There is incredible beauty and generosity and kindness in our immediate environment if we have the eyes to see it and the courage to embrace it and the willingness to be a part of it. 

Yes, there are shootings and there are liars and thieves all of which (and whom) cause distress and grief and much more, but goodness and beauty far outweighs the powers of all that seeks to ruin. 

All people are beautiful. 

There’s gold in everyone, even in those who seek to do us harm.

I myself have been misguided for so many years and harshly judged others many times I can hardly expect others to possess “less misguideness” than I “enjoyed.” 

Some years ago I met a young man – at the request of his church – who’d committed a double murder.  

After an hour or two once the trust barriers were broken and, despite the steel bars that separated us, I saw his beauty.

I saw it every time we met. 

No, I don’t think I lost sight of his dastardly and brutal acts or of the pain he’d inflicted on so many, but, I did see his humanity. 

I did encounter his beauty, the handprint of a loving God in his life.

It’s there, dig deep into your own magnificence and you’ll see it in others, all others.

Greet all people with a smile, even if you’re faking it. It’s not insincerity. It’s being polite. It’s refusing to infect others with your inner discontent. Get rid of your discontent in private, when you’re alone.


Be as clear as possible with plans and expectations so possible hurdles and misunderstandings are minimized. Most people like straightforwardness and honesty more than they like complex surprises that could have easily been avoided. Clarity now usually means fewer confusions later. Try it. 


Talk less. Listen more. Ask questions that assist others to talk more. Promote other people’s dreams and desires. 

Move away from shifting every conversation to focus on you and your interests. Other people are very interesting, perhaps even more interesting than you may be.


Do simple things to lessen the load of others. Open doors, stand back, pick up after yourself, and say “please” and “thank you” a lot. Assume a servant attitude no matter how important you or others may think you are. 

Work at being the most generous, forgiving, and kind person you’ve ever encountered and you’ll be amazed at how many generous, forgiving, and kind people you will repeatedly encounter.

Have-you-eaten were mother’s final words to me. Mother gasped this well-worn phrase, one used hundreds and if not thousands of times, through the paraphernalia of masks and tubes before dying alone on the fifth floor of Addington Hospital.

During the 18 months prior to her death mom had had a breast removed, endless bouts of chemotherapy and visited every faith healer in the greater region. But, the cancer had spread, and coronary disease and lung failure were the scribed causes of death.

I was at home and asleep when mom died.

A nurse phoned and woke me with the news at twenty minutes past two in the morning on May 15th, 1980.

I was furious having repeatedly asked to be called if Mother’s condition deteriorated. The thought of Mother dying alone was very disturbing to me.  Dad gasped when I phoned with the news and after the brief call I headed towards the hospital on my motorcycle and strided through the quietness of the hospital to the ward and was surprised to find everything functioning as usual and mom’s bed vacant. Every trace of Mother was gone and new folded sheets and a pin-stripe blanket waited for whomever was next.  

I snooped my way to the hospital bowels in search of the in-house mortuary but a combination of fear of the nether world, of still, vacant-stare corpses, the possibility of meeting a masked, gloved worker readying Mother for some macabre final test propelled me to street level and and I roared towards the southern freeway to sleep the rest of night at Jenny, my sister’s house. My twelve-year-old nephew and I slept on the living room carpet and he rambled, trying to bring me comfort, although he too had just lost his beloved grandmother.

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

  We Will Be Men, My Sons

(With acknowledgement to Rudyard Kipling)

When we can negotiate without compromising our integrity, stand on our own two feet without pushing others over and love without controlling

….. we will be men, my sons.

When we understand and accept our uniquenesses, our resilience, giftedness, our frailties and failings, and within that understanding, and do no harm

….. we will be men, my sons.

When we can forgive all others, deserved, undeserved, requested or not, and freely offer mercy and grace even to those who have rejected us, deserved or not

….. we will be men, my sons.

When we can welcome strangers with radical hospitality, and yet foster independence, and be generous with all we own, while treasuring our valued possessions

….. we will be men, my sons.

When we empower others, desire their highest good especially when they can do nothing for us in return

….. we will be men, my sons,

………………..we will be men.

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Rod