanding that Don had. I have changed careers about 4 times in my life . . . so far. I’m not certain what the next chapter  of my career will look like, but I hope I have the courage to follow my vocational calling — like Don did.

How about you?  When you think of your own career path and your own vocation, what comes to mind? I hope you have the courage to live out your vocational calling as Don did.

Of course, Don was one-of-a-kind, and they don’t make them like they used to.

Napolean Hill discusses lessons he learned from Andrew Carnegie nearly 100 years ago. What is YOUR potential?