My Jordan's Edge group was touring Clemson's football training facility in South Carolina, 150,000 square feet, $55 million, a private walkthrough of how they develop athletes and students. I was thirsty and had left my water somewhere, so I asked if I could grab a bottle from one of the NFL interview conference rooms. My buddy Joe looked at me and said, absolutely not. We are givers, not takers!
My first thought was, geez, chill. It's a fifty-cent water bottle in a fifty-five-million-dollar building, in a room where eight-figure offers get made to teenagers. But Joe was right, and it took me a minute to see it. The amount had nothing to do with the question. Who you are does not scale up and down with the size of the number in front of you.
Most people's standard of living ratchets on its own. Income goes up, spending follows, and nobody ever schedules a meeting to approve it. Left alone, the money starts making the calls. I'm fortunate to know a few entrepreneurs who live on a set salary and let their giving rise and fall with the profits instead. They decided how they wanted to live before the money showed up, so the money never got a vote.
Earning money takes hard work. Spending it takes wisdom. Saving it takes discipline. Giving it takes faith. That last one is why I keep coming back to this: your standard of living should never outrun your standard of giving.
Be a giver with your money, your time, your attention, whatever's in your hands. That's what makes someone a difference maker, not the size of the building they're standing in.
And no, I never did get that water bottle.
I do life with a group of men. We call ourselves "Jordan's Edge". At Jordan’s Edge, we stand on the cusp of a great promise - just like the people in the Bible who faced the edge of the Promised Land, a place flowing with hope and abundance.
We are a brotherhood of men. Pastors, non and for profit founders, entrepreneurs, businessmen, doctors, and veterans - doing life together. We meet regularly to speak truth and love into each other’s lives, to encourage, support, and pray. And the one rule we hold above the rest is that what's said in the circle stays in the circle.
That rule is the whole thing. A man will tell you the truth about his marriage or his fear or the thing he's ashamed of only when he knows it won't leave the room. The sanctity of the circle is what makes the honesty possible. Break it once and the brotherhood is gone.
I used to think leadership for a man was about being the loudest voice, the one with the plan, the one who decides. Sitting in that circle for years has worn that idea down. The men I actually lean on aren't the loud ones. They're the ones I can hand something heavy to and know they won't drop it and won't repeat it.
That's what I want to be at home too. Someone my wife and my daughters can put their full weight on and not fall. Not by taking charge of every decision, but by being the same person in private that I am in public. Being trustworthy gets built in the small, unseen faithfulness, the kept confidence, the promise you actually keep when keeping it costs you something.
Be someone a family can trust. The rest follows from that.