By John Certalic
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The podcast currently has 217 episodes available.
Today’s episode, #218, brings to a close Season 8 of our You Were Made for This podcast. If you’ve been listening for any length of time, I hope you’ve come to appreciate the high value we place on the skill of listening as a way to enrich our lives. As we wrap up Season 8 today, I’m going to share a story that illustrates why it’s better to listen than to talk.
But before we get into today’s episode, here’s what this podcast is all about.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach, here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
To access all past and future episodes, go to the bottom of this page to the yellow "Subscribe" button, then enter your name and email address in the fields above it.
The episodes are organized chronologically and are also searchable by topics, categories, and keywords.
A housekeeping note - let’s stay in touchWhile there won’t be any new podcasts coming your way for awhile, I still want to stay connected with you. Email is the easiest way for me to stay in touch with you. I’ve got some ideas and projects in mind I want to tell you about, so I’ll need your email address to do that.
If you already get my Wednesday email, you’re good to go. There's nothing more for you to do. But if you’re not on my email list and you want to hear from me occasionally, you’ll need to sign up for it.
Click here or go to johncertalic.com/email to get on my email list.
An example from the Bible of how it’s better to listen than to talkAlright. Now, for today, I’m going to start by sharing with you an interesting example in the Bible of listening found in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 17, verses 1-8. It’s often referred to the transfiguration of Jesus. Here’s the story:
1Six days later Jesus took Peter and the two brothers, James and John, and led them up a high mountain to be alone. 2As the men watched, Jesus’ appearance was transformed so that his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as light. 3Suddenly, Moses and Elijah appeared and began talking with Jesus.
4Peter exclaimed, “Lord, it’s wonderful for us to be here! If you want, I’ll make three shelters as memorials[a]—one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
5 But even as he spoke, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy. Listen to him.” 6The disciples were terrified and fell face down on the ground.
7Then Jesus came over and touched them. “Get up,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.” 8And when they looked up, Moses and Elijah were gone, and they saw only Jesus.
A few observationsThe passage is full of references to light. Jesus' face is shone like the sun…His clothes are “as white as light.” God speaks from a “bright cloud.”
Another thing I noticed in this passage is what an unusual circumstance Peter, James, and John find themselves in. Not only does Jesus change his appearance, but we also have him in conversation with Moses and Elijah, two Old Testament figures who died centuries ago. There’s clearly a relationship between the three of them.
But the three apostles have no category or words to process what they are seeing. They’ve never seen anything like this before.
And then I noticed one word that jumps out, waving its arms to tell me it’s the keyword in the text, around which everything else orbits. Like all the planets revolving around the sun. It’s the word “listen” in verse 5.
In the original Greek language in which the New Testament is written, listen means “to hear, consider, learn from, to understand, comprehend.”
A contrast in reacting to JesusWe see how this relational dynamic of listening is played out in how the three disciples react to this most unusual situation.
Peter was awestruck by what he saw at the top of the mountain that day. And rather than sitting back and letting the event unfold, he starts talking. He was so uncomfortable with this transformation of Jesus, plus the return of Elijah and Moses from the dead. He had never seen anything like this.
So Peter deals with his discomfort by proposing this laughable building plan that sounds so spiritual: Building three shelters or tabernacles, one each for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah.
Peter interjected himself into the conversation between Jesus, Elijah, and Moses. Do you think they were talking about the need for a shelter or tabernacle for each of them? I don’t think so.
The truly awesome revelation of the majesty of God should have silenced Peter by taking his breath away.
In contrast to Peter, we have James and John were also present, but they didn’t say a word. Everyone else was talking: Jesus, Moses, Elijah, and, of course, Peter. Have you ever been the silent one in the room where everyone else is talking? I wonder what it was like for these quiet two.
We miss things when we talk rather than listenThe text says Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him up a mountain “to be alone.” Jesus’s appearance then changed: “His face showed like the sun, and his clothes became as white as light.”
For what purpose? He becomes transformed with all this brightness. Why? Then Moses and Elijah show up from the dead? How come? What does all this mean?
We don’t know the answer to any of these questions because Peter starts talking. Had he kept quiet, and just watched and listened, we might have learned more. But by talking, Peter changes the trajectory of the event by sharing what he’s thinking rather than waiting to hear what Jesus has to say.
Theologians have speculated for centuries what Jesus had in mind when he orchestrated this event. I wonder how this story would have turned out had Peter kept his mouth closed, like James and John, and let the story unfold without interjecting himself into it.
Notice also what Peter says, “Lord, it’s wonderful for us to be here!” He was making this spectacular event all about him, and not about Jesus and his agenda.
We often personalize events and make them about us when, in reality, they’re about what Jesus is doing to advance his kingdom.
Peter couldn’t wait to see things unfold. He couldn’t step into the larger story of Jesus, his transfiguration, and the conversation between Jesus, Moses, and Elijah.
He made this event about the smaller story of his feelings of awkwardness and his way of coping with it through his building proposal. It’s understandable that Peter would feel ill at ease, for there’s no category for what he, James, and John witnessed. Yet James and John kept quiet. Peter could have, too.
What are we to learn from this story?I want to come back to the original meaning of “listen” that I mentioned at the beginning. In the original Greek, as I mentioned, listen means “to hear, consider, learn from, to understand, comprehend.”
What are we to consider, learn from, understand, or comprehend from this story?
It reminds me of the fortune cookie photo you can see in the show notes and on our website. It was sent to me by Kathy, a long-time friend and board member of our ministry. She happened to be in San Fransisco on a trip with her son. Kathy is well-versed in our passion for promoting good listening and wrote the following about the photo:
We then went to a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco’s Chinatown, and after dinner, I opened my fortune cookie and practically gasped out loud when I saw this fortune! It was much better than the typical "A pleasant surprise is waiting for you" fortune! I knew right away I had to share it with you!
“There are lessons to be learned by listening to others”
“It’s better to listen” principles from the Transfiguration storySo what can we take away from this story to help us in our relationships? Here are a few:
As we wrap up season eight today, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to see how you can put into practice the better to listen principle.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
And don’t forget, if you want to get on my email list so we can stay in touch going forward, you’ll need to sign up for it. Unless, of course, you’re already getting my weekly emails. Click here or go to johncertalic.com/email to get on my email list.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast?
021: The Most Important Relationship of All
Prior recent episode217: God Will Surprise Us
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
In the past dew episodes I’ve been talking about how I tracked down my birth father and met him for the first… and last time in my life. You’ll find links to those episodes at the bottom of the show notes. Today’s show concludes this painful chapter in my life by focusing on a larger relational and spiritual principle that applies to all of us. Namely, sometimes in our difficulties God will surprise us in unusual ways to remind us he is still working for our good and for his glory.
But before we get into today’s episode, here’s what this podcast is all about.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach, here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
To access all past and future episodes, go to the bottom of this page to the yellow "Subscribe" button, then enter your name and email address in the fields above it. The episodes are organized chronologically and are also searchable by topics, categories, and keywords.
Where we left off in the last episodeIn our last episode, #216, I told how I got the phone number of my birth father through one of his other sons. After about a month of sitting on the phone number and rehearsing what I would say to him when we talked, I finally summoned up the nerve to make the call. Part of my delay in calling, I realized later, was that the search for him was what energized me, not any actual contact with my birth father. The adrenaline rush was over.
I had no illusions that he would respond well when I called. I don’t even know what responding well would have looked like. The fact the man was married seven times lowered my expectations. There was no thinking in my mind that he would rejoice at my call, sobbing, and once he composed himself would say something like,
No fantasy expectation“Oh, I’ve wondered about you and thought about you almost every day since I first heard you were going to be born. Your mother would not return my phone calls. I even stopped at her apartment on one of my trips, but no one was home. I wrote to her a number of times, but she never wrote back. Then I lost track of her. I am SO glad you called, and I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not being able to support you when you were a child. If you have it in your heart to forgive me, I really would like to see you face to face.”
A more realistic response, I thought, would be his denial that he was my birth father. He might even hang up on me. I’d be fine with either. The court records told me all I needed to know about his character.
Surprise ending to my search“Hello, is this Jack Byrd?
“Yes, it is.”
“My name is John Certalic, and I’m doing some family history work and I think you and I might be related.”
“Really?”
“Yes, does the name Renee Morris ring a bell with you?”
“No, can’t say as it does.”
“You would have met her in the late 1940s when you were a truck driver and used to make runs to Milwaukee where she lived. She was from northern Minnesota and worked for the telephone company.”
“Hmmm. This does sound familiar, now that you say it.”
“Well, I am her son, and she tells me you are my father.”
Long silence. Dead air. Nothing. What is he going to say now? What came out of his mouth surprised me.
“Well, well,” with a jovial laugh as would come from a gentle grandfather, “I guess I have children all over the country I didn’t even know about.”
We talked for a bit more, exchanged addresses, and agreed to send pictures of each other.
Neither of us ever did.
A different surprise phone callAfter tracking him down, and then my telephone conversation with Jack Edward Byrd, I was able to put things to rest more easily. That all changed about six months later when the telephone rang one sunny Sunday autumn afternoon.
“Hello.”
“Hello. Is this John Certalic?”
“Yes, it is.”
“You don’t know me, but my name is Judy Capes.”
I went silent for what seemed like an hour as I processed what I just heard and speculated what it might mean. Why was SHE calling? How did she find me? Was I going to be in trouble? All these thoughts raced through my head, like an auctioneer’s rapid review of bids on used farm equipment at a foreclosure.
What did I do wrong now? was the question that always popped into my mind at times like this. The answer was almost always nothing, but growing up as a kid, I always assumed I was doing something wrong. What other
explanation could there be for my mother yelling and slapping me in the face so many times?
“You don’t know me, but my name is Judy Capes.”
But I did know something of Judy Capes.
She is Jack Byrd’s first child from his first of six marriages. I learned about her from court records I had found in Fort Wayne.
She continued. “I was talking to Dad recently and he told me about your call to him several months ago. He wrote you a card and sent a few pictures, but they came back to him in the mail. Apparently you moved and the forwarding address expired.”
My birth father tracks me downShe was right. I had given him my office address rather than my home address, and I had moved my business to another part of town before he wrote to me. I was surprised it had been that long since I talked to him.
“Dad asked if I would try to track you down for him. So I just searched online and found you rather easily.”
“I see.”
“I guess you and I are brother and sister then,” she gracefully remarked, trying to end the awkward silence.
“I guess so.”
So Judy knew.
In my search for Jack Edward Byrd, I didn’t want to open up a can of worms for him or his other children or ex-wives. So I never tipped my hand to share with any of them that I was his illegitimate child, the one he kept secret from everyone.
“Tell me about yourself, then. And how did you find Dad?”
Now that she knew, I had no reason to be secretive, so I gave her a quick summary of my life and told her how I found the man she called “Dad,” but for whom I had no title other than the antiseptic, “Birth father.”
Discovering a surprise sibling“So that’s me, Judy. Tell me about you.”
I learned she was living in Leesburg, Indiana—just twenty minutes from our daughter’s in-laws, a couple with whom we became friends when our kids married.
We had a long talk, a very pleasant one that concluded with Judy saying, “I’d like to meet you in person. Any chance we could do that when you visit your daughter’s in-laws?”
“Possibly,” I said. “We don’t get down to Indiana as much anymore now that our daughter moved back to Milwaukee. But I would like to see you, too.”
Shortly thereafter, the conversation ended. I thought, Do I have room for another relationship?
Within six months, Janet and I were visiting Judy. Meeting her renewed my curiosity about Jack Edward Byrd, the one person we had in common.
The Saturday afternoon of our meeting, Janet and I drove up the gravel road to where Judy lived in semi-rural Leesburg, Indiana. We turned a bend in the fire lane that separated two rows of one-story homes on small lots in between two channels of a lake we later learned was good for fishing. Within a minute of pulling up to her tasteful and well-maintained yellow home, she came out to greet us as we got out of our car.
She’s very tall, just like me, was my first thought. Just like her father, as described to me by his former daughter-in-law.
“She looks like you. I could see the resemblance right away,” Janet would tell me later.
As we got out of the car, Judy walked over to us, welcomed us, and gave me a big hug.
A surprising family reunionMonths passed and one day I got an e-mail from Judy, saying she was going to arrange a family reunion at her house some Sunday afternoon in the fall.
“I do hope you and Janet can come. We are flying Dad up, and Jim and I are going to drive down to the Indianapolis airport to pick him up the Saturday before.
“He doesn’t know anything about this, and I’m not going to tell him until he gets off the plane. If I told him now, he probably wouldn’t come. So that’s why I’m going to spring it on him once he’s off the plane. There’s a distinct possibility, though, he might turn around and fly right back home to Florida. I’m willing to take the risk, though.”
Judy continued. “I’ve already talked to my other brothers and sisters, and all except one plan to come. Some of them have not seen or talked to Dad in over thirty years. I sure hope you can come.”
That call set the stage for the most awkward afternoon I have ever spent in my life.
As we sat in Judy’s living room, I talked a little, but mostly listened and drew people out to learn about them. They comprised an interesting group, and
was enjoying myself. Then the door bell rang, the front door opened, and in walked a tall, slightly hunched over, silver-haired old man.
It was Jack Edward Byrd.
I meet my birth fatherWearing a white and peach-colored Ban-Lon sport shirt, gray polyester pants, and white shoes, my birth father looked every bit the part of an eighty-year-old retiree from Florida.
“Hi, everyone,” he announced to those in the living room. He straightened his shoulders and began walking around the room, extending his handshake to some. He walked past me with a fleeting “Hello.” What a terribly awkward moment.
He seemed like the next-door neighbor who just stopped over to borrow a plumber’s snake to clean out a clogged drain.
I watched him engage with the others in small talk. He appeared comfortable, while most of the rest of us looked ill at ease. It was a meeting of strangers. Judy later told me some of her siblings, who live within forty miles of each other, had not seen or talked to each other since high school.
Though I dislike ice-breakers, I felt like we needed one at that moment. Something like, “Share with your partner a favorite childhood memory.”
It was an afternoon of small talk around a really big elephant in the room—Jack E. Byrd, the father of us all.
Sharing the search results with two trusted friendsMore significant than all the details of locating, and then meeting my birth father, is how I finally moved passed this I never should have born - it’s not how it’s done chapter in my life. It’s significant because it illustrates a relational principle that can be applied in many different situations when we want to help people close to us going through a difficult patch in their life.
For me, help came from my wife Janet, and two friends, Brad and Kathy. The four of us would get together for dinner occasionally during the search for my birth father. They would ask how trying to locate him was going and I’d update them on my progress. It was something I didn’t want to talk about, yet I wanted to at the same time. It was always upsetting to me.
One particular evening we made arrangements to meet for dinner. Driving to the restaurant, I vowed I would not talk about what I was going through. It weighed so heavily on my heart that I needed a break from it all. We had gone out with them twice before, and both times when they asked how I was doing, I couldn’t hold back the tears, for it started the playback of “I should never have been born.” I didn’t want to hear this song again, so I rehearsed in my mind that if they brought the subject up, I was going to stay calm and either say “I’d rather not talk about it,” or just give some cursory facts to be polite.
A dinner surpriseIt was a dark, wintry Saturday night when we pulled up to the restaurant. I dropped Janet off at the door, then drove down several rows of parked cars before I could find an empty stall for mine. When I walked in the door, I wasn’t able to see Janet, nor Kathy and Brad, anywhere. They must have gotten a table already, I thought. So I began looking for them through the dim light. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but I spotted them over in the corner at a round table. Table in the corner of a dark restaurant—good
choice, I thought, given how I had been at the more recent times we’ve eaten out together. Besides faintly seeing their silhouettes through the dark light, I also spotted something else at the table.
As I neared the table, I could see tied to the empty chair they saved for me a yellow, helium-filled mylar balloon emblazoned in very large letters, “He’s here! It’s a boy!” Just like the kind of balloon you find in a hospital gift shop you give to parents of newborns. It caught me so off-guard it took my breath away.
I sat down stunned. On my placemat was a card from Kathy and Brad, which on the front read “A baby is a gift of love—it’s a boy. Congratulations!” And on the inside, they had written, “We are so happy you were born.”
This surprise took my breath awayI stared at the card, still feeling the impact of the helium-filled balloon behind me. I couldn’t speak. Nothing came out of me, except the tears I had committed to stuff down while in the parking lot just a few moments before. But these were different tears. Not tears of sorrow, as the others had been. But rather, tears of cleansing release, tears that washed away the dirt of my depression, tears that cleared my eyes so I could see what was true, what was real.
No one said anything. They just watched. Their long silence was so compassionate, so caring, so tender. All I could muster was “Thank you” and a huge sigh of relief. It seems odd now, but something very heavy lifted from me that night. It was like the helium in the balloon. Everything lightened from my heart and seemed to slowly float to the ceiling, through the roof, and gently through the cold night sky up to the stars that seemed to call it away. Far, far away, where it would no longer grip me as it had for so many years.
In the days following, we continued to remain friends. Brad and Kathy knew all about my phone conversation with Jack Byrd, and then meeting him in person at Judy’s house in that most uncomfortable of family reunions.
Friends drift apartBut when we started attending different churches, we drifted apart and didn’t see each other anymore for years. But what they did that night with a helium-filled balloon and a simple card came in handy as a sermon illustration fifteen years later. I was asked to preach a four-part series on caring for others at a church we had recently started attending.
The first sermon was to be about one of my favorite stories in the Bible from the Gospel of Mark where Jesus cared for some difficult people in his life—his own disciples.
I like that story because the disciples remind me of how difficult a person I was for the people in my life during the search for my birth father. The disciples didn’t create a scene in a restaurant like I did, but they certainly needed help when Jesus told them to row across the Sea of Galilee soon after He had fed 5,000 men and their families. Maybe it was the food; I don’t know. In both my story and the disciples’ story, food brought out the worst in us—and the best in the people who cared for us.
Jesus gets in the boat with peopleWhen the disciples did what Jesus told them by getting into the boat on the large lake that is the Sea of Galilee, a storm came up. It caused them to strain at the oars to make it to the other side. They were obedient, yet as the Gospel writer Mark tells us, they were struggling, they were fearful, and their hearts were hardened toward Jesus. The thing that gets them out of their
predicament was Jesus walking from shore onto the water to meet them and get in the boat with them. He says very little in doing so, but in getting in the boat with the obedient, but scared and hardened men, Jesus makes their problem go away. The winds die down and the seas calm, all because Jesus got in the boat with them.
As I prepared this sermon, I was reminded how years earlier my friends Brad and Kathy, did what Jesus did. They got in the boat with me, didn’t say much, but listened and cared for me by just being there. Their presence, even when I caused several scenes in several restaurants, calmed the stormy seas in my life, just as Jesus getting in the boat with His frightened, hardhearted apostles calmed the Sea of Galilee and their hearts as well.
An important relationship principleBrad and Kathy illustrated the principle that we tend to overestimate the power of words, but underestimate the power of our presence. We think we need to say something, that we need to dispense wise, comforting, and helpful words to care for people. But on days when we’re not feeling terribly wise because we’ve misplaced the car keys or can’t figure out how to program our DVR, we feel so inadequate.
Most of caring is just showing up, but it is so hard to do when our own needs and inadequacies nag at us like dirty dishes in the sink crying for our attention. Caring for others exposes our perceived shortcomings of who we are and what we’re capable of. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I make things worse? If I can’t fix this person’s problem what then? What will all of this say about ME?
I planned to mention in my sermon that caring for others is not about us. It’s about them. It’s about being available to God to be used to draw people to
His son Jesus. It’s not about being a competent problem-solver or wise advice-giver. It’s about reflecting the image of God well and being His
representative. It’s about getting out of the way so the Holy Spirit can work in someone’s heart without interference from us.
A surprise from GodThat’s what Kathy and Brad did for me, and it’s what we can all do for each other. In my finer moments, as rare as they are, I find myself asking the question, I wonder if there’s someone God is asking me to get into the boat with. Not conventional grammar, I know. But sometimes the best thoughts have the worst English.
So that’s what I prepared to talk about in my sermon that Sunday morning. Moments before the service began, I was stunned to see two friends seated in the audience I had not seen or talked to in years—Brad and Kathy.
ClosingIn closing, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to think of a person going through a rough time who could use someone like you to get into their boat.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows215: Searching For My Birth Father
139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast?
021: The Most Important Relationship of All
Prior recent episode216: Our Past Helps Us Understand Our Present
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
Hello everyone. If you haven’t listened to episode 215, “Searching for my Birth Father,” I suggest listening to that episode before continuing with this one. Just go to johncertalic.com/215. Today’s episode, #216, continues with the theme of how understanding our past helps us understand our present when we see how God began shaping us early on to find joy in being the person he created us to be.
Before we get into this I need to tell you that Carol, our announcer and executive director on vacation this week. Filling in for her is the latest addition to our staff, our chaplain and family cat, Father Patrick O’Malley. You’ll see his picture at the top of our show notes for today’s episode.
Picking up where we left off in the previous episodeWe left off episode 215 with the end of a conversation I had with my mother in the early 1990s about wanting to track down my birth father. The only information she had on him was that Jack Byrd, a truck driver, lived in Fort Wayne, Indiana in 1948.
I’ll continue now reading from edited excerpts from my book, THEM that describe what I did next.
* * *
At the time of this talk with my mother, our son and daughter were attending Grace College in Winona Lake, Indiana, about forty miles from Fort Wayne. I learned through my genealogy class that Fort Wayne has one of the best genealogy libraries in the country.
Planning a trip to discover more about my pastI thought I would extend one of our weekend trips to visit our kids by driving to Fort Wayne to try locating this Jack Byrd. But without the Internet, and certainly without Google, I didn’t have a lot to go on. Just his name, and a seemingly common one at that, his occupation, and where he lived 43 years ago.
Before going to Fort Wayne, I started some research from home using directory assistance. (My apologies here to the thirty and younger crowd. Ask your parents or grandparents about “directory assistance.”) I called the Fort Wayne area code, asking for the phone number of any Jack Byrd, of which there were three. Each with different middle names or initials. So I called my mother and asked her if she remembered his middle name, and she did —it was Edward. Jack Edward Byrd.
Then I called the only Jack E. Byrd listed with directory assistance and found out he wasn’t the Byrd I was looking for. This Jack Byrd told me the following, “Back in the 1950s, I used to get mistaken for him all the time. Bill collectors and other people kept calling me, thinking I was the other Jack E. Byrd. It was quite annoying. Sorry I can’t help you out, but good luck in finding him.”
A second dead-end in search for my birth fatherStarting this search process surprised me; something I had ignored for thirty years had developed into a sense of urgency to locate my birth father. It created an adrenaline rush in me that lasted for about six months. In the genealogy class I learned of services that track down birth parents for adopted children. So I contacted one and paid twenty- five dollars for them to try locating Jack Edward Byrd. They came up with nothing. They’re not trying hard enough, I thought.
Undeterred by this dead end, Janet and I decided to visit our college kids over their homecoming weekend in October of 1991. We drove down on a Thursday evening. Then on Friday, while Janet spent time with our daughter Jennifer and our son Michael in Winona Lake, I drove over to Fort Wayne. I wanted to use what I had been learning in my genealogy class to try locating this mystery man in my life.
My first stop was the Allen County Public Library in Fort Wayne, where I camped out in the Genealogical Department. Looking through every source I could think of, I documented my research as I used to do when I wrote term papers in college. Using one bit of information to lead to another energized me. I started looking through obituary notices from the Fort Wayne newspaper. I found nothing there. I had to move on to something different, and to do it quickly, for I was due back in Winona Lake the same evening to attend homecoming activities with our kids.
Looking for keys to my past at the library and courthouseChecking out city directories, I found listings for Jack E. Byrd from 1946 to 1955. His employers indicated several trucking firms he worked for during this period. He disappeared after that. I looked for current listings of these same trucking companies, but they did not exist anymore. Had they still been in business, maybe an old-timer there would have remembered my birth father. Time was running out and I still hadn’t gotten the information I needed. Maybe I’ll have to come back and visit the addresses where he lived in the early 1950s to see if any of the neighbors were there at the time, and if so, ask if they knew his whereabouts.
With nowhere else to look in the Genealogical Department of the Allen County Library, and with time moving quickly, I went across the street to the Allen County Courthouse. It was there I found a treasure trove of information I needed. Room 201 houses the marriage and divorce records, so I started there. I was surprised, yet not surprised at what I found.
It’s amazing what information you can find on a marriage license. I discovered Jack Edward Byrd was born on April 4, 1922. This April 4th date is a very significant date in my own history, which I will get to later.
Back to the story. Jack Byrd married a woman named Helen Jane Williamson in 1940. I was pretty sure this was my Jack Edward Byrd because it showed his occupation as a truck driver living in the area. This marriage was his first of six, five of which ended in divorce. One ended with the death of his last wife.
My birth father’s other familyAt the time of my birth in February 1949 he was on wife number three and had four children from these marriages. Then there was me. I was conceived the same month his fourth child was born. So he was right in telling my mother when she announced her pregnancy to him that he had another family in Indiana and couldn’t support the two of us and his Indiana family at the same time.
I certainly had no illusions my birth father was the epitome of virtue or that Focus on the Family was going to be contacting him anytime soon to present a lifetime achievement award. He was married three more times after I was born. On several of the wedding licenses, I noticed he either lied to whomever recorded the information, or there was a misprint.
The clock was ticking ever faster as I read through all this data. I wrote down names and any possible contact information from documents I discovered that I could later follow up on when I got home. Once I had gotten all there was to get in room 201, I then checked for civil and probate records, but I wasn’t very thorough because their indexing system was hard to figure out and there wasn’t time to learn it.
I still had about an hour left to do whatever research I could. There was more I could check, but it might have to wait for another trip to Fort Wayne. But the adrenaline was flowing and I wanted to use every minute left.
One final push to gather information about my pastSo I went across the street from the courthouse to the city/ county building to look for records there. Nothing turned up for Jack E. Byrd, but I did find a few records for his son Timothy Kevin Byrd. First a property deed from 1990, then divorce papers from his wife. I wrote down any names and contact information I could follow up on later.
With lots of paper filled with my notes, I headed back to Winona Lake for the evening activities with our son and daughter. I had spent the day using what I learned in the genealogy class, as well as what I learned from a summer job when I was a teacher. I worked for an insurance investigation firm where I checked court documents, looking for criminal records and civil actions. Added to this were the skills I developed as a headhunter, where I used one
bit of information to lead to another. All of this experience came into play in searching for Jack Edward Byrd. I think I was enjoying this process more than I should have. It gave me a sense of control and power over what had rendered me powerless for so many years.
Once we were back home in Milwaukee after my foray into the secrets of the Allen County Courthouse, I organized the notes I had taken and began mapping out a plan to locate Jack E. Byrd.
Making phone calls to discover more of my pastUsing directory assistance, I started calling Jack E. Byrd’s ex-wives and children, whose names I had found on marriage and divorce records. Several of them were easily located; others I could not find. The ones I could locate were scattered around various communities in Indiana. Unlike their husband
and father, they didn’t stray far from their Hoosier roots. He, on the other hand, as I discovered, strayed as geographically as he did in his marital relationships, ending up in various cities in Alabama and Florida.
In calling the contacts I located, I didn’t want this skeleton in their family closets to come falling down on them, fracturing something in them like it did me. I didn’t want to open a can of worms for them. I didn’t want to let the cat out of the bag. I didn’t want to use other clichés for this very important process to me. I had to be honest, yet not reveal too much that would arouse suspicion.
So when I called, I would introduce myself and simply say, “I am doing research into my family history and as part of the search, I’m trying to locate a Jack Edward Byrd, someone I think I may be related to. Do you know if he’s still alive and if so, what his phone number is?”
One bit of information leads to another piece of my pastNo one ever questioned my motives. No one ever asked how I might be related. No one ever asked, “Well, if you think you’re related to Jack Byrd, do you think maybe you might be related to me, too?” If they had, I probably would have just hung up the phone without answering. I’ve learned not every question people ask needs to be answered. I’ve also learned on the rare occasion when people ask me a question that makes me feel uncomfortable, it helps to ask a question in return, “Why do you ask?”
One particular ex-wife I contacted, a woman living in Rensselaer, Indiana, was most helpful. She had lost track of her ex a number of years ago, but she had a lot of names and phone numbers of family members who might know the whereabouts of one Jack E. Byrd. She did think he was still alive. I spent many evenings calling these leads and asking each of them for additional leads. Lots of phone calls, but no success. That was okay, though, because I was doing something. I could do, rather than feel. Doing something gave me a measure of control. It quieted the “you never should have been born; it’s not how people are supposed to come into the world” voices.
One night, while going through my notes from my research in Fort Wayne, I found notes I had scribbled down from the divorce papers of one of Jack Byrd’s sons, Timothy Kevin Byrd. I should mention that in my search, I was always asking for leads to any of Jack Byrd’s children, thinking they would likely know how to reach their father, if in fact, he was still alive.
An attorney gives me a clue to help discover my pastFor some unexplainable reason, when I was at the courthouse, I also wrote down the name of the attorney and law firm that handled the divorce for Timothy Kevin Byrd, which took place in the 1980s.
The next day, I called the law firm of that attorney and asked to speak to him. Relieved he was still with them, I explained I was doing some family history research and noticed in some court documents he represented Timothy Kevin Byrd’s divorce.
“He is someone I may be related to and I’d like to talk to him. Do you know how I can reach him?”
“Well, if I did, I couldn’t tell you—attorney-client privilege and all that. I do remember him, though, and by the way, he goes by Kevin Byrd. I haven’t talked to him in years, but the last I heard, he had moved to Ohio.”
That explained why I couldn’t locate him through directory assistance in the (219) area code in Indiana. In those days, there was no nationwide directory assistance—you had to make a request for a person in a specific city, or at the very least, in a specific area code.
“What about his wife, his ex-wife? Do you know how I can reach her?”
“Hmm. I think she still lives in the Fort Wayne area,” he replied.
This is sure awkwardI had her name from the divorce records so I called directory assistance in Fort Wayne, got her phone number, and then waited a few days before calling. I sensed this call was going to finally lead to where I wanted to go. It felt like I was closing in on a hunt I did not want to end. It was like coming to the end of a good book you didn’t want to finish because the pleasure of reading it would also come to an end. That’s why I waited before I called.
More nervous than in any of my previous calls, when Kevin Byrd’s ex-wife answered the phone I said, “Hi, you don’t know me, but my name is John Certalic. I’m doing research into my family history and as part of this, I’m trying to locate a Jack Edward Byrd, someone I think I may be related to. I understand you used to be married to one of his sons, Kevin. Is that correct?”
Then silence. And more silence.
Finally, with a nervous, halting voice, she replied, “Yes, that’s correct.”
“I’m wondering if I can ask you a few questions about Jack Byrd.”
Silence once again on the other end of the line. After a very long pause, she said, “Can you call me back tomorrow?”
With her voice cracking, it sounded like she was starting to hyperventilate. “I was married to Kevin for only a year and your call has just opened up a lot of very painful wounds and memories.”
Opening up painful wounds in another’s past“Oh, of course I can call back. I am so sorry. It was not my intent to do this to you. I am so sorry.”
“Call tomorrow. I just need some time to think about this and see if I can talk about it. It was all so terrible.”
“I understand, and I apologize for the pain I’ve caused you.”
“Okay.”
Click.
Yikes! What had I done to the poor woman? Some stranger calls her out of the blue and wants to bring up a very painful part of her past. I felt terrible. So I waited several days before calling back.
“Hi, this is John Certalic again, I spoke to you a few days ago.”
“Yes, I remember. I’m sorry I cut you off, but that period in my life was so awful. It was a very abusive marriage. But you asked about Kevin’s father, Jack. He and Kevin were very similar. Angry, abusive men. Jack was very tall. His face was pock-marked, probably from acne as a kid years ago.”
“Is he still alive?’
“I don’t know. It’s been many years since I last saw him.”
“Do you know where he might be living now?”
“No.”
“How about your ex-husband, Kevin? Do you know how I can reach him?”
“I don’t have a phone number for him. The last I heard, he was living in Columbus, Ohio.”
“Well, thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful to me. And again, I am sorry for reminding you of a painful part of your past.”
“That’s okay.”
“Goodbye.”
Another clue to discovering my pastIt was becoming clear to me that perhaps the path to Jack Byrd was through his son Kevin. So I called directory assistance in Columbus, Ohio, and found no listing for him.
Another roadblock. What do I do next?
I went back to my notes and after looking through them, decided to re-contact Jack Byrd’s ex-wives to see if they knew how I could reach the son, Kevin Byrd. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before.
One of the ex-wives said, “Oh, Kevin. Yes, he is living in Columbus, Ohio now. I think I do have his phone number. Let me see, now. Where did I put it?”
Oh, please, dear God. Let her find the number.
“Yes, here it is. His phone number is ....”
Now we were getting somewhere. Another lead, a good lead, to
follow up. The adrenaline was flowing again. I now knew how to reach the closest relative yet to my birth father. But I was getting more nervous about blowing my cover. What if he was more inquisitive than all the others? What if he wanted to know how I thought I might be related to his father? I needed to be honest, yet I wanted to respect everyone’s privacy. I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened with the call to his ex-wife.
It was getting a bit tense. A week went by before I summoned the courage to call the son of my biological father. My half-brother, Kevin Byrd. Same father. Different mothers. It occurred to me then that all of my siblings are half-brothers or half-sisters—the four I grew up with, and the many others I had never met. Nothing in me seemed whole.
Everything was half-this, half-thatEverything was half. I was half-happy. Half-depressed. Nothing was full as it should be. I was not even fully adopted, for I had been raised by half of my birth parents, and adopted by the other half. This sometimes depressed me,
too. If both my birth parents had abandoned me, maybe I would have had more reason to be depressed all the time as a kid and young adult.
Nothing was normal. That’s how it felt during my search.
Not long ago, though, I found some healing from this at a wedding for one of my nieces. I don’t remember how we got on the subject but my brother Joe, who I grew up with, looked at one of my sisters and me, and shaking his head in disbelief, said, “I NEVER considered John my half-brother. He was always just my brother. Never just a half-brother.” What wonderful healing words those were to me.
The final clueThe search for my birth father, rather than depressing me, energized me. The next thing to do was to call his son, Kevin Byrd. After staring at the phone one evening, and picking it up and setting it down once or twice, I finally dialed his number.
“Hello, you don’t know me, but my name is John Certalic. I’m doing some research into my family history and as part of this, I’m trying to locate a Jack Edward Byrd, and I understand you are his son. Am I correct?”
“Yes, I’m his son.”
“Great. Is he still alive?”
“Yes, he is, last time I checked.”
“Do you know where he is living now and how I can reach him?”
“Dad is living outside of Mobile, Alabama. He moved down there when he retired. He got tired of winters in the Midwest. I’ve got his phone number right here; I just talked to him a few days ago. Here’s his number... Oh, and when you call, let the phone ring for a long time. He’s hard of hearing now and it will take him a while to get to the phone.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your help. Goodbye.”
Now what?
More to come in the next episodeWe need to stop here because I know you have other things to do with your day. But we’ll pick up and hopefully finish this story in our next episode, #217 in two weeks. I think you’ll be interested in hearing what happened when I actually called Jack Byrd and what he had to say to me.
For now, though, I want to remind you of the theme of this little chapter of my past, namely that understanding our past and where we’ve come from helps us understand our present when we see how God began shaping us early on to find joy in being the person he created us to be.
It’s a theme that can be part of your story as well. For me, I certainly didn’t find any joy at the time in being the person God created me to be. That realization took time. But looking back now, I can see things more clearly.
The April 4ths connectionsHere’s just one example, the whole April 4th thing that I mentioned earlier. In my search for Jack Byrd, I discovered his birthday is April 4th. That day is also the day I found Jesus in 1968, which is my spiritual birthday. It’s also the same day Martin Luther King was assassinated. He transitioned out of this world into a new life the same day I entered a new life.
And then the same thing happened to one of the dearest people in my life, My mother-in-law, Elda Millane, when she died at age 96 on April 4th, 2020. She had been suffering from Alzheimer’s for at least the previous 12 years. It was both a sad and joyous occasion. And it’s the subject of episode 059, “The Last Place You Would Ever Think to Find Joy.” I’ll have a link to it at the bottom of the show notes. It’s really one of my favorites. I hope you listen to it someday.
Thinking about all these connections to April 4th just gives me chills and draws me to the love of God.
ClosingIn closing, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to think about how God has been shaping you, even from an early age, to be the person he’s created to be. And to find a measure of joy in that reality.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows021: The Most Important Relationship of All
059: The Last Place You Would Ever Think to Find Joy
029: An Adoption Relationship Story- Part 1
030: An Adoption Relationship Story - Part 2
Most prior recent episode215: Searching For My Birth Father
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
DonatePlease consider donating to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world. You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here.
You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
One of the more popular topics from past episodes has been the story of Gail Rohde who was adopted as an infant, and her search as an adult for her birth mother. Then several years after finding her, she searched for her birth father - and found him, too. I’ll have links to those episodes at the bottom of the show notes.
It can be a relational minefield in dealing with the dynamics of adoptees wanting to know where they’ve come from, especially when it’s been hidden from them.
I have a similar story about searching for my birth father that I wrote about in my book, THEM. Today’s episode is about that search.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach. I'm here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
To access all past and future episodes, go to the bottom of this page to the yellow "Subscribe" button, then enter your name and email address in the fields above it. The episodes are organized chronologically and are also searchable by topics, categories, and keywords.
An invitation from a friendOne day my retired friend Bill told me he was starting to get interested in his family history. He wanted to learn more about where he came from and then pass this information down to his children and grandchildren. To help with this, Bill decided to attend a meeting of the Milwaukee Genealogical Society at the main library downtown. And he wanted to know if I would like to come with him.
I wanted to know where I came from, too, particularly as it related to my birth father, the man who brought me into this world in a one-night stand with my mother. The man who abandoned us and who made life very difficult for my farm-girl mother from Staples, Minnesota. The man who was having a greater and greater unwelcome influence in my life, though we had never met. Discovering who he was might help me discover who I was.
So with all this in mind, I decided to go with Bill. We went to the first meeting and both of us became hooked on discovering our roots. This was in the early 1990s, before the Internet was widely available. So playing family detective and historian was a bit more challenging than it is today.
Wondering about my birth fatherFrom the time my mother first told me I was born out of wedlock and later adopted by my father, I wondered a lot about who my biological father was. And a lot about who I was. I always felt different as a kid. I was taller than my siblings, and as a teenager, was much taller than my parents. Maybe the circumstances surrounding my birth explained why I was depressed much of the time growing up.
“How you came into the world is not how it’s done. You never should have been born” was a feeling that kept repeating itself over and over again in my soul, like a song on a damaged CD that skips because of a scratched track. Maybe if I knew more about my birth father and where I came from, I would be less depressed.
Long before attending the Milwaukee Genealogical Society meetings with Bill, I began the search for the mystery man from my past. One morning, when I was twenty years old and home from college, I sat at the kitchen table of our small house, just with my mother and father, as my brother and sisters were in school. Fighting back my fear of not knowing what would happen next, I summoned all the courage I could muster to continue the conversation my mother started with me ten years earlier.
Picking up a conversation from ten years ago“Mom, do you remember when I was about ten and you told me Dad was not my natural father? I was wondering whatever happened to my…”
With that, my father quickly jumped up from the table, forcefully cutting me off and pounding his fist on the kitchen table next to his coffee cup, blurting out, “He was a truck driver and was killed in an accident. That’s all we’re ever going to talk about this!”
Something inside told me he was not telling the truth as he stormed out of the room.
For the next twenty years, I wondered about that conversation. Especially around the time of my birthday. I could never enjoy my birthday, for it would once again bring up the “how you came into the world is not how it’s done; you never should have been born” theme from the basement of my heart. It would start a cycle of depression that would last for several days. I felt like crawling in a hole and just sleeping until the depression lifted, as it always did with time.
Wanting to be like everyone elseI felt so different from the rest of the world. Why can’t I be just like everyone else? Yet part of me was glad I was not like everyone else. But that part, the missing legitimacy to my birth part, was where I wanted to be like everyone else. The mystery about my origins troubled me deeply.
I read with rapt attention newspaper articles about people reuniting with their birth parents. I intently watched TV shows and movies about children discovering as adults siblings they never knew they had. There’d be scenes in the airport with middle-aged people hugging their newly found brothers and sisters as they got off the plane. Maybe there’s someone out there like that for me. Maybe my biological father had always wondered about me and was trying to track me down.
In the genealogy classes Bill and I attended, we learned how to find valuable information from public records, like birth certificates filed in courthouses. The copy of my birth certificate shows my last name is Certalic and my father is Harry Certalic. Nothing unusual about this, except if I had been adopted by Harry Certalic, why did his name appear on my birth certificate? My mother told me they married a year and a half after I was born and that he didn’t adopt me until I was five. Were my parents lying to me? It made me angry to think about it. What are they not telling me? Why can’t people tell me the truth?
A courthouse cover-upThings became a bit clearer when I went to our local courthouse to see what they had on me. There I found a large ledger book where births in Milwaukee County were recorded in chronological order. I went to the day I was born and looked for my name with the other births recorded for the day. There was my name, and everything appeared in order, except for one entry—my last name. It clearly showed my last name, “Certalic,” but under the ink appeared some form of White-Out, covering over what had originally been entered. It was obvious someone had erased what was recorded as my surname, and then wrote “Certalic” over the erasure. What is this cover-up all about?
I learned through the genealogy class that in Wisconsin, as in many states, when a child is adopted, its original birth certificate is impounded and a new one issued with the name of the adopted parent(s) shown. So that explains why my official birth certificate looks normal, but the ledger book at the courthouse has the erasure. All this to protect the confidentiality of the birth parent(s). While I’m all for confidentiality in most areas of life, what about the right of children to know who brought them into the world?
Who really, then, was my birth father? What name was covered over on the court ledger? What did my original birth certificate look like? As I neared my 40th birthday, I became more and more agitated and depressed about the whole thing. Janet kept encouraging me to talk to my mother to get more information. The last conversation I had on the topic hadn’t gone very well, so I was not anxious to open a can of worms with her again.
Finishing a conversation from twenty years agoOne Sunday afternoon while visiting my parents, I summoned the courage to try finishing the conversation of twenty years ago about my origins. It was an attempt to finish the conversation begun ten years before.
I had been dealing with this whole thing for thirty years, and not dealing with it well. The voices whispering in my heart, “How you came into the world is not how it’s done; you never should have been born,” grew louder and more frequent.
By now, my father had suffered a paralyzing stroke several years after retiring from his factory job. Because of his stroke, he spent most of his time in a wheelchair watching TV. So with him in the living room, and my mother in the kitchen out of earshot, I continued my conversation with my mom from twenty years ago. In the same room, the same conversation.
My mother finally answered my question“Mom, do you remember when I was ten and you told me Dad was not my real father? Who was my natural father?”
She told me some of what she had said before at that time, that he was a truck driver living in Indiana who would deliver empty beer cans to the breweries in town.
“Did he support us?”
“No, when I asked for money to help us, he said he couldn’t because he had a family of his own in Indiana he had to support.”
With a tight grimace in her face and shoulders hunched up, she continued, “And that’s the last I ever talked to him, that [expletive].”
“What's his name?”
“Jack Byrd.
“Where in Indiana did he live?
“Fort Wayne.”
“I want to try and track him down, Mom. Do you want to know what I find out?”
“No.”
____________________
You’re probably done walking your dog or washing dishes by now, so we’ll need to stop. But in our next episode I’ll share how I finally tracked down my birth father and what happened the day I met him.
Most importantly I’ll explain what I learned from this process.
ClosingAs we close for today, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to think about your origins. To ask your parents questions, if they are still around.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows029: An Adoption Relationship Story- Part 1
030: An Adoption Relationship Story - Part 2
124: Resting In Our Identity Frees Us to Love Well
Prior recent episode214: People Are Like Houses
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
DonatePlease consider donating to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world. You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here.
You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
A listener once suggested that for a podcast episode I should read from the book I wrote in 2016, THEM- The Richer Life Found in Caring for Others. It’s about relationships, which of course, is what this podcast is about. But I don’t know if reading from it would interest many of you. Maybe the first chapter might, I don’t know. It’s about how people are like houses when it comes to deepening our relationships with others.
But before we get into today’s episode, here’s what this podcast is all about.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach, here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
To access all past and future episodes, go to the bottom of this page to the yellow "Subscribe" button, then enter your name and email address in the fields above it.
The episodes are organized chronologically and are also searchable by topics, categories, and keywords.
THEM - The Richer Life Found in Caring for OthersMy book THEM has never sold well. Many of them sit on a shelf in our basement to prove it. Two of my relatives I know bought the book, and I offered it to the rest of the extended family as Christmas gifts after it came out. But no one wanted a free and signed copy. I was going to pay the postage, too. Yeah, that was my Charley Brown Christmas alright.
But I did get an award and a cash prize for the book. Writers Digest named it the “Best Inspirational Book of 2016.” However, there wasn’t much competition for inspiration in 2016. It was a lean year in the inspiration department, as you may recall.
Nevertheless, I’m going to take a chance and read from selected portions of chapter one of the book that I think you’ll enjoy hearing, and maybe even find inspiring. It’s about a useful principle that could help you in deepening the relationships in your life. It’s called, “People Are Like Houses.”
People are like housesI’ll begin with this. Every house has multiple openings. All kinds of openings— windows, doors, chimneys, even clothes-dryer vents. Openings to bring the outside in, or openings to let the inside out.
When you walk past some houses, the resident of the house will see you from inside through a window, open the door and come bounding out to greet you.
“Why don’t you come in and I’ll get you something to drink. Please stay a while so we can chat and get caught up with each other’s lives. I’ve been thinking about you. I have so much to tell you since we last met. It is so good to see you.”
This is how some people respond when we walk past their houses. Such people are wide-open houses with openings that invite you in. They are easy people to engage with—the low-hanging fruit of relationships. It doesn’t take a lot of work to relate with people like this. Me, I get along great with children and older ladies because they are houses with relational openings I can easily pick out. Younger than eight and older than eighty is my sweet spot. With everyone in between, not so much.
Other people are houses with fewer openings. Walk past someone’s house like this and when she sees you from her front window, she closes the drapes, pulls the blinds, and turns off the lights. If you go to her front door and ring the doorbell, she’ll pretend she’s not home and leave you standing there like a rebuffed Jehovah’s Witness.
Closed openings to this houseA number of years ago, the elders from a church in our area called me into a meeting to ask me how they could better care for their pastor, who was going through a rough time. Their question showed me they didn’t know him very well. The better we know someone, the easier it is to care for them.
I responded to their question with, “I think you need to get to know him better.”
“We’ve tried, but it’s hard because he plays it close to the vest. He doesn’t let anyone in,” replied one of the elders.”
His house is full of closed doors and covered windows. The opening to his house is hard to find, but if you work at it long and hard enough, you’ll find it.
“Maybe he plays it close to the vest because he’s been hurt in the past with being more open, and he doesn’t want to be hurt again. Maybe he plays it close to the vest because he doesn’t trust you.”
A few heads nodded, but that’s as far as it went. Some people have closed houses like this. I’m like this myself at times. I play it close to the vest when I don’t trust people either. I close the openings to my house to protect myself, which Christian psychologist Larry Crabb calls the most common sin of us all—self-protection.
Delayed openingsOther people have houses whose openings will close up at first, but who wait to see if you come back, and then if the stars are properly aligned, and they’ve finished watching Dancing with the Stars, will crack open the door and whisper to you, “Now is not a good time, maybe next week. I’m not feeling well right now.” So you leave with a small opening for the future, a little hope.
Still other people, when they see you come by, will call out from the window, “I’d really like to talk, but the baby is napping, and my husband thinks I spend too much time with my girlfriends, so could you please come back tomorrow? Come at night, though, and come to the back door. I really need to talk to you.”
Different houses, different openingsGet the picture? People are like houses with many different openings. Some are wide open, and others closed shut like a lake cottage in the dead of winter. The frustrating thing for me is that I often want to enter a person’s relational house through the opening I want, through an easy opening like the front door. I don’t want to have to come back again and again, or wait until spring. And I don’t want to go to the back door at night. Nor do I want to talk through the screen of the kitchen window, or get on the ground and whisper through the basement window.
But the fact is, if I want to relate well with someone, I have to go with the opening that person gives me, not the one I want. This principle is especially true in caring for others. We can’t care well for people if we don’t know them very well. To care well means at times we have to pursue people and look for openings to get to know a person at a heart level. It’s not always easy, for some people have closed up many of the openings to their house. We can’t give up, though. It’s important that we work at it. For in the end, it’s always worth it.
The openings children give usThese grandsons of ours have also taught me much about how people, even children, are like houses. They open themselves up to us when they want in ways they want—not at the time or manner I prefer.
On the occasions Janet and I have picked them up from school because their parents were away, I’ve wanted to understand how their day went. What did
they learn in kindergarten today? What is going on in their little hearts. I want to know because I love them deeply and want to enter into their world. When I try to get into their “house,” they are often very closed. They pull the blinds and turn off the lights with their favorite response, “It’s classified.”
It’s classified? Please, don’t they know who I am? I’ve changed their diapers, which should entitle me to more than, “It’s classified, Grandpa.” They closed one of the openings to their house I was trying to enter.
I wondered if there is another opening they would give me. There was.
I discovered the opening one night when Janet and I were babysitting and it came time to put them to bed. They got their pajamas on, brushed their teeth, and crawled into bed. I then read them a book.
“Can you read another one? Please? Oh please!”
“I need a glass of water.”
“Where’s my Star Wars guy? I have to look for it. I can’t go to sleep without it! Really, I won’t fall asleep without it!”
Typical bed-time stall routines. I’ve been through all of this many times, but then one night, Grant, firmly tucked in bed with the covers up to his chin, pulled out from his arsenal of sleep-delaying tactics, this question
“Grandpa, are you going to die?”
I didn’t see this one comingHas someone been talking to this boy? Does he know something I don’t know?
Ironically, his question came eerily close to the question too frightening for all of our family just six years earlier, “Is Grant going to die?” More about that later.
As I sat down on Grant’s bed and looked into his eyes, I could tell he had moved from stalling at bedtime, to a deep metaphysical issue people have pondered for centuries. I was not prepared for his question, nor for such an opportunity to see into his heart. Grant was giving me an opening to his house, and I wanted to take advantage of it. I can’t afford to miss this one, I thought, even though it came at night when I am least alert. But there he was, opening his house to me in a way that worked for him.
As I sat on the bed, I told him, “Yes, I will die someday, but it most likely wouldn’t happen for a very long time.” I went on to tell him that when I did die, I would go to heaven to be with Jesus, where I would wait for him—to join me many years later. I told Grant we have nothing to worry about when it comes to dying if we know Jesus. For if we know Jesus, we will spend forever with Him and with all the other people who know Him.
Grateful for this opening I was invited intoA smile broke out on his small lips that told me he was okay with my answer. He could now call it a day because his question about the destiny of humanity was settled and he could move on. He was comforted, as was I.
“Good night, Grant. I love you.” “I love you, too, Grandpa.”
I turned out his light, thankful for the opening he had given me to his house, to his heart. We connected at an unwelcome, unexpected time for me. I found with our grandkids some of the most significant conversations I’ve had with them happened at night sitting on their bed, because it is when it is most comfortable for them. It’s when they were the most reflective. I have to be on guard, to be aware, so I can take advantage of the openings they give me.
* * * * * * *
Well there you have it, the “People Are Like Houses” principle from chapter one of my book, THEM. In addition to the two examples of this principle I’ve shared here, there are three more stories like it in chapter one of the book. But we’ve run out of time for today, as you’ve probably finished with folding laundry or picking up the kids from school.
I’ll leave you with two thoughts. I wonder if people you want to understand better are giving you “openings to their house” that you might be missing.
And secondly, are you making it harder on people to relate to you because many of the openings to your house are closed? Are your drapes closed and your porch light turned off? It might be worth the risk to switch the lights on and open a window are two.
ClosingAs we close up shop for today, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to look a little more closely at the openings people may be giving you into their house.
Because when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast?
021: The Most Important Relationship of All
Prior recent episode213: Five Things to Watch for in Your Next Conversation
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
DonatePlease consider donating to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world. You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here.
You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
One thing on my mind lately is a question about the meaningful conversations we sometimes have with friends, and what makes them different from other conversations. I started thinking about this while reading news articles about the Super Bowl played earlier this month.
Meaningful conversations and the Super Bowl don’t quite seem to fit together, but they do in my mind. Keep listening and I’ll explain the connection in today’s episode, number 213.
Welcome to today’s episodeMaybe they’ve always done this, I don’t know, but it seems that sports journalists lately are using a new format to write about upcoming sporting events. It’s a pattern where the headline states a specific number of things to look for when one team plays another.
Take the recent Super Bowl from a few weeks ago, for example. “Five things to Watch for When the 49ers take on the Kansas City Chiefs” would be a common headline in news stories. Articles like this help the reader focus on specifics of the game coming up.
This makes me think what if we took the same news approach to analyze the conversations we have with the people close to us. I wonder what that would do to enhance our relationships. Would it make for more meaningful conversations with the people close to us?
I’m going to try this out in today’s episode I’m calling Five Things to Watch for in Your Next Conversation with a Friend
Here goes. First off,
Notice if the topic of conversation with your friend is new or is it one that’s been repeated many times before?Assuming neither of you are suffering from Alzheimer’s, do you or your friend frequently cover the same ground you’ve gone over many times before? For example, does the topic of conversation drift once again to discussing your body’s aches and pains? My friend Robert calls these “organ recitals.” Or does it go to concern about wayward children? The state of our country or culture? Should I buy brown carpeting or grey carpeting? Things you’ve talked about many, many times before.
Why are some conversations with our friends like this? Is there nothing else on our minds? Are we that shallow?
I don’t think so.
My guess is that people who bring up the same topics over and over again are bound up by the unspoken emotions about those topics. No. 1 on the list would be fear, or one of its cousins, like anxiety. Sadness or regret would not be far behind. They are all close relatives.
We sometimes ruminate over things because we haven’t put words to what we’re feeling about those concerns. Instead, what if we talked about the emotions riding on the backs of the topics we repeatedly bring up and see where the conversation goes? It will be a lot better than going in a never-ending circle we often go around in.
A second thing to look for that’s important to having meaningful conversations is to notice who does most of the talking.
Notice who does most of the talkingThere are certainly times where a conversation with a friend needs to be all about them. One person should have the floor for the entire time when they are dealing with a recent loss or some unexpected circumstance. But it shouldn’t be a pattern every time you talk.
I have an extended family relative who is quite a charming extrovert that I only see at extended family gatherings like weddings and funerals. Everyone likes the guy. He holds court with all the relatives and goes on for what seems like hours talking about what’s going on in his life. We know all about him. He knows virtually nothing about the rest of us.
There’s no air time for a meaningful conversation with him. It’s always an interesting monologue from his lips, but there’s no back and forth dialog.
You see the same thing in restaurants sometimes with small groups of people. One person dominates the conversation. And it’s usually someone who talks loudly so you can’t help but overhear what he or she is talking about.
Many times If you look at the faces of those not talking in the group you’ll see blank stares.
In most meaningful conversations people take turns talking and listening. Some may talk more than others, but do they also listen at some point in the conversation? Is there give and take, or is one person giving a speech to an audience?
Here’s another thing to watch for in a conversation with friends.
Is the conversation more about the head or is it more about the heart?Conversations about facts or events, or little things running around inside our brain, can be very meaningful. I’ve had quite a number of them in my lifetime that center on what I think as opposed to what feel. I think of the conversation I had in my twenties with Vern who was twice my age, and the time I asked him what he thought about a career change I was considering. His simple, “I think you’d be good at that” changed my life.
Then there are the conversations about the heart. For example, there are two topics on the hearts of most Baby Boomers like me that don’t get talked about much. The first is Who’s going to take care of me in my old age when I can no longer care for myself? Who’s going to be there for me? Single people think it’s more of an issue for them. But it isn’t. It’s on the mind of married couples just as much. Will my spouse be up to the task? And my kids, will I be able to count on them?
Another important heart topicRelated to this issue is the second heart topic, Will I run out of money at the end of my life, and if so, what do I do then?
As helpful as conversations can be that come from our heads, those that come from our hearts do a better job of bringing us closer together with each other.
Inasmuch as we have control of a conversation, we do ourselves a favor when we look for and discuss the emotional aspects surrounding the issues of life. Like baby boomers talking about their worries of who’s going to care for me. Who can I trust at the end of my life? Regrets for not saving as much as I could have, or not being able to save anything earlier for my later years.
Here’s another thing to watch for in our conversation with friends.
Be mindful of how many times the topic of conversation changesThe more topics brought up in a conversation, the less listening is going on. Talking a little about many things is not nearly as life-giving as talking at length about one subject.
The “Let’s talk about everything” approach hijacks a conversation by using what someone is talking about as a springboard to share one’s own related experience. For example, if Monica talks about the great vacation she had visiting the Grand Canyon, and Alyssa jumps in with “I was there too, about seven years ago with my family. The best part for me on that trip was….” Yeah, that’s not good. We’ve gone from Monica having the floor to Alyssa taking it away from her.
To keep the topics of conversation to a minimum, notice if people are asking questions, especially follow-up questions. This tends to keep interactions focused. It’s all part of good listening and people refraining from sharing every thought that pops into their heads.
Finally, watch for how the conversation ends.
Notice how the conversation endsAs a conversation begins to wind down, do you end up wanting more, or are you glad to can move on to other things? Janet and I were at a Bible study recently and during a break in the study, we were in conversation with a friend who brought up a podcast she was listening to from John Eldridge. She was talking about how men and women look at Valentine’s Day differently and how Eldridge had a panel of men sharing their views. She was quite interested in the male perspective and how it compared to her own. But then our break ended and we had to return to the Bible study.
But I wanted to know more. I think every meaningful conversation ends with some form of “I want to know more.”
Boring conversations, however, often end with, “Thank goodness that’s over.”
What to do nextSo there you have it , five things to watch for in your next conversation with friends. When we get good at noticing the things I’ve mentioned, there are steps we can take to make for more meaningful conversations.
Quickly, here they are:
Well that’s about it for today. I have links at the bottom of the show notes to past episodes related to today’s topic. I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to watch for the things you can do to create more meaningful conversations with the people close to you.
Because when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
As we wrap things up now, don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows021: The Most Important Relationship of All
067: Self-Monitoring How We Listen
094: Self-Awareness Deepens Our Relationships
115: Become More Self-Aware in 2021
Latest prior episode212: Little Things We Do Matter the Most to People
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
DonatePlease consider donating to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world. You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here.
You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
The older I get the more I’ve come to appreciate how it’s the little things we do for people that matter most to them. Little things that come naturally for us because of how God uniquely made us,
I’ve got a few stories for you today to illustrate this point. Stories that I hope will inspire you to bless others in ways that are easy and natural for you. But before we get into today’s episode, here’s what this podcast is all about.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach, here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
To access all past and future episodes, go to the bottom of this page to the yellow "Subscribe" button, then enter your name and email address in the fields above it.
The episodes are organized chronologically and are also searchable by topics, categories, and keywords.
Today’s episodeIf you’re a regular around here you may recall that our most recent podcast episode, no. 211, was my “Men With Waffles” story. Click here if you missed
A Men’s Breakfast Like No Other. It’s the story of how 5 men who each received a waffle maker for Christmas got together one Saturday morning to make waffles for the guys in our adult Sunday School class.
As part of the breakfast they each wrote down on a large sheet of newsprint one thing they appreciated about their wife. I took photos of the whole event, including individual shots of each guy holding the paper describing what they wrote about their wife. Then I made a slide presentation of the photos and showed it to our Sunday school class the next morning. The ladies loved it.
The photo that evoked the most oohs and ahs was of Allen. It’s the one you see at the top of the show notes for today’s episode.
Little things we say can mean a lotAllen simply wrote, “I appreciate Carol.” As I described in the episode, he was the quietest man in our church. While he was a man of few of words, each one of them counted. I don’t know about you, but I’m drawn to people like this.
While our men with waffles breakfast is so vivid in my mind that it seems like a recent event, it actually took place in March of 2011. So much has happened in the lives of the men at that breakfast since then.
Scott and his wife adopted a child. Randy took a new job that moved him to Pittsburgh. Bill completed his Ph.D. and moved first to California, then to Washington State. Brad finished his Ph.D. and took a job in Kansas, and then later moved to South Dakota for a different job. Gregg retired. Mike also retired and is now caring for his wife who recently suffered a debilitating stroke.
But the biggest change of all happened to Allen. Ten years later.
The day that changed everythingOn Sunday, March 7th, 2021 Allen went downstairs to the basement of the home where he and his wife Carol lived, together with their 16-year-old quadriplegic granddaughter Haily who is confined to a wheelchair.
It seemed to Carol that Allen had been in the basement doing some little thing for an unusually long time, so she called to him, “Allen?” There was no answer. She called again. Still no answer. So she went downstairs, and there discovered Allen lying on the floor, having suffered a massive fatal heart attack.
The funeral was held at our church, and I remember going up to Carol in the lobby. But before I could say anything, she began recounting to the people standing around here what happened to Allen on that fateful day a week or so before.
Carol was clearly in a state of shock. What is this going to mean to her and Haily, I thought. Will she be able to care for Haily by herself, given all that Allen did so lovingly to care for and raise their granddaughter? It’s what the whole church who knew Allen and Carol were thinking about. We were all in a state of shock.
Little things we do tell you a lot about a person’s characterIn the months that followed I periodically thought of Allen. I would remember watching him each Sunday morning pulling into a handicap stall in our church parking lot and sliding Haily out the rear ramp of their handicapped-equipped van.
He would push her in her wheelchair into church so quietly and with such ease. It was a little thing he did that mattered so much to Hailey and Carol.
So often when I saw Allen doing this I thought, That is a man who loves well.
I never heard him complain about the toll on him and Carol in caring for Haily.I should be more like him. I complain way too much.
Now I have not heard the story of why Haily’s parents were not raising her, but it didn’t matter. Allen and Carol, as her grandparents, have filled in the gap for what is missing in Haily’s life. And at a great sacrifice.
Fast forward to the breakfast I had with my friend Randy at the end of last year and the waffle he ordered. It reminded me again of Allen and our men with waffles breakfast that I talked about in the last episode.
Seeing Randy’s waffle prompted me to go back and look at the photos of that little event, especially the one of Allen declaring on a large piece of newsprint that he appreciated his wife, Carol. I had thought for a long time after Allen died that I should make a copy of that photo and give it to Carol. I had the file for it sitting on the desktop of my computer for at least a year with good intentions to act on my thought. But with pitiful procrastination for actually doing something about it.
Until just the other day.
A little thing in the mail prompted actionI got an email from Walgreens that they were having a sale on photo enlargements. I saw how easy it was to get a print enlargement of a digital photo. So I ordered an 8 x 10 canvas print of Allen wrapped around a 1-inch frame. It’s the photo you see at the top of the show notes. It didn’t cost much at all and it was done in 45 minutes. All I had to do was pick it up at the Walgreen's only a few miles away.
A few days later I put it in a small gift bag and took it over to Carol and Haily’s house. I was a little apprehensive because I thought what if they moved and someone else is living in at the address I had for them? I didn’t want to call or email, so I took a chance and drove it over there.
Once I got to the house I recognized the van Allen used to take Haily places, which made my concern evaporate.
Nobody's homeI rang the front doorbell, but there was no answer, so I went to the side of the house along the driveway looking for another door. At the back of the house I found a door that had a ramp attached to it, which I assumed was where they got Haily into and out of the house. I couldn’t get to the door because the ramp was up about 3 feet off the ground, so I placed the gift bag with the photo on the ramp. It seemed safe to leave it there, as there was no rain or snow in the forecast and surely Carol would find it. So I left.
But then on the way home, I wondered if she would find it. What if she and Haily were out of town? Maybe I should call or email Carol. I tried both, but there was no answer to my call, and I had the wrong email address. This is nuts, I thought. Just let it go. She’ll find it. Move on to the other things you’ve got going.
You never know how the little things we do will bless othersThe next day I received a message at 1:35 pm through our podcast website
from Carol. She gave me permission to share it with you. The subject line read “A Thankful Heart,” and the body of her message reads as follows:
Just want to tell you how much you blessed me by such a wonderful act of kindness that the Lord knew I much needed. It has been hard lately, getting older alone and taking care of Hailey alone and trying so hard to be what God would want me to be for such a time as this.
I opened it and sat and cried, but they were good tears. Dale called (that’s one of her kids) and soon we were both crying - thank you so much for remembering myself and Allen. I miss him more than words could convey, he was such a good man. He is missed each and every day.
That wonderful picture will be on my fireplace forever. I was going to call you, but it is hard to talk with the tears that keep coming. It will be 3 years on March 7th, but feels like so long and yet just yesterday. I can't wait to see him again. l pray the Lord bless you both as you have blessed me.~ God bless you, love Carol and Hailey
Then a few hours later on my way out the door for an appointment, Carol called to thank me verbally for the print of Allen. She was a little choked up and through her tears told me again how much she appreciated what I did.
How neighbors remember AllenHer grief was palpable as she told me several stories from neighbors about the impact Allen had on them. One was from a woman who couldn’t get her snowblower started, and when Allen noticed it he offered to fix it. He went and got the needed parts to get it up and running. After he fixed it she offered to pay him, but Allen wouldn’t accept any money.
Another time Allen noticed a neighbor was having a hard time straightening up a small wall that had fallen in his backyard. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” the neighbor said. But Allen did. So he spent the better part of a day helping the man with his problem, and again he wouldn’t accept any payment for his troubles.
“I like helping people,” Allen told the neighbor.
These two stories are just samples of how Allen blessed others. What were little things to him, these acts of service that came naturally for him, were things that greatly impacted people. Things they were willing to pay for.
I mentioned to Carol that the thing that struck me the most in her message to me was when she said he was such a good man. He is missed each and every day.
Allen and Joseph, father of JesusI said that her phrase “he was such a good man” is the way Matthew, the Gospel writer, describes Joseph, the early father of Jesus. He was a good man too. And Joseph was quiet, also. Just like Allen. He was a behind-the-scenes kind of guy, just like Allen. They were both cut from the same cloth.
One of my all-time favorite episodes of this podcast is one I did a few years ago at Christmas, number 135 entitled Christmas with a Good Man Brings Joy. It’s about Joseph, and now that I know more about Allen, it’s about men like him, too. I’ll have a link to it at the bottom of the show notes.
What I learnedThis episode about Allen has taught me a few things. Here are some of them:
I’ll close with an updated version of the main point of episode 135, it’s the one I mentioned about Joseph, the father of Jesus:
A good man is hard to find. But they’re out there, men like Allen often in the background, not saying much. Their character and behavior tell us more than their words. Look for them. Be like them.
ClosingAs we close up shop for today, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to do something small for someone. Something that comes easily and naturally for you.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. Like Allen did. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows135: Christmas with a Good Man Brings Joy
139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast?
021: The Most Important Relationship of All
The prior and most recent episode211: A Men’s Breakfast Like No Other
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
DonatePlease consider donating to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world. You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here.
You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
A men’s breakfast can be fun and still have a greater purpose than eating and conversation. When organized with a larger objective in mind it can be a great way to bless people and a means to live out the Gospel.
Today’s episode is about my Men with Waffles breakfast and the impact it had on others not even in the room. Especially women.
Breakfast with a friendA few weeks ago my friend Randy was in town for the Christmas holiday. We used to go to the same church, but his job change meant a move to Pittsburgh. He and his wife are still closely connected with friends they have back in Wisconsin where I live, and they try to get back here at least once a year to see everyone.
Before Randy got to town he texted me and asked if we could meet during his Christmas visit to Wisconsin. It’s always an invitation I cannot turn down. So we got together for breakfast one morning. We caught up on each other’s lives in ways that seemed like he had never moved away, even though it’s been almost 9 years. That’s the way it is with good friends you haven’t seen in a while.
When it came time to order, I chose eggs. Randy ordered a waffle.
This unimportant event reminded me of waffles in a more significant context that Randy and I were part of several years ago. I’ll you about it. It’s my Men with Waffles story.
This calls for a men's breakfastIt happened during the time I was teaching an adult Sunday school class at our church. Randy and his wife Kathy were part of that class. My story picks up after the class took a break for Christmas one year. We resumed shortly after the new year, and at the beginning of that first class of the year, we chatted about how everyone’s Christmas went. It was then we all discovered something unusual.
Five men in our class of about 30-35 received a waffle maker for a Christmas gift. All of the waffle maker recipients were husbands, which to me seemed a high parentage of the class to have received this uncommon Christmas gift. I don’t think any of the wives collaborated on these gifts for their husbands.
Although I did hear a rumor of an unmarked white box car parked near the church one day, selling shrimp, pictures of Elvis on black velvet, and … waffle makers. It’s just a rumor, so don’t quote me on it.
Anyway, here we have 5 guys with brand-new waffle makers. It just seemed fitting that we needed to do something to note this out-of-the-ordinary event. So I talked it over with my wife, Janet, and got her okay to host a men’s breakfast at our house where the 5 men with their new waffle makers would bring them and make waffles for all the guys in our class.
Event planningWe set a date for a Saturday morning that most all of the men could attend. Those with the waffle makers were to bring them and all the necessary ingredients to serve everyone. In addition to waffle batter, guys brought fresh strawberries, whipped cream, sausages, and orange juice. I supplied coffee, plates, and utensils.
It was a feast!
In planning for this men's breakfast, I wanted to add a little structure to it that went beyond just men with waffles sitting around and talking for a few hours about what men usually talk about when women aren’t around. You know, their children, their mother, and what they were making for supper that night. Things like that.
So here’s what I did. I set up an easel with a flip chart with pages of blank butcher paper about 2½ by 3’ in size. And before we started the waffle extravaganza, I said to the guys something along the lines of
Sometime this morning, in between eating your waffles, I’d like each of you to come over to this easel, take a marker and write down on the butcher paper one thing you appreciate about your wife. One sheet of paper per guy, then rip off the paper when you’re done. When we finish eating we’ll go around and each person gets to share what they wrote.
With that, the waffle-making commenced. I thought the men who were not making waffles would come over right away to write something on the paper. They didn’t. not one.
Was this men's breakfast a mistake?“Oh great, I thought. This is surely going to bomb. They just want their waffles and nothing more. What was I thinking? How embarrassing. What a dumb idea.”
Well, at least the waffle makers will get a proper inauguration, and everyone will be fed, I thought. I must say, the waffles with all the trimmings were magnificent! My friend Randy was there and he will testify to it. They were far more impressive than the waffle he ordered at our recent breakfast.
I made sure to take photos of the whole event. I’d be happy to show them to you after dinner at your house sometime. Wednesdays work best for me, though I’m flexible. The last time I mentioned this one of our listeners actually had Janet and me for a delicious soup supper. It was on a Saturday evening, so you see I am flexible.
Anyway, as we were eating and talking I tried not to think about how no one was going over to the easel to write anything. But then to my relief, the guys did start to trickle over to the easel to do what I asked, like slow drops of water dripping off an icicle on your roof when its 34 degrees outside.
What husbands wroteSlowly, one by one they came. Each one writing down one thing they appreciated about their wife, then ripping off the paper and rolling it up to take with them.
As we finished eating our waffles (did I mention it was a gastronomic delight?) and then cleaning up the kitchen, we found our way into our living room. With everyone seated, I then asked each guy to show what they wrote.
Mike wrote, “I appreciate how Vicki plans fun things and makes everything more fun!”
Bill wrote, “I love Rachel’s tender lovingkindness”
Scott’s butcher paper read in big bold letters, “I appreciate how Marci makes me laugh after a stressful day t work.”
Dick wrote this about his wife, “I appreciate Kathy for her loving and caring nature.”
Gregg’s sheet of paper read, “I appreciate Marian’s sense of adventure and insights into relationships.”
Another Mike in our group wrote, “I appreciate Gail’s sense of humor and her ability to make me laugh.”
Brad wrote, “I appreciate Elizabeth’s steadiness and her reality check.”
Randy, our friend who later moved to Pittsburgh, wrote, “I appreciate Kathy’s genuine faith and her love for our daughter Molly.”
And then I wrote, “I appreciate Janet’s sky blue eyes, her wisdom, and her love for our kids and grandchildren.
There was one more from Allen, which I will tell you about in a minute.
After everyone shared what they appreciated about their wives, guys hung around for a while and then left.
The men’s breakfast aftermathWith everyone gone, I then went through all the photos I took and arranged them in a slide presentation to show the next morning in our Sunday School class so the wives could see what their husbands wrote. There were photos of making the waffles, candid shots of men sitting around talking, and most importantly, an individual photo of each husband holding up a large piece of paper on which he wrote something he appreciated about his wife.
To the photos in the slideshow, I added a soundtrack. A recording of the late Nat King Cole singing “Unforgettable,” with his daughter Natalie Cole dubbed in to accompany him to create a romantic ballad duet.
So imagine you’re a woman in this class and you see this slide presentation of what these men wrote, accompanied by Natalie Cole and her late father singing “Unforgettable.”
So many “oohs” and “ah’s.” The loudest of which came at the end when the photo of Allen appeared and what he appreciated about his wife. Allen was a man of few words. I think it’s fair to say he was the quietest man in our church. On his butcher paper he wrote in large bold letters simply, “I appreciate Carol.”
He couldn’t bring himself to name just one thing he appreciated about his wife, it was Carol in her totality that he appreciated. The ladies loved it.
A men’s breakfast with a purposeNow you might be thinking why would I do such a thing? I mean what does our men with waffles breakfast have to do with church and studying the bible? My answer is everything. Everything in the 12th chapter of the Book of Romans, especially verse 10 where the apostle Paul writes, “Love each other with genuine affection and take delight in honoring each other.”
Our class had been studying Romans 12 and what we did at our men with waffles breakfast was one way we could honor the wives in our class - to express what we appreciate about them.
So how about you?There are so many ways we can honor people. It benefits the other person, certainly. But it also can bring a measure of delight into the person doing the honoring.
It’s another way to spread a little relational sunshine around the people we meet. It sparks joy in both them and you. Above all, it reflects the character of God. It’s part of God’s character to bless us, to affirm us, and we can do the same thing with others.
And you don’t have to organize a men's breakfast like I did. You can honor someone like Randy did with me by saying, “Hey, you want to get together? I’d like to spend some time with you.” It’s that simple. And it’s that profound.
ClosingAs we close up shop for today, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to think of a way you can bless and honor someone by telling them what you appreciate about them.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And of course, especially this week, don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows172: How to Develop Deeper Relationships
139: Why Should I Listen to This Podcast?
021: The Most Important Relationship of All
Prior and most recent episode210: Word of the Year for 2024: Curious
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry.
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CURIOUS. It’s my pick for the 2024 Word of the Year. Curious. It’s an important relational skill we need to help us deepen our relationships with others.
Today’s episode is about what happens when we’re not curious about people, and what we can do about it to strengthen our relational curiosity muscles that will enrich our relationships.
But before we get into today’s episode, here’s what this podcast is all about.
Welcome to You Were Made for ThisIf you find yourself wanting more from your relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here you’ll discover practical principles you can use to experience the life-giving relationships you were made for.
I’m your host, John Certalic, award-winning author and relationship coach, here to help you find more joy in the relationships God designed for you.
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Missed opportunities when we’re not curious about peopleI’m just about finished reading David Brooks’ latest book, How to Know a Person - The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen. He’s a columnist for The New York Times and The Atlantic, and also a commentator you see every now on then on the PBS NewsHour.
I’m really enjoying his book and gave several copies of it to family members this past Christmas. At some point down the road I’ll do a review of the whole book, but for now, I’ll mention one paragraph that jumped out at me. The author tells the story of what happened to him at a dinner party when he was engaged in conversation with some interesting people.
Brooks mentioned conversations like this come naturally to him because his job as a journalist involves interviewing people, asking them questions, and otherwise drawing them out. After the party on the way home, he was reflecting on the conversations he had. And while they were certainly fascinating, they left him feeling empty.
He commented that here he was asking all kinds of questions of these interesting people, but no one was curious about anything in his life. No one asked him any questions at all. Not one. Nada. Zilch.
He didn’t mention it in this context, but Brooks as a columnist for two world-class publications, the author of several best-selling books, and a TV commentator - has lived a fascinating life himself. He’s traveled the world in connection with his job and has interviewed several US presidents and rulers of other countries. Yet no one was curious to ask him any questions.
How sad for Brooks, and even sadder for the people he engaged with at the party. They missed out.
“I’m curious about them, but they’re not with me”Shortly after I read this section in Brooks’ book, one of my grandsons shared a similar story. A few months ago he started his first job out of college in a position he really loves. Plus, he is enjoying getting to know the people he works with. He is much younger than any of his colleagues, but they have taken him under their wings. Two women in particular go walking together on their lunch hour and they invited my grandson to join them. He describes his relationship with these ladies like this:
“I don’t think they realize how much younger I am than them [he’s 21]. They’re probably in their late 30s or early 40s and have been doing the same job I’m doing for a dozen years or so. They’re both moms with young kids in school. And they tell me about all the drama that goes on in their families with their kids. They’re fun people and I enjoy the time we walk together.
“But they don’t know one thing about me. They never ask me anything about my life.”
My grandson is a genuinely curious person. He’s always asking me questions about what’s going on in my life, and I can easily picture him asking his colleagues about theirs. He’s quite an engaging person so I can see why they invited him on their walks. These are good people he works with, but they’re missing out on learning how a person so different from themselves experiences the world.
“I’ve even killed people”Then there’s my friend Dick at our church.
We’re a small group, about 25 of us. As part of our Sunday morning service, after the sermon we discuss what the preacher talked about. The discussions are often lively and quite interesting as people share their experiences as they relate to the sermon.
One Sunday not too long ago, the post-sermon discussion centered on the grace of God. Our little congregation has varying levels of understanding about this topic, based on what people experienced in other churches they’ve attended in the past.
Near the end of this particular discussion, my friend Dick chimed in. He’s in frail health, walks with a cane, and has breathing and balance difficulties. He comes to church with a caregiver who looks after him. When he arrives a couple of the women in our group always give him a big hug. His smile lights up the room when they do. Anyway, in a moment of vulnerability here’s what Dick said in our discussion:
“I’m 94 years old and all the things people have just shared are things I’ve been through myself, and more. But no one ever asks me about them. I mean, I’ve even killed people.”
It was a sad moment. A sad moment for our church because Dick has wisdom and experience to share if only people were curious enough to ask. Just saying this reminds me I need to act on my curiosity and engage with Dick more. I’m certainly interested in his perspective on the spiritual issues we talk about on Sunday morning, but I’m also curious about his personal life. He grew up during the Depression of the 1930s and I wonder what that was like for him. Oh, and then there’s that small matter of his comment, “I’ve even killed people.”
A different kind of law professorI’ll leave you with one last story about being curious. It’s a positive one about
another grandson of mine. Our family was together on Christmas Day and we were catching up on each other’s lives. My grandson George had just completed his first semester of law school and we were asking him how it went. He talked about each of his courses and the professors who taught them. One of his professors in particular impressed me. George explained him like this:
“He memorized every one of our names, and there were 75 of us in the class. He taught two other classes and he did the same thing for those, too.
“Then he had each of us come to his office individually over the course of the semester for a short meeting. He said he just wanted to get to know us better. He asked us about our personal lives, our interests, things like that.
“And we got to ask him questions, too. I asked him how he got interested in law in the first place. Then I found out he had a couple of young children, and he told me about his wife, her love of plants, and that he was a big Green Bay Packers fan. No other professor does this. He’s ranked #2 of all the law school professors on that student-rated website.”
I’m really happy George has someone like this in his life, and I hope he gets this same professor again for another class. Not just because he was curious enough to find out more about George as a person, but also because he modeled for him what a relationally intelligent person does. They are curious about the lives of people they interact with.
But if I’m curious and ask people questions won’t they think I’m being nosy?I’ll let David Brooks answer this question from his book I mentioned earlier, How to Know a Person. In his chapter entitled “The Right Questions” he writes,
“While doing research for this book, I interviewed many people - seminar leaders, conversation facilitators, psychologists and focus group moderators, biographers and journalists - whose job is to ask people about their lives. I asked these experts how often somebody looks back at them and says,
‘None of your d- - - business.’ Every expert I consulted had basically the same answer: ‘Almost never.’”
The author goes on to say, “A 2012 study by Harvard neuroscientists found that people often took more pleasure from sharing information about themselves than from receiving money.” Let that thought sink in for a moment. People often took more pleasure from sharing information about themselves than from receiving money.
Brooks concludes with “Over the course of my career as a journalist I, too, have found that if you respectfully ask people about themselves, they will answer with candor that takes your breath away.
“Studs Terkel was a journalist who collected oral histories over his long career in Chicago. He’d ask people big questions and then sit back and let their answers unfold. ‘Listen, listen, listen, listen, and if you do, people will talk,’ he once observed. ‘They always talk. Why? Because no one has ever listened to them before in all their lives. Perhaps they’ve not ever listened to themselves.’
“Each person is a mystery. And when you are surrounded by mysteries, as the saying goes, it’s best to live life in the form of a question.”
What a beautiful way of describing such a profound observation about the human condition. It takes my breath away.
So what about you?How curious are you about the people in your life, and do you act on that curiosity? For me, I know now that I need to act on my curiosity about Dick, my 94-year-old-friend from church. I’ve got to find out where his “I’ve killed people” comment comes from. Not just for my benefit, but for his. There’s a story locked up within him somewhere that needs to get out to see the light of day.
Imagine what the world would be like if we were all a little more curious about each other. I’m convinced we’d all live deeper and richer lives.
So there you have it for the word of the year for 2024. Curious.
I’ll be coming back to this word and relational skill in future episodes this year. For now, though, at the bottom of the show notes I’ve listed links to past episodes that touch up the topic of curiosity that you might want to check out.
ClosingIn closing, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about today’s episode. I hope your thinking was stimulated by today’s show, to become more curious about the people around you, and then to act on that curiosity.
For when you do, it will help you experience the joy of relationships God desires for you. Because after all, You Were Made for This.
Well, that’s it for today. If there’s someone in your life you think might like to hear what you just heard, please forward this episode on to them. Scroll down to the bottom of the show notes and click on one of the options in the yellow “Share This” bar.
And don’t forget to spread a little relational sunshine around the people you meet this week. Spark some joy for them. And I’ll see you again next time. Goodbye for now.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows062: Vaccine Now Available for this Relational Virus
063: Six Reasons Why We’re Not More Curious About People
073: Could Curiosity About Others Minimize Racism?
The most recent episodes209: The Christmas Story in 2023
208: Christmas - A Time to Reflect
All past and future episodes JohnCertalic.com
Our SponsorYou Were Made for This is sponsored by Caring for Others, a missionary care ministry. Please consider making a donation to help cover the costs associated with this podcast and the other services we provide missionaries around the world.
You can make a tax-deductible contribution to Caring for Others when you click here. You can also contribute by clicking on the yellow "Donate" box in the upper right corner at the top of the first page.
When you get right down to it, the only thing that really matters in the Christmas story in 2023 is Jesus. No Santa, gifts, or Bing Crosby. Just Jesus.
Here's the original story as recorded in Luke's Gospel, just as it happened. I am reading from The Message, by Eugene Peterson. Luke 2: 1-20
The Birth of JesusAbout that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David’s town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.
While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. She gave birth to a son, her firstborn. She wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in a manger, because there was no room in the hostel.
An Event for EveryoneThere were shepherds camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God’s angel stood among them and God’s glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”
At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God’s praises:
Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.
As the angel choir withdrew into heaven, the shepherds talked it over. “Let’s get over to Bethlehem as fast as we can and see for ourselves what God has revealed to us.” They left, running, and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. Seeing was believing. They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard the shepherds were impressed.
Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself. The shepherds returned and let loose, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen. It turned out exactly the way they’d been told!
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Merry Christmas 2023, everyone.
Other episodes or resources related to today’s shows208: Christmas - A Time to Reflect
207: How to Help the People We Love at Christmas
Blog post: The Joy of Christmas Past
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