About 6 years ago I was at a retreat listening to a pastor speak about our identity in Christ. He handed out blank name tags and asked us to fill them in, but NOT with our real names, but rather a name someone else called us or a false identity that we assumed. Perhaps a name that we wrestled with that caused some shame, but really wasn’t true. Once we had that name, we were to stick it on our lapel and wear it.

I looked around the room and saw some men writing a few common themes down on their name tags; many guys wrote down “failure” because of their situation or frustration with their job or career path that they ended up on… or the fact that they suffered through a difficult or broken marriage; some wrote “unworthy” because of their inability to live up to the expectations heaped on to them by people in their lives…or wrote “unlovable” due to the brokenness of their relationships with their families.

Now, I am the King Of Rationalization, and have an unbelievable ability to maintain my confidence (blame everyone else, at all cost) and couldn’t bear to write down “failure” or “unworthy” or “unlovable.” Because frankly, at that moment, I didn’t see any of my own failures: I believed I was worthy, and I loved myself too much to write down “unlovable”. I thought “Huh, I guess this exercise isn’t really going to drum something very profound up within me…” So while the other men began to get stirred up, my mind wandered as the music played in the background, until of course I remembered a name my Father called me when he was angry with me. It had been easily 30 years since he called me that name, and probably 29 since I even remembered it. But apparently, I never forgot it. And somewhere deep down, hearing the memory of his voice call me that name again, REALLY began to bother me. My hands were trembling as I wrote down this name, and I reluctantly affixed it to my lapel. The emotions were swirling in my head. I love my Dad. We were always very close and still are to this day. My Dad was my hero growing up. But why would he call me that hurtful name again and again? What was he thinking?

At that time, I was 39 years old, and suddenly I am recalling a repressed memory of a hurtful name my Dad called me, and I am pissed, flustered, and moved to tears? I could barely talk. How could this name—this one little word– own me like this? Well as part of the exercise, another man walked over to me, tore off the label, crumpled it up and let me know that the name my father had called me was not who I was. It was just a word. And in that moment, I was able to let go of that memory and forgive my Father. He had no idea of the power of his words. And if I brought this to his attention, he’d be crushed. In other words, my words would do to him, what his had done to me.

Unfortunately it was this realization that made things worse, not better– because I was instantly overcome with guilt and shame as I thought about what my 4 and 5 year-old sons were going to be crying over in 30 years because of a stupid name I already called them. I mean, what baggage had I saddled them with already simply because of the words I said?

What was harder was perhaps the fact that I had never even thought about the impact I was having with the words I was using. The words that I threw around in frustration or anger. The words directed at my wife, my kids, my family or friends. Yet here I sat in a room full of grown men, weeping; a room full of proof that words carry a very significant weight with them. A weight that leaves an imprint years, even decades after they have been said.

Wondering what impact our words are having? Come join us this Wednesday as we begin our new series “The Weight of Words”

Invest, and invite,

pat

Pat Mancuso
patmancuso@mac.com
(703) 401-8302
FUEL
See our Blog at: https://menoffuel.com/blog

“It’s what you need to keep you going…”

Our mission is to create a comfortable, relevant and honest environment where men can explore and discuss aspects of life, purpose and faith.

We accomplish our mission by reviewing pertinent issues in men’s lives, examining them through relevant biblical principles, followed by a time of discussion with other men.

Wednesday mornings, September through May…and beyond
6:30 AM to 7:30 AM @ Hidden Creek Country Club, Reston, VA.

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Back in 95 while I was working at MCI, my boss in order to reward our team for a successful quarter took the team to Annapolis MD for lunch. The idea of course was to leave the office early for lunch, spend the day with the team in Annapolis and then head home. In other words it was a day off disguised as a team lunch.

So on the day of the event I ride up with a buddy of mine, and as we walk through the doors another rep on the team announces our arrival to the entire restaurant/bar, and runs across the room to greet us in a “man hug”. Apparently this guy caught the early bus, because he was hammered, and it was only 12:15. He must have been there when they opened, and to be honest he showed no signs of slowing down, as our arrival apparently needed to be celebrated with a round of shots.

Not to be labeled a sprinter (starts out fast and fades) he continued this pace through lunch until my boss told the waitress that she was not to bring him any more alcohol. Remember this was at MCI in 95, meaning you have to be going pretty hard to have your boss cut you off. Well this guys was in no way going to let our boss stop the party train he was on, so when he wanted a drink, this rep would get up go to another room, order a drink and return.

By 2:00 it was so uncomfortable that everyone just wanted the event to end, so we all split up and went our separate ways……..or so I thought. Ends up “Party guy” thought it would be a good time to let a female co-worker know just how attracted he was to her, by initiating a make-out session in the streets of Annapolis. Ends up this girl didn’t share the same feelings that party guy had for her. What they did share was the same HR manager, who was brought up to speed on what had transpired before COB that day. Needless to say, our next team event had one less person in attendance, as “Party guy” was fired the next day.

Ever seen that? Ever seen someone implode their career in a second? How about their family or marriage? Have you ever seen someone do something that instantly changes the direction of their lives and the lives of those around them?

I bet we all have, because those are so easy to see. But what about the guy who over the course of years or decades lets his life disintegrate? I think those are harder to see, because they happen so gradually. So gradually in fact that perhaps we don’t even see it happening in our own lives.

It that’s true I bet God might weigh in on what could keep that from happening.

Come on out tomorrow as John Woodall presents “The Integrated Man”

D.R.

A few years ago my wife and I took a trip out to Vegas. It was a pilgrimage if you will, as Vegas is one of the few locations globally that hosts several permanent Cirque Du Soleil shows.  Yes, it’s true, my wife and I went to Vegas to see Cirque Du Soleil.  We are Cirque heads, or Cirquees, or whatever you call people that are obsessed with an adult circus that charges an arm and a leg to see a show. Let it be known that we didn’t go to see just any show, we went to see O.  The show of all shows, The Cirques of all Cirques.

Sure, we also saw Mystere (another Cirque Du Soleil show) while we were out there, but that was to be the appetizer to the sensory buffet known only as “O”.

So the day of the show arrives and we have to go stand in line at the Bellagio to obtain these tickets that we had reserved weeks in advance. The line was longer than I had expected but with three people working the counter, we were moving through the line at a pretty good clip.  With only two people left in front of me the anticipation of receiving my tickets was almost more than I could stand.  “I can help you over here, sir”  I could hear one of the ladies say to the first person in line, leaving only one person standing between me and the mecca of Cirque fanatics.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t seem to have your reservation on file,” I can hear the lady say to the guy that had just moved over to be helped.  “Well, I made it,”  He replied in a tone and volume that let everyone know that his plans to see O were not going to be thwarted by some silly reservation system.  “Next in line please,” another lady working behind the counter said, and as the lady in front of me moved toward the desk, I now stood next in line to be helped.  “I told you I made the reservation.  HERE, this is the credit card I used!” yelled the guy with no reservation number – and apparently no seats.

“Next in line,” said the lady at the counter and as I stepped up to the open spot next to Mr. “No Seats” I give the lady my name, and the credit card I used to make the reservation.

“Well I made the reservation,” Mr. No Seats says to the woman behind the counter again, this time at a volume bordering on yelling.  He is so loud, in fact, I almost can’t hear the lady behind the counter tell me she can’t find any tickets listed under my name.

“Excuse me?” I say, as I suddenly start to feel sympathetic for the guy next to me at the counter who at this point seems ready to start taking hostages. “I don’t see any reservations under your name or made with this credit card,”  she says to me, probably still wondering if I am going to react like the guy next to me, who by the way is now demanding to speak to a manager.  “Well, I made them,” I say with more of a tone of defeat than demand, to which she replies “I’m sorry,” she says. “We don’t have anything in the system under your name.”

So there I stood at the ticket desk in the Bellagio hotel in Vegas with two options. I could attempt to take control of the situation and start acting like the guy next to me or accept the fact that the show was “sold out” and they didn’t have my reservation in the system.  I can tell you what I wanted to do.  However, I am happy to report that instead of reading this girl the riot act I said “Well… it’s not your fault.”  As I prepared to leave the ticket counter in defeat, the lady said “Give me one second sir, I want to go check something with my manager.”  So she walks behind the girl that is still being yelled at by Mr. No Seats and disappears through a door only to return a few moments later with an envelope in hand.

“Thank you for waiting sir, it seems as if my manager was able to release these tickets for you.  I do apologize for the misunderstanding and I hope you enjoy the show,” she said in a whisper, perhaps to ensure that the guy next to me didn’t hear what just happened.  Then she handed me the envelope with two tickets to see O that night.  If that wasn’t enough, the seats she gave us were in the 5th row and were dead center stage, far better than the tickets that I had reserved or should I say the tickets I thought I reserved.

I tell that story because as we prepare for our two week series “Waiting on God”, we often think that when God doesn’t respond to us right away or give us exactly what we want, that somehow He’s shortchanging us.  We act like that guy next to me in line waiting to get Cirque tickets.  We feel that we need to get involved, insert ourselves into the process, we need to take charge of the situation, we need to make sure things work out the way we want them to.  In short we would rather play God than wait on Him.

What if God wanted us to wait on Him, not because He was trying to shortchange us, but because His plans were far greater than anything we could even imagine? From landing the big deal to getting diagnosed with cancer, maybe God is asking us to wait on Him because He is at work in the middle of all of our situations working out results far greater than ones we could ever produce on our own.

If you can wait until Wednesday we will talk more about it then. Invite a friend out as we start our new two weeks series “Waiting on God”…

D.R.

In 1999, I went to see the movie The Sixth Sense. It was the big breakout movie for the new director M. Night Shyamalan.  Unfortunately it was one of the last good movies he made. (Unbreakable was the other.  Believe me when I say it has been all downhill since then.) The Sixth Sense was about a young boy who spoke to the spirits of people that didn’t know they were dead.  After a few terrifying events, he starts meeting with a child psychologist, played by Bruce Willis.

The movie was a huge hit and there was a huge buzz about the movie and this big ‘twist’ that happens during the movie. After a few weeks of constant buzz I make my way to Reston Multiplex, and about halfway through this movie, after my box of Milk Duds and the large vat of popcorn, and I start thinking about what this ‘twist’ could be.  So I start running all of these scenarios through my head, and all of the sudden it hits me… The child psychologist is dead and doesn’t know it.  I apologize if this ruined the ending for you, but it’s been 12 years so perhaps this could be the sign that you need to get out more.  (On a separate but related note, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father.)

Back to the movie theater… So there I was now halfway through this movie and I am now viewing this movie in a completely different way than I had watched the first half.  I saw things as they were, not as the director wanted me to believe they were.  Think about it: the buzz around this movie was this huge twist.  The director was intentionally allowing the viewers to believe something that wasn’t true, and for the first half of the movie I just went along with it.  It wasn’t until I actually questioned what I believed about the movie, that I started to believe something else.  When my belief changed, so did the way I viewed the movie.

I bring all this up because when thinking about my experience in that theater, I realize that for the first half I had just accepted, without question, what the director wanted me to believe.  As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until I started questioning what the director wanted me to believe that I actually came to believe something completely different.  At that point, I was finally able to see what was actually happening.

What if that were true outside of our local multiplex as well? If it is, what importance would that put on what we believe?  The good news is, if what we believe is that important, I have to believe God might have weighed in on the topic.

I believe we will discuss this on Wednesday.

Invest and Invite,

D.R.

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