Rule 7 – Take your kids to church instead of sending them to church.

Some of the earliest memories I have of my childhood involve going to church. Sunday school with Ms. Irene Creekmore telling Bible stories with paper cut outs on a felt story board, singing “Deep and Wide” with the rest of the kids in front of the church, church ladies fanning themselves with cheap paper fans imprinted with images of the Last Supper and the stately, baritone sermons of a white haired, grandfatherly pastor named Mose Bryum. I remember these and I remember something else; my dad sitting beside me in church.

Even if he had worked the graveyard shift on Saturday night, Dad would come in, get cleaned up, and drive us to church. Back then, jeans and t-shirts on Sunday morning were unheard of; children wore “church clothes” every Sunday, and Mom always made sure that our hair was combed, our ties were straight, and our shoelaces were tied. Dad kept our shoes shined, and would make sure we didn’t get them dirty by carrying us in from the gravel parking lot. Our feet never hit the ground from the car until we were inside the church.  

I remember his arm around me, his hand on my knee. I’d turn his hand palm up in my lap and trace the lines, calluses and scars I found there. I didn’t realize it at the time, and he probably didn’t either, but Bud was living an example of the love of God the Father, letting me experience that presence in a flesh and blood way, in a way that a child can understand. God says through the prophet Isaiah that He has “graven us on the palms of His hands”, and as I heard about God’s provision for me, I saw it in the landscape of my father’s hands. I will never forget that. He showed me that he saw worship with the church body as a priority.  It shaped who I am.

I think that’s important for a man to take that initiative because it’s our job to take care of our children, mind, body and soul. I believe one of the biggest problems we see in families today is the absence of a good, Godly man that is a living example of God’s love to his own children. Watch any talk show or news story dealing with teen crime or children out of control, and look for the common denominator; where’s the father?

Walk into most churches today, and you will see that the majority of the adults attending are women. Why? Well, part of it is the fault of church itself. Churches need to do a better job of getting men involved. I know back in the day, my dad and a lot of other men did the building maintenance, the cleaning and the landscaping. There were things to do; things to keep guys busy. Of course there are still things to do, but now, it’s just easier to hire some one than to look for volunteers. The trouble is, men need something to be involved with, or they lose interest.

But men are also inherently lazy, and if they think that the kids are being taken care of, they will let someone else do it. It’s easy to stay at home, go fishing, golfing, work on the car, etc., while the wife or the grandparents take the kids to church. But we have to make the effort guys- our sons look to us to know how to be men and our daughters look to us to know what to expect from men. They learn from us, and judge their own worth by the amount of time you take to spend with them. Don’t put it off- your children are growing up QUICK. I know you’re busy- we all are. But, it’s easy to lose an entire generation while we’re in the process of getting our own lives together.

So take the time guys. Get up on Sunday morning and take your children to church. Be the pastor, priest and protector of your family. Don’t wait until there are older. Don’t let someone else do it. It’s your job, your responsibility. Every child comes into this world as a blank page. Somebody will write on that page- guaranteed. Nature abhors a vacuum, and the page will get filled with something. Words of wisdom or garbage graffiti; something will fill them up. When the page has been filled, it’s too late to squeeze your influence into the picture. Are you going to do it, or let someone else?

Rule 6 - Work smarter or work harder, but get up and go to work. A man needs to provide.

The majority of my life growing up, Bud Wilson worked graveyard shift, or 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. That meant that I watched him roll out of bed around nine every night, eat supper/breakfast (it’s a confusing lifestyle), shave, dress and breeze out the door by ten. While we slept, he worked. I would not appreciate that sacrifice until much later in my life, when I too adopted the “midnight” shift as my own for several years. While there are advantages, there are many disadvantages too. You miss a lot of your family’s life, as you try to catch a few hours of precious sleep. You never get “good” rest; it wears your mind and your body out prematurely. You live on caffeine, sugar and grease; you run on empty more than you care to admit. I have often wondered how many days of Dad’s life may have been shortened by shift work; I’ve wondered the same for myself.

At the time, I thought Dad made good money working in a union plant for a major automobile company. After he was gone, I ran across some of his pay stubs, and realized that what I thought was “big money” was just a modest living wage for a family of five. Dad worked hard for that, and I don’t know that I ever thanked him enough.

Even during the day, when Bud could have been getting some rest, he often spent his time fixing fences, working in tobacco and hauling hay. He kept the farm where we grew up in pristine condition, cleaning the underbrush from the wood lots and bush hogging the pastures. He enjoyed work, and for him it gave great satisfaction.

I learned that life lesson from him growing up and now that my children are grown, I can see that the work ethic passed through, even though I didn’t know it at the time. My son worked a variety of jobs from the time he was ten years old until his untimely death. My daughter worked throughout high school, and now as a stay at home mom, she provides a domestic environment that is clean, warm and inviting. Her husband is a solid father and provider and I’m proud of them all.

Why is this important? Because a solid work ethic is a lost art in the world we live in today. As I write these words, there are people camped in every major city in this country to “occupy” business and government, expecting a job, benefits, the cancellation of debt- you name it. An even larger number of people feel the same way; they just lack the initiative to even sit in the cold and demand a handout.

Please understand; I know times are hard. I know that people are frustrated. But we have to be willing to work for what we get. It’s not just a principle of capitalism; it’s a principle of faith. The first thing God gave Adam was a job as a gardener. He had to work, even before the fall of man. He just had to break a sweat after the curse of sin. Likewise, Proverbs says to consider the ant, in its working ways, and Paul says that if a man doesn’t work, he doesn’t eat. More importantly, he also said that a man that doesn’t care for his family is worse than an unbeliever and unworthy of the Christian faith. The idea of a solid work ethic is pervasive throughout the Bible.

This world needs a people that are willing to work for what they have. This country needs a work ethic in order to succeed. Your family needs you- it’s your responsibility. You; not the government, the church or your parents- You.

If you want to be successful, work is the way to do it. Yogi Berra said, “The harder I work, the luckier I get.” That’s very true. Publisher’s Clearing House is probably not coming to your house with a check. I’m not saying you have to dig ditches for a living; but find something that you are good at and do it.

A lot of people are looking for their dream job, but believe me, sometimes you have to learn to love what you do. I think we set our kids up for disappointment sometimes when we ask them, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Because really, it’s more about what you have to be than what you want to be; after all, there are only so many baseball players and ballerinas.

So if you work, be proud of what you do. Putting shoes on your children’s feet, a roof over their head and food on the table is God’s way of showing them His love through you. It’s gratifying and satisfying. We were made to love and made to live. But we were also made to work. 

Rule 5 - Faith in God doesn’t have to be complicated, as long as it’s real.

Dad was not a theologian. He wasn’t a preacher or a deacon, and I can’t really tell you about any deep meaningful talks about spiritual matters we had with each other. I would like to tell you that Dad spoke in lofty, ecclesiastical language, but he didn’t- not even close. He was a southern country man, with southern country ways, including a salty word here and there, when not in mixed company. He was a common man; perhaps the quintessential common man.  But one thing I can tell you; Bud Wilson was a Christian. I know it because I saw it. I know it because I saw Jesus in his life in a very simple, practical way. Blue collar Christianity- the kind that gets its hands dirty; the kind that applies to real life. That’s the kind of faith I saw in my father.

Bud Wilson had the kind of faith that got up in the middle of the night and gave some stranger’s stranded car a boost. He had the kind of faith that respected his parents and honored them. He feared God and took great offense when anyone within earshot “took God’s name in vain”. He was quick to break a garden for a neighbor and help the older folks in the community plant a crop or repair a fence. He sang loud in church, and testified with tears in his eyes. In fact, his tears were never far from the surface; he was very tender hearted. He said grace at every meal.

One of my fondest memories of Dad was just a few years before he left us. I had been invited to sing during a revival at the church where he was saved when he was sixteen. We sat on the pew where he had prayed so many years before, and at the end of the service, he stood and gave his beautiful, simple testimony. With tears in his eyes, he described how he had sat on that pew, in that spot, and how God had convicted him during just such a revival. He remembered the night; moreover, he remembered how he felt that night. Sixty years had passed, but he had not forgotten what the still, small voice of God sounded like.

That’s the kind of faith that matters. That’s the kind of faith that makes more of a difference than long, flowery “King James” prayers, a big check in the offering plate, or a seminary education. Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of men and women just like Bud with a simple, genuine faith in Jesus. They make up the Body of Christ. Abraham Lincoln said, “God must love common people; he made so many of them.” I’d have to say that’s true, because He not only made so many, He saved so many.

I’ve been in some form of ministry or another for about thirty years. During that time, I’ve had a lot of deep, theological discussions about just about every major doctrinal debate you can think of; eternal security, baptism, the gifts of the Holy Ghost, end times- you name it. But none of those topics had ever really inspired me the way that the lyrics of “Amazing Grace” can, when sung by some little old lady with a quavering, off key sincerity that can’t be debated, questioned or explained. Real faith doesn’t have to be complicated- it just needs to be genuine.

When we stand before God, I believe that we will all find out that there are a number of ideas we have about Him and His ways that are wrong. On that day, I also happen to believe that God really won’t care how you got baptized, what church you belonged to, or what your position was on foot washing. On that day, it’s going to come down to the basics:

Did you trust Jesus as your Savior?

Did you love others as you love yourself?

Did you do the best you could with what God gave you to work with?

On that day, the simplicity of faith will win. Life’s hard enough- God never intended salvation to be difficult as well. It’s a gift, after all. Thanks Dad, for teaching me that.

Rule 4 - Some people can tell a joke, some can’t. If you can, treasure that gift; it is rare.

There are a lot of things I remember about my father. I remember the smell of his aftershave (Skin Bracer), look and feel of his hands and the way he answered the telephone. (He didn’t say hello, he said, “Alright.”) I remember his gruff baritone growl, the look he gave someone when he was angry, and the fact that one of his eyes got a little lazy when he was tired. (Thanks for that genetic trait, Dad. I see it in about half the pictures taken of me.)

But the thing I remember most when I remember my dad, is his laugh. Bud laughed; he laughed a lot. He laughed many times to tears. He laughed with his friends and family because they were laughing; and most of the time, they were laughing at a joke he had told.

Bud Wilson probably knew a million jokes; at least it seemed that way. More importantly, he knew how to tell a million jokes. I know, because I’ve heard him tell jokes for hours. He was genuinely good at it. He had a great memory for punch lines, perfect timing, and the ability to change a story depending on his audience.

Dad loved jokes, and instilled in me a love for humor. When he came home from work, he often brought us kids a little something; some candy, a half melted popsicle, etc. But if he had heard a new joke while he was at work, that was the real prize. Because he would have to tell it. Because he would just about burst if he didn’t.

Bud instilled that love for humor in me. I love jokes and stories of all types, and if you know me, you know that I’ve always got one…or five. When I was about ten, my elementary school principal pulled me aside one day and advised me not to tell so many jokes and stories. “People don’t like that,” he said. Well, while there is a right time and a wrong time for jokes and stories, I’ve often wished that I could tell that old principal of mine a thing or two about the ability to tell a joke. He was wrong; people do like that…a lot. Over the years, I’ve spoken to thousands of people and been in many highly charged business situations, and I can tell you that the ability to simply tell a joke is probably one of the most valuable assets my father gave me.

A well told joke builds rapport, while at the same time diffusing tension. It helps us connect with people. No matter who you are or where you come from, it feels good to laugh; and people like someone that makes them feel good. Many times, I’ve seen a weighty, tenuous situation that was handled deftly and delicately because someone had the tact to insert a little humor into the mix. In college, I once walked into a communications class along with a herd of frightened classmates, and instead of producing a prepared speech, I stood with no notes and delivered an old joke I had told a hundred times. The instructor gave me an “A+”. That’s the value of humor.

Now I say a well told joke, because we have all been at the mercy of someone that can’t tell a joke. They have no sense of timing, they can’t remember the punch line, or they simply don’t understand that the joke may not relate at all to the situation at hand. I’m thinking of just such a person as I write this; you probably know one too. It is brutally uncomfortable and embarrassing to stand there with a polite smile and a forced chuckle while someone butchers a joke. It hurts; it offends the sensibilities. Humor is like good music; we all know instinctively what it should sound like; but we don’t all have the talent to make it happen.

If you know I am talking about you, don’t worry. There’s a lot of humor to go around. Enjoy the jokes of others. Practice your own. (The jokes I tell best are the ones I’ve told the most.) And if you can’t tell a joke well, tell it anyway. If they don’t laugh with you, maybe they can laugh at you. (That was a joke- could you tell?) By the way, that’s another thing. Never explain a joke. If they don’t get it the first time, let it go. That ship has sailed. Don’t waste your breath.

That’s why I say if you can tell a joke, rejoice in the ability; revel in it, use it. Make the world a happier, funnier place. I saw my father do that, and in the end, his friends and family loved him for taking the edge of what can be a hard, cruel life. Pull the plug on the tension; we take ourselves was too seriously. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A merry heart is like good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.” You don’t want dried up bones do you?  So lighten up. God gave us laughter for a reason. It’s a beautiful thing. When I get to Heaven, I’m going to look my father up and I can guarantee you this; if he’s not at the feet of Jesus at that moment, he’ll have someone cornered and he’ll be telling a joke…and he’ll be laughing. I can’t wait.

Rule 3 - Confidence and common sense will take you farther than education and position.

In the introduction to Bud’s Rules, I mentioned the fact that my father had a fourth grade education. It seems that during 1933, when Bud was about ten years old, there was a terrible epidemic of scarlet fever throughout the country. Since my father had contracted the disease as a baby, he was immune. Therefore, he took some time off from his class work to help neighbors tend to livestock and various chores in the community when entire families were down sick and unable to take care of their farms. He never went back to school.

After I wrote about that, someone mentioned to me that they never knew he had quit school so early. The fact was, Dad could barely read and write; I used to pick out anniversary cards and write things for him because it was a challenge for him. But if you knew my father, you would have never guessed. What Bud lacked in academics, he made up for in what we call “common sense.”

Dad always seemed to apply the life skills he had learned to everyday living, and it gave him the confidence to take on goals he might not have otherwise tackled. During the 1950’s, some of the best employers in our area were companies like DuPont and Ford’s glass manufacturing division. Most folks would have been fortunate to have landed a job at either; Bud worked at both.

As he started out for his first shift of work at DuPont, my grandfather was not optimistic. “You won’t make it one night, son,” he said, shaking his head. He just didn’t think the slow, methodical sensibilities of a farm boy work ethic would translate to a fast paced industrial setting. But Bud did make it. Working several years at DuPont, when a product line played out and he was laid off, he landed a job to Ford and put in 26 years of service.

He worked in a variety of jobs and was a union captain with the local UAW. On top of that, he farmed a dairy and beef cattle operation with the help of my mother and his sons. He backed down from few challenges and seemed to be intimidated by no one. Not bad for a country boy with an elementary education.

The lessons I learned from his applied common sense and simple confidence in his own ability have helped me in my own life. Having worked in the blue collar field for nearly 20 years, I felt daunted by the situation I found myself in nine years ago, when a crippling motorcycle accident prevented me from returning to a workplace where I had made my living for quite a few years. Faced with the prospect of retirement on disability before I was 40, I applied a little of Dad’s common sense and confidence to my own situation, and returned to school, completing a degree in just over three years and becoming a Certified Public Accountant.

While that accomplishment may seem like an academic achievement, let me say that academics alone will not get you there. During the current economic downturn, I’ve seen many bright, educated young people that lacked the confidence to go out and sell themselves in a tough job market. Likewise, I have friends in their 40’s and 50’s that refuse to use a little common sense and adapt to the current situation. They also lack the confidence to reach out and try something new.

I believe that life still takes confidence and common sense. Yes, we live in a world that is more technologically complex and requires a higher level of base education in the workplace. I know that someone with an elementary school education would never get an interview for most jobs today. But once your foot is in the door, it’s going to take some practical application of knowledge and solid people skills to help you survive.

Many times, I have heard my father say that some individuals had “book smarts”, but lacked common sense. I’ve seen that myself; college graduates that maintained a 4.0 GPA, but were virtually unemployable. It has been said that knowledge is power; but knowledge without wisdom is like a fully charged battery with nothing connected. That’s what common sense is; wisdom, pure and simple. It is the ability to apply what you’ve learned to the problems that face us in the real world.

It is this common sense that gives us confidence. It’s one thing to the principles behind how something works. But what you really need is to be able to walk up to a situation, pick up the tools, and say, “I can make it work.” That’s common sense and confidence; and it will take you down the road.     

Rule 2 – Protect your name and reputation; they are the most valuable assets you have.

“Wilson” is the seventh most common name in the United States. There have been “Wilsons” that were Presidents and “Wilsons” that were prisoners. (There are many more of the latter than the former.)  That said, my father placed a great value on his family name and his personal reputation. He was extremely cautious about his name and reputation, with a strong tendency to defend family honor at every opportunity.

Dad repeatedly warned my brothers and I while growing up about tarnishing the family name, both for him and for us. He knew how valuable that was. Bud realized that his reputation opened doors for him and gave him opportunity. His name was trusted; and he was aware and watchful of that fact. He could be a little hard on us at times, but he had high expectations for us. Even now, I ask myself if I’m carrying on the family name in the way he would have been proud of.

Bud had the kind of name that meant he could walk into the office of any bank president in town and get a loan with a handshake, details to be worked out later. He had the kind of reputation that made local politicians seek him out for endorsement in the community. I have seen influential men come to him privately for trusted and confidential counsel. He was once approached about running for political office, but declined. A couple of years ago, I was talking to one of the local funeral directors about Dad, and he misted up, telling me how much he missed my father. When you bring a tear to the undertaker’s eye, you know you’ve made an impact. You don’t get that kind of name and reputation without being proud of it and protecting it.

Dad once lifted the chin of my son, who was about five and very bashful at the time, and told him in a very serious tone, “Raise your head up, Chief; you’re a Wilson. You don’t have anything to hold your head down for.” That attitude was forged subconsciously in our family, and incidentally, my boy never forgot it, either. Likewise, that attitude got handed down to my daughter as well. She developed a personality within our community that transcended the family name, even while she was only in high school. Many people in town knew her simply as “Lindsey Jo”; and she worked hard to keep a reputation of virtue and integrity. Now, she is just as conscientious for her husband and the family name they are forging and I am proud of them both.

If this attitude seems like sinful pride, please understand that it isn’t. It is scriptural, and understanding the value of a name and reputation is pervasive throughout the Bible. God’s people have always understood the power and value in a name and a reputation. God repeatedly warned Israel about their actions “in His name”, recognized as “His people”. Back then, your name and reputation defined who you were, realistically and prophetically. They still do; people just don’t realize it.

Solomon says in Proverbs that “a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches”, and looking around, it’s easy to see why. Some of the most fabulously famous celebrities of our time have names and reputations so marked with scandal and debauchery, that most of us would have nothing to do with them.

For example, Bernie Madoff once had a name and reputation as being one of the most trusted investors in the world, until he “Madoff” with billions of other people’s money. Now, most folks wouldn’t buy a stick of gum from him. If he were given early release today, he could probably never get a job. Who would trust him? His actions ruined his name and his life; not only his, but his entire family. His own son committed suicide rather than live with the shame of his father’s actions.

Conversely, I can say I’ve always been proud to be my father’s son. Even though Dad’s been gone for over nine years now, I still get identified with him. Since I bear some resemblance to him, it’s not unusual for someone that doesn’t even know me to say, “I know you’re a Wilson.” As recently as this week, someone called me “Bud”.  That’s fine by me. Even though I’ve lived long enough to make my own name in this world, I’m glad to be associated with his. He worked hard to protect it; I’m honored to preserve it. Proverbs also says, “A righteous man leaves an inheritance for his children’s children.” That’s not just money; that’s a reputation worth more than gold.

Rule 1 - Appearance and attitude matter; to others, as well as yourself.

My dad never worked in an office setting or held a political office. He was never on television that I’m aware of, or made any kind of official public appearances. But one thing I remember about Bud Wilson was that special attention to personal appearance was ingrained in who he was. As a child, I remember every Saturday night; he would spread a newspaper out on the floor, get out the shoe shine kit and shine his boots. (When we were children, he did this for us as well.) He would polish dress and work footwear alike, taking time to buff them to a brilliant shine.

Likewise, he made sure his pencil thin mustache, sideburns and hair were trimmed and groomed perfectly. From the time he rose and dressed until he went to bed, he never had a hair out of place. Even when he wore a cap, he was careful to put it on in such a way that it never messed his hair up. Some wear a cap to conceal a bad hair day- Dad never had a bad hair day. He always made sure of it.

While Dad wasn’t typically a ‘jacket and tie’ kind of guy, unless it was Sunday morning, he always made sure his clothes were neat and clean. Even when going to work at the factory on the ‘midnight shift’, he wore ‘dress jeans’ or slacks and a nice shirt, changing into work clothes at work, and back into what he would have called his ‘street clothes’ at the end of his shift. He never left the house without a clean shave. He was fastidious about his appearance and personal care.

Why was this important? Appearances matter. In the society we live in today, full of baggy pants and caps with the bill turned sideways, we don’t give appearance much thought. But it still matters. When you show up for a date, or a job, or just show up, personal care shows that YOU care. People will treat you different. Even if they don’t think they notice, they do. They always do.

Secondly, your appearance affects your attitude. As the old Staples Family song title says, you need to “Respect Yourself”. If you don’t, no one else will. If you dress like you don’t matter, you won’t feel as if you do. Treat yourself right. It will make a difference in the way others treat you and the way you treat others. I’ve seen it. Looking like a failure is like living in a self fulfilling prophecy.

If you are looking for a job, this goes double, especially in the difficult economy we face today. Take a hint from the Depression era folks like Bud. They lived through times tougher than this, with unemployment twice as high. They learned that appearance and attitude make a difference if you’re trying to land a job. Believe me when I say that a prospective employer won’t be impressed by your ear gauges or the trendy “tat” on your neck, but if you show up on time with a good haircut and a shirt that’s been introduced to a device called an iron, you are way ahead of the game.

About five years ago, I made a drastic career change that left me with the classic “over and under” problem; I was over aged and under experienced for the line of work I was entering. But even in a tough job market, I found that the right appearance and attitude would land me a job offer from nearly every interview I ever went on. I believe appearance and attitude were and are key.

Appearance affects your attitude by giving you a little thing called confidence, which is in fact, no little thing at all. As a boy, I watched my dad walk into any social interaction, whether business or casual, and he always exuded confidence. I know he still probably sometimes felt insecure, but he never let anyone see him sweat. Everywhere he went, he walked in like he owned the place. Confidence won’t replace competence, but it will take you a long way down the road.

That brings me to one final thought. If you are a child of God, you can walk into any situation like you own it, because by inheritance, you do. If you understand that, it will affect the way you dress, the way you act, and the attitude you have. You can try to slide by on that concept and take the easy way out, relying on the “greasy grace” of position by association, or you can take pride in yourself and who you are; become the man or woman that God expects you to be.  It’s up to you; you are the one that has to look at yourself in the mirror every morning. Do you like what you see?