I am reading a really good book right now, Uncommon, by Tony Dungy. I have to admit, it is really a book for young men and fathers. I will give it Chris when I am done, because it primarily deals with how to be a godly young man, and that is Chris' area of expertise. But a lot of the book translates to anyone who has experienced trials and tribulations, and has attempted to do too many things at one time. So, it's a book for all of us.
Tony Dungy was a great success by all standards. A college graduate, a professional football player, an NFL coach, one of three men to ever win a Superbowl ring as a player and a coach, and the first African American coach to win a Superbowl. And then he stopped. He just retired. Right in his prime. He walked away from fame and fortune. Crazy.
Or Genius? He has a wife and kids and clearly devotes a lot of prayer, thought and time to fulfilling those roles as God wants him to do. He cares very passionately about a particular tragedy in our culture, the lost young man who is not grounded in family or faith. And he doesn't blather on in the book about how easy everything is for him, how he's a great success as a father and husband (although you come away thinking he surely is). One of his chapters begins, "Getting up in the morning is not for the faint of heart." Truer words were never spoken. It's even hard for famous people, apparently.
The book makes me appreciate my husband, Eric, very much. He has great character. He takes care of his family. He has no Superbowl ring or million dollar book deal. He's a really smart guy who could probably make a mint as a doctor if he chose that route. But instead he is a nurse who helps victims of trauma and devestating illness. At home, he does the small things so very well--doing the dishes when they are staring me down, walking the dog when I am pooped, making dinner for the family (he got the cooking genes, not me), being at every soccer game and karate class that he can.
Clergyman Phillips Brooks wrote that "character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones." In that sense, Eric is very like Tony Dungy, it seems to me. Doing the small things that build his character, and in the process, modeling for our daughters what a husband and father is supposed to be. He's a crazy genius, I guess.
The book makes me appreciate my husband, Eric, very much. He has great character. He takes care of his family. He has no Superbowl ring or million dollar book deal. He's a really smart guy who could probably make a mint as a doctor if he chose that route. But instead he is a nurse who helps victims of trauma and devestating illness. At home, he does the small things so very well--doing the dishes when they are staring me down, walking the dog when I am pooped, making dinner for the family (he got the cooking genes, not me), being at every soccer game and karate class that he can.
Clergyman Phillips Brooks wrote that "character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones." In that sense, Eric is very like Tony Dungy, it seems to me. Doing the small things that build his character, and in the process, modeling for our daughters what a husband and father is supposed to be. He's a crazy genius, I guess.
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