Haroo

Abraham Lincoln is credited with the saying, “You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.” Seems simple enough—just do it — take responsibility, and don’t delay! Wait, what does that even mean? What does it mean to take responsibility—make my bed, brush my teeth, recycle, walk the dog, show up on time, do my job, volunteer…do these count?

Responsibility is defined as the state or fact of being accountable, where we are required or expected to justify actions or decisions. But to whom must we justify ourselves—the law, the church, our spouse, our family, our friends? What about to ourselves? Perhaps that is the best kind—personal responsibility, ownership, where we declare boldly, “That’s mine.”—“That’s on me.”—”That’s my area of responsibility.” (AOR). But again, how do we really know if we are acting responsibly?

This is What We Do

In March of 2003, my Special Operations Surgical Team embedded with the Army’s 10th SFG. The trauma surgeon and I boarded a C-130 with 75 shooters, temporarily leaving the rest of our team behind. Along with 2 other C-130s, we flew up from Jordan along the Syrian-Iraqi border. Then under the cover of a starless night, flying at an altitude of under 200 feet, we crossed into northern Iraq following the terrain towards our intended location. Plane #1 came through clean. Our plane (#2) took dozens of rounds from now better aimed triple-A (anti-aircraft artillery) and small arms fire while our pilots initiated stomach churning evasive maneuvers over several harrowing minutes. I may have been more afraid had I not been so busy transferring the contents of my stomach back into the MRE bag where they had resided one hour before. Plane #3 took some critical hits, lost an engine and was spilling fuel. They took decisive action peeling off into the relative safety of Turkey, leaving us to continue on without them. Once on the ground, we linked up with a Kurdish resistance group called Peshmerga. We loaded ourselves and gear into the back of waiting trucks, then in darkness wound our way along rough-cut roads to their mountain camp. As the wintery air found its way into my sweat soaked layers sparking a chill in my bones, I began to consider, “Why am I here? What is my role? What is my responsibility?” So far it seemed I was just tagging along, not really able to offer much.

Within hours of our arrival, we were made aware that there were already calls with generous bounties for our heads. One of the operators, giving us the low down for how things were going to operate that first night, looked at us and said, “If we start taking fire, lay down and don’t shoot me. We got you—this is what we do.” There was a tremendous sense of vulnerability in this, because implicit to this was, “This is NOT what you do!” In hearing this operator’s directive, it became immediately clear why I was here. It was because they needed me to be there if he or any other operators were shot or otherwise injured, THEIR vulnerabilities now on display. It was then that we would return their directive— “Lay down, and don’t shoot me. We got you. This is what WE do.”

Identity and Sacrifice

The context demanded that we be on mission together. We were both essential to accomplish the mission and were each intentional in expressing, “I understand my area of responsibility (AOR), and I will own it and express that responsibility to the best of my ability.” What is so identifiable in this example are two elements that I believe best express the essence of what it means to take responsibility—IDENTITY AND SACRIFICE. I understand who I am and what I am to do. I will pour myself out for you. I will put myself at risk for your good. I will resist fear, fatigue, discomfort, and personal preference to accomplish what it is that I was put here to do.

Taking responsibility—sacrificially doing what you were put here to do—starts with something that can be quite challenging—actually knowing who you are! In the movie “300,” we get a glimpse of what it is to have this clear sense of self. On the verge of any battle, no matter the odds, King Leonidas would turn and face his small band of warriors and call out, “Spartans, what is your profession?” The impassioned cry that was returned was a deep, unified and bone chilling, “HAROO! HAROO! HAROO!” That was answer enough for any enemy.

Ok, for most of us, this sense of self is not quite so definitive. The reality is that you and I are more likely to struggle a bit more—”Who am I? Am I smart enough? Am I skilled enough? Do people really respect or appreciate me? What if they knew how afraid I was?” You will often hear this expressed as Imposter syndrome or that sense that, though I am in this role, this is not who I am. When here, we lack the ability to celebrate who we are because we, more than anyone else, are intimately acquainted with our insecurities, fears and weaknesses and are too often fooled into thinking that this defines who we are— so we hide abdicating our responsibility rather than risk marring our reputation through failure.

The Act of Being You

I have shared in previous writings that I have personally wrestled with this evasive sense of self—do I really belong here? Paradoxically, this would most commonly rear its ugly head at times when I was publicly recognized or awarded for accomplishments. I would hear the faint internal whispers of, “Oh, if they only knew…” During a time that I was most wrestling with this poor sense of self, I spoke with a friend of mine who is an executive coach. Over the course of our conversations, he would encourage me, “David, you desire the things you do, and have done the things you have done in your life, even when there was tension or failure— wrestler, doctor, soldier, husband, father—because it is consistent with who you are.”

He would challenge me to observe myself daily, or as he put it, “Catch yourself in the act of being you.” Part of that discovery was realizing that over the course of my life, I had too often been tempted to adopt the faulty narrative of, “I don’t belong here”—which had not so much served to prevent action (I still pursued and accomplished things), but it did inhibit my own joyful experience of those God-born desires, passions, and talents I had been blessed with. And as such, a blunted expression of taking that responsibility.

But over time I have been learning how to say with increasing conviction and express with deeper understanding that in my varied pursuits and experiences, “I DO belong here!” This is by no means meant to be baseless positive self-talk but rather, the act of embracing and celebrating the expressions of my desires, passions, and talents as being consistent with “who I am.” Only then can we find the courage to take “full” responsibility for what is ours, whether in success or failure. It is here that you will also then discover deeper wells of sacrificial giving.

There is a scene in the movie series, “Band of Brothers,” where Capt. Dick Winters is reprimanding one of his Lieutenants, Buck Compton, for gambling with his subordinates. Buck pushes back saying, “Come on Dick, we are just having some fun. Are you ticked because they like me? Because I’m spending time to get to know my soldiers? I mean, come on. You’ve been with these guys for what, two years? I’ve been here for six days.”
Winters responds saying, “You’re gambling Buck.”
“So what, soldiers do that. I don’t deserve a reprimand for it.”
“What if you had won?” asks Winters.
“What?”
Winters pauses and repeats, “What if you had won? Never put yourself in a position where you can take from these men.”

What was he saying here? Live and lead sacrificially with these men, give them no reference point of you taking from them, because a day will come when you will, necessarily, call them to action—to risk their lives—perhaps give their lives—and in that time the voice you want them to hear is one that they know has already habitually given himself for them, never taking, never withholding.

Expressions of responsibility are always relational in their impact. Responsibility is never expressed in a vacuum. The individuals in our ‘AOR’ will determine through time, consciously or subconsciously, if you are a trustworthy person to follow, align with, or safely orient themselves towards. They will learn whether you are willing to lay down your life, rights, and preferences for them, and whether you would withhold asking of them anything that you have not already offered of yourself. Taking responsibility is not an expression of perfection, but rather an observable orientation of the heart and mind through time.

So, whether making your bed, showing up on time, finishing the task, caring for one in need, or protecting another, catch yourself in the act of being you. Discover who you are, embrace your AOR and appreciate those who are in it. Then, in answer to the question, “What is your profession?” Dare to cry out, HAROO! HAROO! HAROO!