February 2014


We got about seven inches of snow just north of Atlanta last week.  That’s enough to shut the city down for a week.  Fortunately, we didn’t have people stranded in their cars overnight like we did during our last winter storm. 

I have managers coming in from all over the country to attend some training that I am leading, so I spent my snow days in the basement working.  One morning, I came upstairs around 8am for a cup of coffee.  Sara was sleeping in.  I looked out the window to find my kids doing this with no supervision.

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This morning was like most.  I got up, worked out, showered, and started making breakfast.  Amelia strolled down the steps as she usually does asking, “Will you get me some bweakfast?”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Cereal.”

“What kind?”

“I want the new one.”

We go through this just about every morning.  The girls already have about four different kinds of cereal open, and I take the hard-line that they can’t open a new one until they finish the ones that are already open.  Yet every morning, they ask if they can have a new kind… often without even knowing what the “new kind” is.

I think we do this a lot as adults too.  The allure of the new and novel is so tempting that we desire to have it even if what we already have may actually be better.

Instead, maybe we should ask how to get the most out of what we already have.  A long time ago in a cathedral in Florence, Italy, a flawed piece of marble lay unused.  For nearly 100 years, it was considered useless due to its imperfections and no one had any plan to do anything with it.  Finally, a young sculptor measured the block of marble and noted its imperfections.  In his mind, he envisioned a young shepherd boy.

The young sculptor spent the next three years chiseling the marble based on what he envisioned it could be.  You probably already guessed it, but the young sculptor was Michelangelo (not the ninja turtle) and the sculpture was the well-known statue of David.

We are surrounded by flawed pieces of marble… we may even be flawed pieces of marble, but with some vision, hard work, and dedication, we can create masterpieces.