Dearest Rachel –
On the drive to and from camp yesterday, Brian and I (and occasionally Scott, but he’s quieter and more reserved – plus, he was sitting in the rear seat of the truck) did a lot of talking together. Some of the conversation was about the business at hand – the camp and its budget, and how several new members of the team, both here and there, would and did handle themselves (depending on whether we were discussing things on the way there or back) in terms of our preparedness for the upcoming season. Some of it was on various personal topics, including our individual families, travels and my personal situation in dealing with life after you – he and I are part of an extended family after all, so it’s not unnatural to do so. Besides, even at the speeds he drives at, it’s still a couple hours there and back – what else is there to do but talk?
But one of the subjects that came up had to do with the fact that our church is expanding to the point where certain members of the staff simply can’t attend to every location anymore. This applies to the situation at the camp as well, where we’re bringing in people to handle things at camp so that Brian and Scott can eventually back away from the day-to-day operations (or even month-to-month or year-to-year operations) in order to spend more time on various bigger-picture aspects of the whole operation. It’s the wide-angle, broad-stroke aspects that are more Brian’s thing, in particular, and he’s well suited for it (I’m not as sure about Scott; he’s great with details and the inner workings, to be honest, but there may be other areas within the entire operation that need his attention more so than the camp), but I think he just likes getting his hands in everything that’s going on. But he’s also well aware that there are only so many hours in the day, even for himself, and he has to prioritize his time and attention as well.
You know, having a growing organization under you isn’t what most people would consider a problem – and if anyone dared say so, there would be thousands out here in the online world to ratio such a comment into oblivion; “oh, I just wish I had your ‘problem,’ whiner,” or words to that effect – but it does come with its own set of challenges. There’s a point where things get too big for one person – or even a small group of people – to handle, and the leadership has to expand in order to accommodate it all. It means finding trustworthy and competent people… and being able to take advantage of those qualities by actually trusting them with certain reins, and have faith that they can in fact guide the portion of the organization that’s under their control in the direction you want it to go as well.
My dad has so many stories of people who wouldn’t let go of control when it got too big for them to do so; of course, he also has a fair number of those who turned the reins over to people who weren’t ready (or who never would be ready) for them, either. Both possibilities cause terrible destruction to what the initial person built up, and there’s the challenge in life to figure out how to avoid falling off either side of the tightrope.
Because the fact of the matter is, none of us is indispensable – or at least, none of us should be, seeing as none of us can fill whatever role we’re in forever. While it’s true that we’re all unique in our own ways, and no one can do exactly what we can do exactly the same way (for better or worse), at some point, we will each end up having to turn our roles over to others, or having them eliminated entirely. We are not – and cannot be – irreplaceable. The world will go on without us; it has to. The trick is to back away as inconspicuously as we can, so that the transition from each of us to our successor is as smooth as possible, and the things we had made our life’s work can continue without us and without interruption (or at least, with minimal interruption).
Of course, that’s not always possible, and sometimes that handover is just not smooth due to circumstances, lack of planning, or just not being prepared for it. We all know about our impermanence, but there’s a certain age where it just doesn’t strike you as an issue… unless it does so quite literally. That’s where Daniel and I are with you, after all. We have people who can fill one role or another from time to time – Logan and the girls are occasional companions (to a greater or lesser extent), Kris keeps things tidy – but it’s not a 24/7 thing, and some roles currently cannot be fulfilled (well, I suppose they could, but that would require a surrender of morals and scruples that are just beyond me). But we manage, as best we can.
There are those who like to think of themselves as irreplaceable; it’s a point of pride that no one can do the things they can, and once they’re gone no one else ever will. That seems to be rather a shame to deprive the world of such skill and talent once you’re gone, especially given someone who supposedly contributes so much to make the world a better place by who they are and what they do. Better that they should show the way for others to do likewise, and make that much more of improvement to the world by propagating their special contribution for many years, even generations, after they’re gone.
I know this has been a bit of a meandering letter; I hope you’ll excuse that from me. I don’t know that I have a particular point to it, other than hoping you’d not mind my attempts to fill the hole you left with no succession plan (not that we ever considered that to be necessary). All I can ask for now is that you’ll keep an eye on me, and wish me luck going forward… because I’m going to need it.
