Solopreneur

Businesses are, in a way, like families.

It used to be that a family was thought of as Mom and Dad, plus two or three kids - and maybe a dog. Today a family can be a Mom, a Dad, a step mom or step dad, half brothers, step sisters, or some combination of all of the above. The problem with mourning the loss of the traditional family is that we miss the love and relationship of the family that is.

I used to work for a corporation. I had a team. It was a “lock step” team. I had a group of managers who reported to me, and they had their managers, supervisors and staff. We all worked well together.

It was a dream team.

We were all unified around our vision and mission. Each had the other’s back. We were in it together, working full steam.

Then I became an entrepreneur.

I opened my own business and never looked back. I had a new vision, a new mission.

Except, as a solopreneur, I didn’t have a team. I missed that. I missed getting others excited about what we were doing and where we were going.

I missed the celebration of our victories together, and the comfort of people who understood when things didn’t go as planned.

I wanted my traditional family back.

Until I realized - I do have a team. It may not look like the typical corporate team, with the eight employees per manager, job descriptions and a succession plan. But I have half-team members and step-coworkers.

I have a marketing guy in Boston who really cares about my business. I have clients who need my motivation, who want to work side by side with me. I have friends and family who want me to do well. They pray for my business, and for me. I have readers who give feedback and join the conversation and help me navigate the intersections of work and life, helping me to support others.

I finally realized that in my focus to have a "traditional" team, I was isolating myself. God was bringing people into my circle, but I was limiting those who I considered true team members.

As I left work today, I replayed the day while driving home. There were several people encouraging me, providing input, praying with me, asking for prayer, calling with questions and asking if we were on track.

These people - all of them - they are my family.

They are my team.

Together we will live and love and accomplish for God's glory.

Sue Miley

“The High Calling” – WB Journal

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A Giant in the Crowd

Since drama is made up of life, teaching drama gives one the opportunity to teach life. However, I didn't think I ever taught as much as I was privileged to learn from my students. Such was the "Giant" named Jimmy, who walked into my class in 1963.

Jimmy was one of the "special education" students who had been mainstreamed, and I felt privileged to have him in my class. Not only was he "special," but he was to "educate" us all.

Drama students are great fun, as they are creative, spontaneous, outspoken, and disarmingly honest. However, these very qualities sometimes get inthe way of a thing called "consistency." So it was that after two months, the only student that had done every single assignment was Jimmy.

I could only imagine how hard it was for him at times. He was fighting muscular coordination difficulties as well as speech and vision problems, but he never shirked from any responsibility.

I constantly bragged about him being "excuse free." One day, I called on him, and he looked back at me, smiled, and told me he wasn't ready to perform. I detected a slight twinkle in his eye,and I asked him to stay after class for a moment.

"Jimmy, you were ready weren't you?" I asked.
"Yes sir," he replied.

"Why didn't you then perform, Jim? You did the work, you deserve the credit." He shuffled his feet, looked up, and smiled.

"Well," he said, "I didn't want the other kids to feel bad. I have more free time than they do to get the homework done, and I didn't want any of them to get discouraged."

As the year progressed, the kids became more aware of their good fortune in having a genius in their midst who was so skilled in the art of humanity.

I have asked the following question to countless groups in seminars: When you see someone crying, you go up to them and usually say something. What is it you say?

"What's wrong?" is the answer that is given time and time again.

Jimmy would never have answered with that phrase. In such a situation, he would always say, "Can I help?"

One day I was particularly struck by Jimmy's asking another student if he could help and asked him directly why he didn't ask, "What's wrong?"

"Well, Mr. Schlatter," he said, "I never thought much about it, but I guess I figure it's not my business 'what's wrong,' but if I can help them fix what's wrong, that is my business."

An excerpt from
Gifts by the Side of the Road
by John Wayne "Jack" Schlatter