Geiger - How to ruin your life: and starting over when you do

Copyright 2018 by Eric Geiger

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

978-1-4627-8091-4

Published by B&H Publishing Group

Nashville, Tennessee

Dewey Decimal Classification: 241

Subject Heading: CHRISTIAN ETHICS \ HUMAN BEHAVIOR \ SELF

All Scripture quotations are taken from the Christian Standard Bible, Copyright 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible and CSB are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.

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For my parents, Greg and Ruth Geiger, whose love and grace was always greater than my foolishness

Acknowledgments

F ew people read this section but those who do should know I believe the best team in the world, in this space, the space of forming trustworthy books that can impact a person in the middle of the brokenness of this world, worked on this book. B&H, the book publishing division of LifeWay, is amazing. With all respect and admiration, thank you B&H.

Part 1

Imploded Lives

Chapter One

How to Ruin Your Life

Men fall in private long before they fall in public. J. C. Ryle

T o ruin your life, simply allow the foundation of your life to weaken. Then, toppling is inevitable.

If you ignore erosion of your integrity, you will implode. If you shrug at the explosives beneath the surface, explosives that threaten to weaken your character, you will implode. If your competence and gifting outpace your integrity, you will implode. If the weight of your responsibilities and burdens is greater than your character, you will implode. Sadly, some will stand by, watch, and cheer as you toppleand quickly move on to look for the next person they can watch fall.

Some people love to see a good implosion.

While some love the buzz and chatter a ruined life provides, implosions are devastatingly miserable for the person and horribly painful to watch in the lives of people we love. And they are too common.

Too Common

As my leadership team filled our conference room, few people spoke. It was obvious that everyone was anxious to learn why we were gathered for a meeting that had been scheduled only an hour earlier. Glances of what in the world is going on? were shared back and forth as people wondered what prompted this urgent and awkward meeting.

Most of our team had served alongside one another for five years, and this was only the second time an urgent meeting had been called. The previous time was when our board of trustees alerted me to anonymous communication asking them to oust me. So the team knew a meeting called so hastily meant something very somber and serious.

The team that gathered was the one responsible for leading the largest division of LifeWay Christian Resources, the ministry where we served together. We were in the middle of our most fruitful year together and the most fruitful year in the history of LifeWay, as more and more churches and individuals were being served with the resources we provided. Leadership and ministry offer ups and downs, and this year was one of the brightest yearsfilled with laughter, joy, and optimism about the future.

But not this meeting. This meeting was pure pain. Agonizing pain.

I mainly remember the weeping, the prayers that were uttered through tears and lumped throats, and the sharp pain of loss, disappointment, and angst all mixed together. The type of pain that stabs and cuts deep in the gut and steals every few breaths. I dont remember how I shared the news, but I could not look up as I told the team how we would not be able to continue serving with a ministry leader we all loved because of disqualifying behavior in the leaders life.

If only that was the only painful meeting...

One afternoon I received a phone call from a friends attorney, informing me that I was in my friends will and a check was being mailed to my house. It was a numbing phone call as my friend had recently committed suicide. Though once publicly committed to the Lord and an extremely successful businessman, his life spun out of control as he found his worth in his career. As things spiraled downward, he meticulously planned the horrible choice to end his own life, which included putting myself and others in his will. I remember him as a good man, an encourager, a man filled with wisdom.

If only that was the only painful phone call...

Early one morning I walked into our bedroom and my wife Kaye was crying on the phone. When she hung up, she told me that a friend of ours checked himself into a hotel and drank himself to death. In distress, his wife called to tell Kaye that his body was just discovered. His precious daughters played with my daughters many times. He was a supportive and present father, and though he loved his girls, the grip alcohol had on him was fierce.

The frequency of the stories doesnt lessen the pain of each one. Their wake seems to impact everything, even how restaurant booths feel.

Restaurant Booths

There is a restaurant in Nashville that was once one of my favorite spots for lunch. I realized one day, in the middle of a meal, that I was sitting in the same booth I sat in years earlier with a husband, father, and ministry leader I admired. His passion for the Lord was contagious. There was joy in his eyes, the kind of joy that makes some want to ask the server for whatever he is having but makes those of us who have walked with the Lord think, this guy has spent time with Jesus today. His love for people was tangible. How he interacted with the server and others at the table was refreshing. But sitting in the same restaurant booth, reminded me how much had changed in those few years as his marriage had fallen apart and his public ministry was now over.

I looked around the restaurant and saw another booth where another leader and I once sat and dreamed about the future. We planned a project that would serve people well, prayed together, and talked about what the Lord was doing in our lives. But this leader is no longer leading either. With remorse and sadness, I looked at the booths where I previously enjoyed meals with authors and leaders I loved and respected, leaders that I felt loved Jesus more than me. Leaders who sat in those same booths are no longer serving Him in the same way. Their stories, though far from over, have taken dramatic and downward turns.

I rarely eat at that restaurant anymore. The booths are not as comfortable as they once were. Instead they surface feelings of loss, regret, and wondering what could have been different. Moments of gladness have been overshadowed by grief. Their sinful choices impacted more than just their lives as families, churches, and countless others were deeply affected. The restaurant once reminded me of pleasant conversations, and now it reminds me of painful ones, of phone calls and meetings where I have learned that people I love have been disqualified , at least for a season.

Disqualified. There is that word again.

Disqualified and Qualified

I could easily write about a recent story of a well-known leader, coach, college professor, or ministry leader who was removed from a position of influence because of disqualifying behavior, because of issues of character and integrity. However, the story would be old news by the time you read these words because there are always new stories as these implosions continually come to light. Competent and effective leaders in a variety of fields and disciplines forfeit their roles over deficiencies in their character. They were able to lead others but not themselves, able to grow an organization while their hearts grew cold. When a lack of integrity comes to light, leaders can be disqualified.