Preston Gillham

Thank you for praying for me this week. The death of my friend—our friend—Kevin Walker, Walkit.org, is a monstrous loss. I told a friend today after lunch that there is no way to process Kevin’s life or death with our intellects.

If there was a recipe for greatness then we could bottle it and sell it. If greatness could be defined then we could study it. If greatness could be apprehended then we all could possess it. But there is no recipe, no definition, and no hand hold. Thinking about greatness is illusive. However, greatness can be recognized with the heart.

What made Kevin a great man? His intellect was an aspect of him. I knew him well, but he surprised me regularly with his incisive ability to assemble disparate pieces of information into keen wisdom.

He wasn’t short on emotion and didn’t hesitate to demonstrate what he was feeling. He cried, laughed, loved, touched, and talked readily. Having worked in Eastern Europe for years, I’m somewhat accustomed to being kissed on each cheek by men when they greet me there. But I never quite got over Kevin kissing me on the head and blessing me. The only other person who kisses me on the head and blesses me is God, and I haven’t gotten over that either, but Kevin helped me not resist Him.

Kevin was a good musician, a skillful player, a fine composer, and a gifted lyricist. He and Bobby Price won a Grammy, after all. He led worship like no one else I’ve ever encountered—and I’ve encountered a lot in my profession.

No. Kevin was all of these things, but he was—is—more. He was a man of heart who walked with God, whom he called Papa. This composite, this integration, this blending of all that was in him into an expression of his heart and God’s heart is a decent definition of Kevin. Add a streak of courage, a fiery tenacity, a resilient frame, and the description is closer.

The trouble with great men is that when they pass it catches us off guard. We are left with hard questions that roil inside us in a tumult.

One of the beauties in the passing of a great man is that it holds us accountable to manage what is in our soul versus going about our business as we are prone to do when other men pass from us. If we are not aware, denial of our loss can drown us in their wake. But riding the wave of their loss can wash us with what made them great and transport us to a new place.

Like you if you knew Kevin, I’m suffering my loss. In time, I will stabilize, but I don’t want to cling to a reef of expedient stability–like work, for example, or trite dismissals–in fear of engaging the grieving process.

No. It is not time to drop anchor or search the horizon for a safe harbor. Now is the time to cry for no apparent reason. To recall and laugh. To be quiet. To cling to my friends and bury my face in their necks. Now it is time to celebrate that my Father, in His wisdom, equipped me—and you—with the capacity to grieve and remember tenaciously that He promised to never leave me destitute.

As I do this, then I pay tribute to a great man, who in death created a current to transport me through life. My final words to Kevin were, “I love you. I’ll see you soon.” I thought that meant I would see him on Wednesday. Now, of course, I understand it meant I will see him shortly.

That’s how Dianne and I read the Bible. More verses than that, for longer than a paragraph takes, has proven too formidable for us to enjoy success, let alone benefit.

Mornings are demanding—and we don’t even have kids. Yikes! The alarm goes off at 4:45. Di’s out the door at 7:00. No matter how hard we try to manage our minutes, by the time we get exercises done, showers taken, and breakfast downed the clock has precious few ticks left prior to take off.

For years we just acquiesced into the jaws of defeat. But then the idea of something—anything—being better than nothing registered. It seemed a good place to start was with a paragraph. And we did, and it worked. Very well.

Measurable goals. Achievable results. Blah, blah, blah. I know. Here’s the surprise: We are enjoying reading Scripture more than ever. And, we are getting great insight too. The bite-size chunks of Bible are allowing us to savor our paragraph like gourmets. It’s rich.

There is something to be said for an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. But, there is also something to be said for a gourmet meal presented “just so” and relished bite-by-bite so each complexity bursts in your mouth.

I eat at both kinds of places, and I digest Scripture similarly. But in the mornings, Dianne and I savor the Scripture one paragraph at a time while we drink our fruit smoothie.

Leadership is a delicate balance between building consensus and taking charge.

This week is not my own. I am sharing the kitchen, our bedroom, the bath, my study, and every other square inch of my world with my niece and nephew—ten and seven respectively. Since we are not their parents, Dianne and I are free to negotiate a few of the decisions, e.g. where to eat lunch, what’s for dinner, and which movie we watch over pizza.

Finalizing the pizza order ranks as one of my more difficult decision-making challenges. One person wants olives, one pepperoni. One wants extra cheese. One wants hamburger, one mushrooms, another peppers. No one wants it all at once, except Dianne. Since my job is to lead (and buy), it is also my job to build consensus so that when the pizza arrives we are ready to enjoy the movie.

On the other hand, just before entering the guitar center to purchase a microphone for my podcast, I took charge. I instructed on what we were about to see and do, what we could touch and not fiddle with, etc. and I did so with clarity that indicated there was no intent on my part to negotiate or seek consensus.

Leaders lead. Building consensus is about establishing mutual respect, valuing talent, and recognizing the ingenuity of other people in order to craft a course of action. Taking charge is about efficiency, safety, and security. Leadership is not either/or; it is both/and. Therein is the primary challenge.

We all want to be led whether we are children visiting our aunt and uncle, employees working for “the man,” or board members serving to achieve the greater good. Leaders know this, choose the correct style for the situation, and lead.

I’m not usually one to split hairs on film genres, but there are chick flicks and then there are chick flicks. If the only thing a movie has in it is romance, then it is a chick flick, pure and simple. But my world has expanded. My 10-year-old niece introduced me to a new concept: 10-year-old chick flicks.

Not only is our niece 10 years old, but the actors in “Little Manhattan” are 10-years old as well. I was prepared to slog through a poor movie, but there was a good fight scene, and the story was fun. But what was especially nice was our niece being with us, sitting between Dianne and me, building memories.

Reminiscing is one of the universal activities that bonds families. Most of the fun conversations, heartiest laughs, and greatest points of connection occur with a recounting of memories at reunions, around the dinner table, or sitting together after a family event.

One of these days, eating pizza and watching “Little Manhattan” will be one of the reminiscences that our niece and Dianne and I share. It will be part of the fabric that weaves our hearts and souls together and makes meaningful conversation likely. The 10-year-old chick flick is part of setting the stage for the coming years. As the future unfolds, our bond will tighten because we have built memories together.

And what is the secret ingredient? A quantity of time together. Nothing fancy, just a solid investment of time in each other.

I’m impressed. Somehow you have found PrestonGillham.com without me telling you it exists. How did you do that? I thought I was invisible to the spiders of the web. Ha.

Since you are here, I will let you in on my plan. The next few weeks are filled with uncertainty. There are travels, an assortment of nieces and nephews that must go swimming with their Uncle, and the amazing reality that there are places in this world still not “connected.” A few of my upcoming days will be spent somewhat technologically disconnected.

So here’s the plan: I will begin to blog in earnest and update the site with regular content in the first or second week of July. In the meantime, know that myriad thoughts are running through my head that I can’t wait to put before you for consideration. I am anxious to get started, but a solid start is preferred over a false start. Don’t tell anyone I’m here yet; wait a couple of weeks, then tell them.

More soon, and thanks for being here.

As you will soon discover, PrestonGillham.com is far from finished. In fact, I haven’t even figured it out. I’m being coached through this first post. As you poke around, you’ll see some “test” messages, empty categories, and “coming soon” signs. We’ll get there. It’s a start.

Backing up a step, I contacted my friend, Andy, for assistance with this development project. After two days of work to get started on this site I was exactly nowhere. I had not posted one letter of the alphabet, created a single category, or discovered how to install a template. I had worked furiously and brought all my technical expertise to bear on the problem. My confidence was shot—and I thought I was somewhat technically minded. Wow!

I asked him if he could get me started—like jumping a dead car battery was the image in my mind. He was very gracious and kind. Rather than telling me straight up, he spent a number of minutes guiding me to the clear understanding that I needed professional help. Lucky for you, and a blessing to me, Andy had some time to spare. So, we are off—like a turtle—but we’re rolling.

I’ll tell you right now, I’m going to mess some stuff up, so get ready. I think Andy is skilled enough to fix most anything I foul up, but that presumes I discover the mistake. That’s where you come in—and you thought this blog was for your reading pleasure. Ha. You are an active and responsible party if you are reading. If you see something that needs fixing, or that could be done better, or know of some trick that would help you and others, by all means let me know. I’m viewing this as a group project.

I won’t repeat the content I placed earlier under “About,” except for one thing: I know there are a couple of blog posts already posted; they are worth reading, but they are tests from the archive. This is my first, official post. My pledge going forward is that I will tell you what’s on my mind and in my heart. I’m on the journey of a lifetime. PrestonGillham.com is an invitation for you to join me. I will do my level best to take you with me. I’ll tell you what I see and experience. I’d like the same from you if you feel the freedom to offer it.

As important as all the preceding words are, it is now time for dinner. We are meeting W, Karla, and Carson for Mexican food in Arlington and I’m not ready. So, I must go. Meet you back here—provided I can find it again. May have to call Andy.

Before I sign off, if you have things you would like for me to include in my thoughts or on the site, let me know in the “Comments.” I’ll do my best.

Off now to forage for food.

Here is a great audio clip.

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