I have the privilege and responsibility of working with many leaders. We pull them away from their day-to-day environments, put them in front of their teams and talk about the V word: vulnerability. It’s a privilege because they allow us into a very sacred space. It’s a huge responsibility because we have to help facilitate conversations that could easily go off the rails or make things worse as leaders test the limits of their vulnerability.
To help get things going we often ask leaders a very simple, yet profound question: “What is a unique challenge you experienced growing up that helped shape you into who you are today?” I’ve asked that question to countless leaders and teams and been shocked at the answers. As they say, “truth is stranger than fiction.” We hear everything from A to Z and could never predict what comes out. And while those stories are unique to each individual there are some clear patterns that emerge. I have never kept tabs or taken notes (out of respect for the privacy of others) but I would say a majority of the stories center around relationships with parents. And a majority of those center around fathers. And a majority of those stories about fathers are pretty negative.
This steady cycle of scathing father stories was pleasantly interrupted when I started working with a special guy named Keith Hadley. Keith and I met in downtown Chicago in the early part of 2016 when he joined our consulting practice. We dove right into the work together and found ourselves to be kindred spirits. And right off the bat I heard Keith tell lots of ‘great stories’ about his Dad. He would say enthusiastically, “Ok everyone, like my dad used to say ‘let’s turn these problems into projects!’” In fact it became quite common for Keith to start a sentence with, “Like my Dad used to say…” or “Like my Dad used to do…” I remember asking silently in my head after a while, “Who is this guy that Keith keeps raving about?!?” Each trip, each team, each day revealed new dad stories from leaders and new dad stories from Keith.
Our evenings between sessions are sacred as we use the time to refuel, reflect, and refine our “schtick” as Keith would call it. I recall one evening after a day with a team that I sat across the table from Keith at a quaint restaurant in Philadelphia. I leaned in and asked him, “Have you noticed how many ‘dad stories’ we hear in our work?” He shook his head in agreement. Then I asked, “And have you noticed how most of those stories are pretty bad?” He tilted his head and thought about it as did I. I pulled out a napkin and wrote down the words that were used to describe the Dads we heard about: loser, drunk, crazy, criminal, lazy, unfaithful, villain, and more. He confirmed the list as he pondered. And then I asked “Do these stories reflect how broken these dads are or how broken the hearts are that tell those stories…or maybe both?” I think I was subconsciously asking this because of all the great stories Keith was telling about his dad.
Keith and I talked about our dads and our stories that night. We don’t mind the hard questions about the “complexity” (ref Keith’s stories) we experience in our life and work. And we try to sharpen each other, not only as professionals but as brothers in Christ. That night I used the word ‘lens’ to describe the way we see our lives and our fathers. That term stuck with me and I pondered how the lens we have affects the stories we tell. I wanted to learn more about Keith’s lens about his dad. The conversation that night led to many other conversations between me, Keith, and many others I as I tried to make sense of things. It sparked many visits between me and my Dad that have been the best of my life. And those conversations continue to this day. Based on Keith’s influence in my life and other things God has used I’ve learned to tell better stories about my Dad and help other people do the same.
Along the years of that journey I passed through Glenn Ellyn, IL and Chez Hadley many times. I toured Keith’s childhood home that included stops at Glenbard West High School, the Lake Ellyn trail, the Blackberry Market, and the back porch with one of Keith’s homemade cappuccinos. All these created special experiences that remind me so much of the stories he told. I often say visiting his house is like walking inside a Norman Rockwell painting. And, of course, during my travels there I met the famous Paul Hadley. But, by the time I actually met Paul, I felt like I knew him already through Keith’s stories. It seemed like he quoted his dad every other meeting I had with him. And every story was told with a smile on his face or even laughing to himself with joy as he told it. So, meeting his dad, seeing that same smile, and feeling that firm handshake was like reaching inside one of those paintings and shaking hands with a famous character.
After leaving Keith’s home each time, I have to admit, I would experience some dissonance. How do I reconcile these extremes? On the one hand I hear so many scathing father stories. And, yet here’s this other picture that almost seems an impossible opposite. That picture came to life when Keith sent me a volume of stories he wrote about his dad. He sent it to me days before his dad’s memorial service. So it’s hard to describe my emotions that day as I was looking at my airline confirmation to attend Paul Hadley’s funeral in one tab on my iPad, Keith’s stories in another, and CNN headlines in another describing a world sorely lacking good fathers. How I do I process the legacy of Paul Hadley? What lens can I use?
I think a few truths hit me square in the face that help form my lens.
– First, I know Paul Hadley was a uniquely great man. And, now with Jesus in glory he is an even greater man who awaits a final reunion with his son Keith at a heavenly banquet. I believe the stories with all my heart. That’s the great thing about Keith’s stories. They are true! I love how Keith paints so much detail that reveal the countless acts of strength, integrity, and courage his father displayed during his 90 years with us on this side of heaven.
– Second, I know that there are other men, like me, who have abandoned their post, made foolish choices, and affected men and women who strive to be leaders today. I don’t for one second invalidate the pain that I’ve seen on the faces of so many as they have told their stories to me. Not everyone’s dad is like Keith’s. And that’s ok to admit. But the last truth is perhaps the most powerful.
– The most important lens I’ve found is Keith’s heart. I think Keith’s heart is full of so much grace and love that he can see the best in people and perpetuate that “vital optimism” (ref Keith’s stories) he describes in his stories about his dad and others. I think this is where we find the reconciliation and redemption we so desperately need in this world. Because I know Paul did not live a perfect life. But, his son Keith tells near perfect stories about him. And I love that! The legacy is not just a life well lived, but a love between a father and a son that carries that legacy. The stories are larger-than-life because God’s grace in Keith’s heart is larger-than-life. It has been given to him by our God who is the great Author and Hero and Father of the greatest story ever told. And His story is one of grace and mercy and redemption through His Son Jesus Christ. So why should I be surprised that a son like Keith would tell great stories about a father like Paul if they both have a God like ours?!?
If you have a great dad like Paul Hadley, praise God! Read Keith’s stories and I’ll bet you’ll laugh and cry (like me) and think of your own. Call your dad toady (if you can) and tell him a story or ask him to tell you one. Maybe tell one to your son or a friend about your dad. If you didn’t have a great dad like Keith did, I’d still recommend you read Keith’s stories all the more. I’d love to hope that more sons have dads like Paul. But I also hope that there are more sons who honor their dads like Keith regardless of the circumstances. So, I pray some of the grace and mercy in his heart fills yours and perhaps breaks open something powerful. And if you are the many who are likely somewhere in between, I pray the pages of his stories hit the lens in your heart with the light of their truth and lead to many, many more great stories about dads. Our world needs better dads. And our world needs better stories from sons!
In our rational culture we value facts and data and history. And we often litigate the history of our families in many conversations at home and at work. But, the history we live doesn’t determine the stories we tell. The stories we tell reveal lives we choose to live. And the lens in our hearts can make the difference. I love to look through Keith’s lens. It’s Paul’s legacy. It’s Keith’s legacy. And it’s the legacy of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the world! For all who read these stories we get to share in that legacy too. Thank you Paul! Thank you Keith! Thank you God!
