Forgiveness

Is there someone in your life you cannot and/or do not want to forgive?  If so, I implore you to read the following.

Bob Merritt, Senior Pastor at EagleBrook Church, sent out an e-mail this week telling us, his congregation, that this would be one of those “don’t miss” services.  He rarely sends out an e-mail like that, so when my wife and I woke up late this morning, we knew that skipping church was not an option.  We rushed to get our family ready and arrived about ten minutes into the service, hoping the “don’t miss” part had not passed us by.

With about twenty minutes to go in the service, nothing extra special had happened.  Pastor Bob was delivering a solid message on forgiveness, which he defined as choosing to let something go.  He told us that forgiveness is a decision, and is a process that can take time.  Pastor Bob explained that forgiveness doesn’t mean you forget what someone did or said to you, and you may even need to end your relationship what that person for a time, even if you have forgiven them.  Bob further discussed how forgiving someone is never what you want to do, and it does not benefit the other person as much as it benefits you – it sets you free and allows you to release your anger and sleep at night.

Although I had heard all of this from Pastor Bob before, they were still great reminders.  Then, the “can’t miss” part of the service began.  Pastor Bob showed a recent segment from CBS Evening News.

Back in 1993, 20 year old Laramiun Byrd was gunned down by 16 year old Oshea (pronounced O-shay) Israel.  I was also 20 years old when this happened, and feel like I vaguely remember the news of this shooting and the name Laramiun Byrd.

Early on, the news segment showed Laramiun’s mother, Mary Johnson, visiting her son’s grave.  Well, so much for a “don’t miss” service, it was obvious what was coming up.  Mary would say that she forgave Oshea, the boy who murdered her son.  Impressive, but I think our pastor oversold the importance of the service a bit. 

The video took a bit of a twist when stating that Oshea was released after 17 years in prison and now lived in the same North Minneapolis neighborhood as Mary.  Whoa, that’s kind of freaky.

Then, the video described just how close they lived.  Mary and Oshea were shown standing three feet apart, each in the front door of their adjacent apartment units.  Wow. 

Next came a few comments from Mary and Oshea, the most powerful being Mary’s comment that, “Unforgiveness is like cancer, it will eat you from the inside.”

Although the message was powerful, I was not sure why it was a “don’t miss.”  Heck, our pastor could have just sent us the internet link to the video.

The video ended and when the lights in the church came back on, three chairs and a table joined Pastor Bob on stage.  “Hmmmm,” I thought, “what is this all about?”  I was pretty sure Pastor Bob was going to invite a couple people on stage and either moderate a forgiveness between them, or himself grant or ask for forgiveness from them.

So much for that.  “Please help me welcome to the stage, Mary and Oshea.”  After I got over my initial shock of watching Mary and Oshea walk onto the stage and give Pastor Bob a big group-hug, I noticed that others were giving them a standing ovation, so I joined in.

Over the next 15 minutes, Pastor Bob asked Mary and Oshea a number of tough questions.  Mary was very passionate and eloquent in her answers.  Oshea was pretty reserved, but had many great one liners, including, “I was scared to meet Mary.  Have you ever met an angry mother?  I’d rather deal with prisoners.”

They told the story of how Mary brimmed with anger for 12 years before realizing she needed to forgive Oshea.  She first met Oshea in prison, then she threw him a party when he left prison.  The 35 people she invited to the party took turns telling Oshea how they could help his transition back into society.  These connections ultimately helped Oshea rent the apartment next to Mary.  She joked that being this close to Oshea came in handy this morning as she was able to simply pound on the wall and call to Oshea that it was time to go to church.

Near the end of the interview, Oshea talked about the day he first met Mary in prison.  He was terrified of the meeting, but by the end of it, he felt he needed to do something for Mary.  So, at the end of their meeting, he asked her if he could give her a hug.

He described how she wrapped herself around him, sobbing and wailing, while giving him a most powerful embrace.  Virtually the entire congregation was quite choked up at this point (well, at least I know my wife and I were), but Oshea let us off the hook when he quipped, “Here she is hugging me and going hysterical, and I’m looking around at the prison guards thinking, ‘why don’t one of you get this crazy lady off of me?’”

The point is this.  Mary could have hated Oshea for the rest of her life and withheld forgiveness, but what good would that have done her?  If Mary can forgive Oshea, the murderer of her only child, we can certainly forgive each other for much lesser wrongs.

Yeah, I guess pastor was right when he said it was a “don’t miss.”

http://www.cbsnews.com/2100-18563_162-20069849.html

Note:  The views and interpretations are my own.  To see the actual message, go to http://www.eaglebrookchurch.com/, the message should be online within a couple days.

Thoughts from a Tax Guy

Last week a student asked me a question that took me by surprise.  She asked me why I prepare tax returns for individuals.  Normally I am quite nimble on my feet when facing questions, but this one threw me off.  I told her I would have to get back to her with my answer.

Back in 2004 when I left the public accounting world and entered academia, I expanded into the tax return preparation business to make money.  Before long, however, I realized I couldn’t bring myself to charge rates high enough to earn a ton of money.  Coupling that with the fact that I earn higher rates consulting with large corporations makes it easy for me to focus my CPA practice mainly on corporate consulting, with just a bit of individual tax preparation thrown in.

Today, one of my favorite clients showed up 15 minutes early, as always.  He sat in his car until exactly 9AM and then knocked on my front door.  As we worked through his simple tax return and I entered in his W-2 earnings, I realized that I once made more money in a 6 week span than he did in all of 2011.  Yet, despite his low income, he still gave away over 10% of his earnings.

He is a very unique client.  He is somewhat socially awkward and has certain physical disabilities.  It took him nearly 5 minutes to write out a $20 check to pay me for my services (believe me when I say that I battle with whether I should charge him anything - but I question whether he would be insulted if I offered to do his returns for free).

This individual does not trust many people, and before I became his CPA several years ago, he prepared his tax returns himself.  In doing so, he made errors, costing himself hundreds of dollars in refunds. 

As I bid farewell to him at the end of his appointment, I reflected a bit: if I took the advice of many friends and stopped preparing tax returns, what would happen to this individual?  Who would help him out in this very personal area?  While there are certainly some qualified, caring, and affordable tax preparers out there (H&R Block NOT included), I question whether he would trust them sufficiently.

So, I can now answer my student’s question of why I prepare tax returns for individuals.  I am blessed (some of you would say cursed) in this area, and this is just one small way I can maybe help some people out.

The Theory of Coaching Football

Along with 62 other students, I am currently enrolled in the most popular course at Saint John’s: The Theory of Coaching Football.  Today, during my most busy time of the year, I took off work almost the entire day to attend class and to spend time with the instructor of the course.  Joining me were two friends and fellow alumni of Saint John’s whom I invited to attend class with me.

What would it feel like to know that three busy people took off work for a day just to hear you speak and to talk with you?  Would it feel honoring and would it feel like you must be doing something right?

Here is the kicker: there are not just three people interested in spending time with this instructor.  Had I cast my invitation more broadly, hundreds of people would have joined me in the instructor’s classroom today.

How do you get to the point where so many people wish to spend time with you?  I would love to give you that answer in this blog entry, but it would take a couple hundred pages.  I think I will save it for the book.

Simply put, my research has been going better than expected, and I cannot wait for my sabbatical this fall.  There is a story that needs to be told, and I am honored and excited to have the opportunity to tell it.

The Popcorn Machine Debacle

Today was kind of a rough day.  I had to apologize to my department chair for being rude to her in a meeting.  I had to apologize to another professor for being rude on a discussion board.  I had to apologize to three other professors for welcoming them with a bunch of popcorn crumbs on the floor from my use of the department popcorn machine last night (truly, I believed the custodians vacuumed every night).

At times like these, I am grateful that I have a colleague who will speak candidly to me.  If he has not already seen it first hand, I tell him about the mess I have gotten into and he advises me on how to respond.  Sometimes, he tells me I am being too hard on myself, and sometimes he tells me I am being too hard on others.  Regardless, he speaks the truth to me.

One of the better decisions I made with respect to this relationship was to invite him to critique me.  He knows he is free to criticize my actions, and while I will not always agree with his assessment, I will respect it.

Do you have someone like that in your corner?  If not, do you need to extend that invitation?

Lunch with Charlie

As professors, we receive evaluations from our students at the end of each semester.  Some evaluations are glowing, some are critical, and once in awhile they sound a little bit like this, “You gave us so much work in this class that my girlfriend dumped me because I was not spending any time with her.  If I ever see you on the street, I am going to kick your a**!”

That was not an evaluation I received, rather it was received by my favorite professor of all time, Charlie.

Back in the spring of 2001, I was working on my Master’s in Business Taxation degree (sexy, I know) from the University of Minnesota.  I enrolled in Charlie’s course and two weeks before it began, I received a thick packet in the mail from him.  It contained a bunch of pre-reading, a couple lengthy case study assignments, and a letter.  In the letter, Charlie told his prospective students that the course would be a tremendous amount of work, and if we didn’t have time to invest in the course now, we should take it later.  Facing a busy time at work, I promptly dropped the course.

Unfortunately (or so I thought at the time), this was a required course, so I enrolled again in the spring of 2003 and received the same darn packet and warning letter.  I put a half-hearted effort into the pre-reading and case studies.

I met Charlie at 9:02 on a Saturday morning.  Class started at 9, but I couldn’t be bothered to show up on time, especially as I did not sign up for a Saturday morning course.  It was supposed to meet on Wednesday evenings, but we had to switch the first day to Saturday morning to accommodate Charlie’s schedule (I later learned the conflict arose as the University asked him as a top professor to fly to Austria to teach a course at a partner-university there).

The open seats were on the far side of the room, so I sauntered through the front to claim my spot.  Charlie was going through the first day monotony of reviewing the syllabus, so I joined many other students in daydreaming.  I quickly woke up when Charlie said, “I’ll start class promptly at 5:30 every day, and I understand that sometimes you may be late.  If that is the case please just be respectful and walk through the back of the room to avoid disrupting the class.”  Message delivered, point taken.

As class progressed that first day, my attitude toward Charlie warmed as I noticed his intelligence, passion, quick-wit, and engaging teaching style.  Then I was quickly humbled when it came time to review our case studies, and I found out I hadn’t even made a half-hearted attempt at the case studies, I quarter-hearted it at best.  He was very quick to tell students when their logic was incomplete but praised students who had really prepared for class.

At the start of the next class (which I showed up to on time, sitting front and center), Charlie gave his 50 students back detailed grades on our day one case studies and my scores were weak.  I had put forth a much stronger effort on day two’s case studies but again found that I needed to do even more, as reflected in my errors during class discussion and in the grades I received.  I began to realize that I was not thinking critically enough.

As the class periods ticked by, I found my performance, critical thinking, and learning greatly increasing in the course.  It reached the point where I was putting forth a very strong effort, receiving A’s on all my work, but still never nailing the assignments.  I absolutely loved being able to earn high marks and make strong contributions to discussion, while still learning an immense amount during class.  It kind of became a game for me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to achieve the correct answer, but testing myself to see how close I could come.

In my eight years of teaching, I have taught about 1,700 individual class periods.  In that time, I feel I have had one perfect class period, back in the fall of 2008.  In advance of that class, I had students work very hard on a case study which would be graded.  We then spent the entire class period discussing the solution to the case study.  The students who worked the hardest and who thought the most critically were able to make strong contributions to class discussion and received A’s.  However, the case study was so complex that they were not able to achieve the correct answer and they still learned a considerable amount during the class.

I also recall a class period when Charlie introduced us to a difficult problem and very quickly (much too quickly it seemed at the time) showed us how to reach the solution.  At the end of class, he handed us the final solution, but not the steps on how to reach it.  Figuring out the steps would be critical in performing well on our final project.  I remember working for several hours over the following days trying to figure out how to reach Charlie’s solution.  When I finally nailed it, I was elated, and he praised the way I incorporated those steps into the final project.

These steps are probably the most important technical skills I use to this day in my consulting practice.  But, here is the kicker.  Had Charlie simply given us the steps to the solution, it would have saved me a few hours at the time.  However, I would not have learned that skill in the same way and would not be able to differentiate my consulting practice the way that I do.

In short, Charlie made me work harder and think more critically than I ever thought I could, and when I did , he rewarded me.  No, the “A” I received in his class was not my reward, the skills I learned and confidence I gained were.

Yesterday, I met Charlie for a long lunch (it was probably the longest lunch I have ever had that did not involve frosty beverages).  I had not seen him in nine years and it was the first time I really chatted with him.  It took a little bit to get over the awe of being in the presence of my favorite professor, but once I did, it was fantastic to connect as peers. 

Thanks, Charlie.

A comeback for the ages

Despite only attending a handful of professional sporting events each year, I have been fortunate enough to see many memorable events in the history of Minnesota and national sports.  I was there in 1983 when the Metrodome roof ripped during a thunderstorm and poured in water during a Twins game, in 1991 when the Twins won Game 7 of the World Series, in 1997 when Dennis Rodman kicked a cameraman in the groin in, in 2001 when a riot broke out after an inter-city soccer derby in Seville, Spain, in 2004 when Jeff Gordon’s controversial win over Dale Earnhardt Jr. at Talladega resulted in fans littering the track with beer cans and caused NASCAR to make a major rule change, in 2008 when Adrian Peterson set the record for most rushing yards in an NFL game, and in 2010 when Brett Favre won his first home game as a Viking by throwing a last second touchdown pass.

But none of those compares to the sporting event I witnessed today.

I first met Jay back in 2001, when he was seven years old.  We moved into a neighborhood where a dozen or more kids would routinely play street hockey.  The other kids were generally four years older than Jay.  Although he was decent-size for his age, the age difference made him the runt of the group.  As a result, the only way he survived was by developing tremendous hand eye coordination, passing ability, and a killer wrist shot.  Beyond hockey, I was always very impressed with Jay.  He always was very polite and waved to me when I interrupted his hockey game with my car.  After my son was born, Jay took a special interest in him.  He was soft spoken and humble.

Jay began playing varsity hockey as a freshman at Johnson High School; a somewhat rough high school on the east side of St. Paul.  Many outsiders didn’t even know that Johnson still had a hockey team.

Jay’s sophomore year was derailed by a serious back injury.  He rebounded in time to have a stellar junior year.  By the time his senior year rolled around, the runt had grown to nearly 6 and a half feet tall and 230 pounds.  While he developed into a monster, the skills he learned from those days as the runt of the street hockey games never eroded.  So as a senior, he was not only the biggest player on the ice, but also the most skilled.  That combination resulted in 42 goals scored in his first 25 games of the year, and the attention of many pro scouts.  Immediately after his final high school game, Jay will be leaving to beginning playing for the Fargo Force in the USHL (aka Juniors).

I had never seen Jay play an actual hockey game, and when I heard that Johnson was starting the playoffs and facing a likely season ending loss against the superior White Bear Lake squad, I decided to attend the game.

While my ten year old son missed most of the action as he was consumed with his handheld video game, my eight year old daughter was surprisingly attentive.  To make it easier on her, we kept referring to the neighbor kid as Big Jay so that she would be reminded to look for the biggest dude on the ice and cheer for him. 

The first period was quite depressing. The Bears took a 3-0 lead, including a disastrous mistake by Johnson’s goalie.  Well, what do you expect from an 8^th grader?  Yep, that’s correct; an NHL prospect is trying to win a game in which he has a 13 year old kid in the nets.  Big Jay’s only real impact in the first period was deflecting a White Bear slapshot, which resulted in the Bears’ second goal.

Johnson didn’t gain any ground in the second period, but at least it was entertaining.  White Bear scored early, but then Johnson answered.  Good, at least they won’t get shutdown in the final game of their season.  In this second period, it seemed that most of the players’ efforts were spent trying to deliver bone-crushing checks.  Big Jay himself got into the action, leveling a Bear along the boards and being retaliated against with a couple slashes.  The Johnson faithful empathized with the referee’s decision not to call a penalty for those slashes, indicating it must be hard to control a game when they lost their contact lenses on the ice.  I basically was most entertained during this period by explaining hockey to my daughter and trying to decide if a fight would break out.

The first several minutes of the third period were awful.  White Bear scored again to make it 5-1, and Johnson was playing a much uninspired game.  I was in a bit of disbelief that no one, not even Big Jay, was taking much of a leadership role.  In fact, Big Jay would spend much of his off shifts sitting on the bench while his teammates stood attentively.  I’ll admit that I questioned spending $20 ($23.75 including the hot dog and Swedish Fish for my kids) to watch an overmatched and uninspired team get its butt kicked.

But, something began to change with about ten minutes left in the game.  Johnson’s fans, strong throughout the game, really started to encourage their players.  They didn’t yell at them for a lack of execution or hustle; rather they just yelled encouraging words, reminding them that it was time to pick it up.

The next five minutes started to get pretty fun.  Johnson started to play with desperation and Big Jay himself seemed to find an extra gear.  Johnson generated many scoring opportunities but they just couldn’t break through.

Then, staring at the possibility of less than five minutes left in his high school career, Big Jay decided that enough was enough. 

He got the puck in the corner and with two Bears pulling him down to the ground, Big Jay passed the puck between his legs and to teammate Bryan in front of the net.  It was a beautiful pass and Bryan flicked it toward the net.  The goalie made a beautiful save, but as two Bears lie on top of Big Jay in the corner, Bryan slammed home the rebound   5-2 White Bear.

I exhaled.  At least the boys are going to be able to hold their heads high after the certain loss, knowing they went down trying.

A minute later, the Bears were called for a penalty and Big Jay’s line mate Jake went end to end, split the two defenders like he was a steak knife and they were butter, and scored Johnson’s second goal in two minutes.  5-3  White Bear.  That goal seemed to wake up everyone, as it proved momentum had truly shifted.

On the same shift, a mere 30 seconds later, Big Jay got the puck on the wing.  He skated hard toward the goalie, faked a shot to the goalie’s left side, and then glided all the way to the other side, waiting until the goalie collapsed before snapping the puck above the helpless goalie and into the net.  5-4 White Bear.

Big Jay glided back toward the bench with one leg forward in a low crouch, pumping his fist and exciting everyone on the visitors’ side with the exception of my kids, who were largely confused by what was happening.

Now a potential problem was that as on fire as Big Jay and his wingers were, they couldn’t play every minute.  In fact, Johnson’s coach continued to rotate three lines, although the second and third lines were certainly seeing their shifts considerably shortened.  However, these players did what they needed to do.  They kept the Bears from scoring again, giving Big Jay a chance to skate one last time.

With a bit more than a minute to go in the game, Big Jay stepped onto the ice for what would perhaps be the final shift of his high school career.

He got the puck on the right wing charged hard toward the net, drawing the defense and goalie toward him.  He flicked the puck right onto the waiting stick of Bryan who slammed it home.  5-5.  Tie game. 

Bryan was mobbed by the other four Johnson skaters on the ice.  As they skated back to the bench, Big Jay raised his stick above his head and pumped it a few times, firing up the raucous crowd even further. 

Shortly thereafter, the horn sounded ending the 3^rd period and the beginning sudden death overtime.  My kids were a bit disturbed in thinking that the losers would be sacrificed, but I assured them it was just a saying.

The Johnson coach gave his team some final instructions during the short break before overtime began, and right before they took the ice, Big Jay pulled the entire squad together.  I don’t know what he said, but it made all of his teammates yell and cheer like warriors about to charge the enemy’s front lines.  So, I assume whatever he said was good. 

But, just as quickly as the underdog had hope, the Bears ripped it away.  A Bear streaked down the left wing and unleashed a slapshot from just inside the blue line.  Some may say the goalie misplayed the shot and some may say the velocity of the shot left the goalie no chance, but regardless…the shot found the back of the net.  White Bear advanced, and the underdog’s season was over.

Actually, that last paragraph did not happen in the Johnson vs. White Bear game. It happened twenty-one years ago almost to the day.  I sat in that same arena in roughly the same spot.  My hockey playing Stillwater Pony classmates were battling the heavily favored White Bear Lake Bears, led by future NHL player Brian Bonin.  The Ponies battled back from an early deficit and tied up the Bears with a goal in the last minute of regulation, forcing overtime.  As hard as hearts were pumping for us hopeful Pony fans, they were immediately ripped out when Bonin streaked down the left wing unleashed a slapshot from just inside the blue line.

This game was similar.  A Bear did streak down the left wing and unleash a slapshot.  8^th grade goalie Sam Moberg waited to face that shot.  I remember when I was an 8^th grader.  I was scared when we played the White Bear football 8^th graders, as they had evil nicknames like “Dr. Death” and “The Terminator” written on their helmets.  I am sure that facing off against 12^th graders would have been enough to make me soil my jockstrap.

Moberg blocked the shot.

Shortly thereafter, Big Jay got the puck on a two on one breakaway and let fly with the potential game-winning shot.  But again, no!  Great save by the White Bear goalie.  Off his facemask.  Which was now broken by the impact of the shot.

In fact, Big Jay’s first two shifts of overtime came up empty.  However, the Bears were also coming up empty as Johnson’s second and third lines were playing their hearts out in slowing the Bears attack.  And Moberg was in a zone.

On his third shift, Jay got the puck in the corner and passed it to the point.  A defenseman took a shot, and the goalie easily blocked it…right back to Big Jay in the corner.  He took two strides toward the net, being forced beneath the end line by the Bear defense.  At the last second, Jay let it fly…a wrist shot of course.  Despite the impossible angle, there was never really any doubt where the puck would end up.

The Johnson fans exploded in exaltation.  Big Jay climbed the boards to acknowledge the Johnson fans and his teammates mobbed him.  I hugged Big Jay’s mom, high-fived his girlfriend (I was tempted to hug her but that may have been weird), and shook his dad’s hand.   I had come to the game expecting to be a passive observer, yet I found myself cheering as loud as anyone. 

Four points in the final 10 minutes of the game.  To put that in perspective, the best hockey player ever, Wayne Gretzky, averaged two points per 60 minute game in his NHL career.

The Bears knelt on the ice, staring in disbelief at the celebration going on.  While the rest of his Johnson teammates mobbed each other at center ice, one player knelt by himself with his helmet off, completely spent.  Big Jay had been getting longer shifts all game, especially late, and had nothing left in his tank.  He left it all on the ice.

Well done, Big Jay.

Author’s Note:  While Big Jay certainly poured it on at the end of the game, he could not do it alone and this awesome victory would not have been possible without the help of many others.  Jake and Bryan, you were awesome.  Moberg, your development throughout the game was incredible to watch.  Johnson coaches, your disciplined style of coaching kept your team very fresh for the end of the game and prevented them from melting down when things were not looking good.  And Johnson fans…you never got down on your players.  You stayed positive.  There were a few times you got down on the referees (and frightened my daughter in the process), but who could blame you, they were missing their contact lenses.

Credit to mnhockeyprospects.com for the picture.

Going all out for those you love

Today was supposed to be different.  Jane should be celebrating her mom’s 70^th birthday on the beaches of Mexico.  Instead, they are together at Jane’s condo in Minneapolis.  Recently, Jane’s mom was diagnosed with a serious medical condition.  She underwent surgery, but the long-term outlook is fair at best.  Jane’s mom cannot spend her 70^th birthday on the beaches of Mexico, and in fact she can’t even spend the day in her own home, as it is too far away from her hospital.

Jane is doing her best to make the day as sweet as possible for her mother. She was chatting with her mom a little bit ago and I heard her end the call by saying, “I love you, mom.”  Jane is leaving work at a reasonable time so that they may share a special dinner together.  Her mother, while not happy to be in Minnesota in lieu of Mexico, is looking forward to spending time with her daughter.

What Jane’s mom does not know, is that after dinner, she is going to receive a present which will blow her away.  Even while reeling with the news of her mother’s illness and adapting her condo into a temporary living space for her new guest, Jane had the presence to contact about thirty of her mom’s friends and ask them to send birthday wishes.  Jane asked that the birthday wishes be sent to her, not her mom.  She also asked those thirty people to forward her request on to other friends.

Jane has accumulated those birthday wishes in a box, and this evening, Jane will present her mom with that box.  The box is full of more than two hundred cards, letters, and e-mails of wishing a happy birthday and a speedy recovery.  I have never met Jane’s mom, but I wish that I could be there tonight, just to see the look on her face when she opens the box.

Jane went all out for her mom, and it will most certainly result in one of the most precious evenings of both of their lives.

I thought back on my own life, and realized that I have gone all out for someone exactly once.  For that, I should feel embarrassed and saddened, but I do not.  Instead, I am inspired to more frequently go all out for those I love.

Tonight, I am inspired by Jane.