Little Things

When I coached basketball, I felt I needed to have two essential players on the team. The first was my point guard. He had to “be me” on the court. (Not play like me, thankfully. That would be a disaster!) He had to be the coach, the general. He had to direct traffic. Without that player, all of the other pieces would not fall into place and the outcome of the game would not be in our favor.

I was blessed with some really good ones. In Wyoming, Gene was my general. A little guy, but bright and athletic. He was also the younger brother to the star of the team and that was an interesting dynamic. It turned out fine because with him and with the other fine athletes on that team, we played for the State Championship twice and won it once.

In Waukesha, Wisconsin, Steve and then David were the point guards. Both were leaders and both led the team, not so much in scoring, but in creating opportunities for others to score.

The other player I coveted and had to have on my team was the sixth man. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? A non-starter being essential?

My sixth man had to be smart and he had to do one of two things- sometimes at the same time. He either had to light a fire (shooting and rebounding) or put out a fire (defense). And much of what to do and when to do it was up to him and his instincts.

Again, I was blessed with some really good ones. In Wyoming, there were Ron and Tim. At first, they were reluctant. Both had wanted to start. Neither of them wanted to sit on the bench and wait for my signal to go in despite my assurances that they would play and end up playing a lot. Ron ended up being All-Conference at that position.

In Waukesha, I had Scott and then Mike. Both guys did what was asked of them and never complained. They did their part, whether it was shooting the lights out or shutting down the other team’s shooter.

We’re so used to watching stars perform, aren’t we? Guys who go by one name: LeBron; Dez; Dak; Brady; Rodgers. Even in the world of entertainment: Reba; Dolly; Kenny; Bruce. So famous, we mention that one name and most of us know who we’re talking about.

Not taking anything away from any of these gifted athletes or performers, but there are certainly other individuals who make it easier for them to play or perform. There are so many other crucial pieces of the whole we seem to forget.

I have Brett Favre’s Hall of Fame speech taped on our DVR. Yes, he thanked his fellow players, his family, and his coaches. But he also thanked the equipment guy and the locker room guy. I wouldn’t know their names unless I heard the speech and as I write this, can’t recall their names. But Favre thought so highly of them that he called them out publicly.

Where would Brady, Rodgers, or Dak be without the linemen in front of them? The guys who block? And where would they be without the guy who is called off the bench to replace one of those injured linemen?

One of my favorite pictures among many is of President Obama giving a knuckle-bump to the White House janitor. We don’t know his name, but I’m pretty sure President Obama did. (I also like the picture of President Obama bending down so a little boy could touch his hair). There was a gentle, humbleness in the man I so admire and so very much miss. He recognized the lowly, the low of station. He recognized the little guy who did the Little Things.

I know I wouldn’t be as effective without my building engineer or my office manager. I know the school wouldn’t function as well without the receptionist, the attendance clerk or the guidance receptionist. There are plenty of people out there like them.

So here’s to the little guy who does the Little Things. The man or woman, the boy or girl, who work in silence and without a spotlight. The man or woman, the boy or girl, who goes about life making it easier for each of us; who make it possible for us to do our jobs and live our lives a bit easier. Without them, the folks who are known by only one name- wouldn’t be. We’d wonder, ‘Who are you talking about?’ God Bless each of you, and thank you for all you do for us. Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

I finished my fifth work of thriller/suspense fiction, Caught in a Web and I’ll keep you posted as to when it will be published.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                         

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI/                  

If you like Thriller/Suspense fiction, check out my novels:

Available on Amazon for .99 the Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they don’t know one another, the lives of FBI Agent Kelliher and two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their lives are in jeopardy as each search for a way out. http://bit.ly/Taking-Lives-JLewis

Stolen Lives, Book One of the Lives Trilogy:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents have 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead! They have no leads, no clues, and nothing to go on. And the possibility exists that one of his team members might be involved. http://bit.ly/Stolen-Lives-JLewis

Shattered Lives, Book Two of the Lives Trilogy:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families, but they don’t know it. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them. http://bit.ly/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis

Splintered Lives, Book Three of the Lives Trilogy:

It began in Arizona with death and it ends in Arizona in death. A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their family vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him? http://bit.ly/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis

The Pencil

Remember back in elementary school learning to write? We had those really fat pencils that were supposedly easier to work with. As we got older, we worked with the good ol’ Number 2. That lasted until somebody invented the mechanical pencil.

I never liked working with a pencil. Never, to this day. I didn’t like the scratchy sound. I didn’t like having to sharpen it, grinding away in the pencil sharpener over the garbage can by the door. Sometimes getting the point to pointy so it would break at the slightest pressure, and then having to sharpen it once again.

Worse, I hated the eraser, especially when it got so low, I would sometimes scratch the paper with the metal eraser holder on the end of the pen. When that happened, sure shootin’, a hole would end up in the paper I’d be working on. Hated that.

Kim, Emily and I visited James Madison’s home, Montpelier, yesterday. It’s about a thirty minute drive from our house through horse country, vineyards and farm land. We learned that among other things, Madison spoke, read and wrote in seven languages. He framed the constitution using ink on a turkey quill. He took notes at the constitutional convention with the same.

I was a ball point pen guy. Medium tip. I like the feel of it as it slid across the paper. Now, I sit in the family room with my trusty laptop and peck away. So much easier, especially for a lousy speller like me. Spell Check is my best friend.

I came across this from one of my heroes, Mother Teresa. She is quoted as saying, “I'm a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.”

Think about that for a moment: “. . . a pencil in the hand of God . . .”

It takes a great deal of faith and a great deal of humbleness to say something like that. To know one’s purpose. To be that purpose.

Made me think . . .

The first thought is, if I’m a pencil, whose hand am I in? I certainly hope it’s God’s hand. I certainly try to be. If I can bring someone happiness, someone peace, someone joy, then I think I served a pretty fair purpose. As I said, I try, and that’s all one can do I suppose.

The second thought is, our children- our own, those we teach, those we come in contact with- if they are the pencil in our hands, what are we having them write?

Are they writing a note of love to the world, as Mother Teresa states, or are they writing something else? Something quite the opposite?

Heady thought, isn’t it?

We have so much power in our hands. Our children can be, and mostly are, the pencils in our hands. It is us . . . each of us . . . who provide them the words to their note. It is us . . . you and I who show them how to act, how to react, and what to think.

Our children . . . our own and the children we teach and come into contact with . . . have so much better radar than we give them credit for. They are perceptive to pick up the slightest nuances of our tone, our word choice, the expression on our face, our eyes. They are sensitive enough to recognize what is in our heart . . . yours and mine.

What is it they are writing? What kind of note to our world? Their world? Something to think 

about . . .

To My Readers:

I finished my fifth work of thriller/suspense fiction, Caught in a Web and I’ll keep you posted as to when it will be published.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                        

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI/                 

If you like Thriller/Suspense fiction, check out my novels:

Available on Amazon for .99 the Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they don’t know one another, the lives of FBI Agent Kelliher and two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their lives are in jeopardy as each search for a way out. http://bit.ly/Taking-Lives-JLewis

Stolen Lives, Book One of the Lives Trilogy:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents have 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead! They have no leads, no clues, and nothing to go on. And the possibility exists that one of his team members might be involved. http://bit.ly/Stolen-Lives-JLewis

Shattered Lives, Book Two of the Lives Trilogy:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families, but they don’t know it. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them. http://bit.ly/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis

Splintered Lives, Book Three of the Lives Trilogy:

It began in Arizona with death and it ends in Arizona in death. A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their family vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him? http://bit.ly/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis

Weekend Mornings

Growing up, Saturdays meant mom would bake. Bread. Buns. Cinnamon rolls. The smell drifted over the house. My mouth would water. There were times we ate her bread straight out of the oven, butter melting before it was fully spread.

Chores. Lawns to mow. Apples to pick. Bushes to trim. Backyard football or baseball to play. Bikes to ride. Trees to climb. Rafts for traveling up and down the river. The woods to explore.

Sundays were bacon and eggs and toast. Maybe sweet rolls from Bauer’s Bakery. Always church. Holy Angels for the nine-fifteen. Left side. One of the first ten rows or so from the front. Back home, a Packer game to watch. A dinner of fried chicken, rolls and mashed potatoes Then the Ed Sullivan Show.

Time passed. Years drifted by and now I have a family of my own.

I get up early, though not as early as weekdays. Silence in the mornings. Kim is out running and won’t be back for an hour or so. The girls, if they’re home, still sleeping.

The sun peeks over the tall trees that form a wall in our backyard. I revel in the silence. Broken, by a woodpecker seeking its breakfast, other birds greeting each other with chirps and calls.

As neighbors wake, the familiar sound of lawnmowers come to life. Cars drive past our house, occupants on their way to the grocery store or on to some such errand.

Still, our family room is quiet, peaceful. No TV. No radio. Revel in silence. Gathering my thoughts. Thinking through a scene or dialogue of my current book, my current work in progress. Prewriting in my head- an important step for me before I pull out the laptop and peck away at the keyboard.

Bailey at my feet or laying on the couch in her room. Lazy. Peaceful. At rest. Just like me, I suppose. Not anxious to begin the day, but rather, to begin it slowly.

So grateful for these mornings.

Weekend Mornings to recharge. Weekend Mornings to take stock. Weekend Mornings to reflect.

Important, I think.

Plenty of time for work. Plenty of time to be busy. Not enough time to rest.

Sigh. Smile. A nod of the head. And, something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                        

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI/                 

If you like Thriller/Mystery fiction, check out my novels:

Available on Amazon for .99 the Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they don’t know one another, the lives of FBI Agent Kelliher and two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their lives are in jeopardy as each search for a way out. http://bit.ly/Taking-Lives-JLewis

Stolen Lives, Book One of the Lives Trilogy:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents have 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead! They have no leads, no clues, and nothing to go on. And the possibility exists that one of his team members might be involved. http://bit.ly/Stolen-Lives-JLewis

Shattered Lives, Book Two of the Lives Trilogy:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families, but they don’t know it. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them. http://bit.ly/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis

Splintered Lives, Book Three of the Lives Trilogy:

It began in Arizona with death and it ends in Arizona in death. A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their family vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him? http://bit.ly/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis