I Cannot Let Them Down

"Let each of you esteem and look upon and be concerned for not [merely] his own interests, but also each for the interests of others." - Philippians 2:4 AMP

"Only those who have learned the power of sincere and selfless contribution experience life's deepest joy: true fulfillment." - Tony Robbins

Georgia State University football coach Bill Curry speaks of a concept called "magnanimitas" (Latin for "greatness of spirit"), where we increase our capacity for good exponentially as we give of ourselves to a cause greater than ourselves.

He spoke about how easy it would have been to give up during a game, how he just didn't feel like smashing his face into Dick Butkus for the 75th time. It would have been easier to quit on his assignments, miss a few blocks, walk off the field at the end of the game, suck on some oxygen and call it a day, he said.  But he didn't quit. Why? What motivated him to keep going when he felt like giving up? The money? No. The Super Bowl ring? No. The coach's fiery pep talk? No, none of these things kept him from quitting. He didn't quit because he looked at his teammates. He saw how they were willing to do more than they thought they could do to help the team win; how could he do any less? He looked at each one of them and said within himself:

"I cannot let him down..."

Now I didn't play football like Bill Curry did, but I do understand what he is saying. I have two reasons, two very personal, very important reasons to echo Coach Curry's words. I met my first reason on November 16, 1997 at 3:20 pm. I met my second reason on September 7, 2003 at 10:39 am. Looking into my children's faces for the first time, seeing their curious eyes stare into my own, wondering what was going on, I knew without a doubt I would do anything I possibly could to make sure they were taken care of, not just the physical comforts like food and shelter, but the caretaking of their identities, their sense of self-esteem, of self-worth, of value. I knew it was my assignment to take the lead block for each of them to ensure they are able to reach whatever goals they set in life, and failure to block for them, to clear a path that allows them to run for daylight, is not, nor will ever be an option.

So if that means I have to do what seems unusual, unpopular, or unreasonable to others for the sake of my children to help them become successful, so be it. If that means I have to endure criticism from people who don't why I do the things I do, fine. I have no problem turning my back on people who have nothing better to say about what I do than:

"If I were you I wouldn't do that..." or "It doesn't take all that..." or, "I don't understand, what you're doing just doesn't make any sense..."

You see, if it was just about me I would quit, I would give up. After all the doubters and dream thieves will tell you all day long that it's okay to give up the fight, even reasonable. But I choose to be unreasonable because it isn't all about me, just like it isn't all about you. We need to have someone in our lives more important than ourselves who drives us, spurs us, compels us to do more than we believed ourselves capable. We need them to tug at our hearts, to believe in us, count on us and encourage us to be our best selves at all times. And even if we do stumble and fall at times they look at us in the midst of our weakness, beyond our faults and our flaws, and continue to see the best within us despite any evidence that may suggest otherwise.

These are the ones whose expectations we live up to, the ones whose opinion matters more to us than anyone else's. They inspire us to do more than we thought we could do, to become more than we thought we could ever be.  It is their eyes which look to us, expecting us go before them to straighten the path, point the way, lead the way, be their guide. As we see them and they see us, the still small voice echoes deep within our hearts:

I cannot let them down...

Can you..?