Last week, I learned a valuable lesson.
I control my character.
I can not control where it goes.
Two situations occurred that drained my positive energy. I came into the workplace as a champion reentering the ring to help people and slay giants, but I left the building with a soreness of spirit. I started the day with a plan. There was the morning talk. You know… the “you’re going to have a great day” mini-pep rally you conduct in the bathroom mirror or in your car. On some days, you would think I was about to play in the Super Bowl because in the world of education, everyday is a championship game. The esteem and futures of my students are at stake and I can positively or negatively affect them with every word and deed. Though I’m light-hearted in my profession, I don’t take that responsibility lightly.
While the details of the situations are irrelevant, the aftermath was that I was offended that an attribute of my character was in question. Questioning my integrity or loyalty is one of few things that can send me from 0 mph to 90 mph in 0.01 second. As I walked to my car, I heard the following in my heart:
Your character should stand on its own.
I literally paused in my tracks. My character has feet. It should stand when I’m not around. It can walk before me and plead my case through the mouths of others based upon what I exhibit daily. I can’t control what is said about me, especially in my absence. What I can control is my character. Am I showcasing sincerity, love, integrity, purpose, and respect? At the grocery store, at the gas station, toward my family… is my character loud enough to speak on my behalf? Does my character walk around others long after I’m gone? I know I make mistakes daily, but there is something to be said if the legs of our integrity are stronger than our mouths. If by chance you were unable to speak for yourself, could your character be on trial and win the case?
I realized last week that I can’t control what is said about me, but I can control what is said of me. Only those that know you can speak of you. Those that create a perception of you can talk about you. When individuals say something that doesn’t match the shoe size of your character, those that know of you can stand in your absence and speak the truth. I control the truth. When I am diligent, caring, honest, and authentic to one or many, I am strengthening that truth like it’s “leg day” at the gym. My character has feet, so I need to focus on its mileage, and not on the mouths of others.
Here’s a verse to help with your “workout” –
“Conduct yourselves with wisdom toward outsiders, making the most of the opportunity. Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person.” – Colossians 4:6 NASB
I know some days you (and I) want to sprinkle cayenne pepper on your words instead of salt, but let’s make a pact to have less of those moments, OK? OK. *smile*
Peace & Thanks for listening.
Nevertheless, I felt a strong connection to Knoxville because of one person. An unapologetic Shero that seemed to radiate from my TV screen each time I saw her. I could feel her fire and touch her tenacity. She was a lifter of those around her and you could see it in the eyes of her Lady Vols. For me, “The Summit” (as I called her in my mind), was a cataclysmic collision with athletic machismo. Her hand claps sent shockwaves into decades of prejudice and discrimination toward women and her stare would make any referee, coach, or player rethink their behavior.
”
Listening at the Speed of Life 