haters gonna hate

My brother has a lot on his plate. Particularly since Dad passed away. He’s taken over Dad’s business, with the help of my dad’s study group. And specifically with Carrie Hall as his mentor – she’s a top New York Life agent who partnered with my dad, and continues to visit Houston monthly.

He has had a lot of support, and my mom, me, his wife, his in-laws, tons of friends, are all here if he ever felt it was too much – on top of it being a huge stressful job, he’s walking in my dad’s footsteps each day. He sits at his desk. He talks to his clients. It’s emotionally draining. I know in many ways it’s also healing. But, it's also exhausting.

Wait, don’t get the wrong idea - I am not about to throw the kid a pity party. He signed on for this, he’s bringing home a lot of bacon, he gets to take his dogs to work! That said, I know I need to say “Way to Go, Gentry!” a lot more than I do. The kid has been thrown a mountain of bricks, and he’s managed to dodge all but a few of them. He has handled all that is on his plate beautifully.

Recently at the Love Does conference I heard a speaker that I wish I would have recorded for Gentry. The speaker’s words were a relief to hear; I literally felt a weight lifted as he spoke.

The devil is real, we've noticed since last September. There is, in fact, a battle going on, one I gave very little thought to before we were put under such trial and went through such loss. I even scoffed at people who said things like “the battle” and “Satan’s grip.” I scoffed largely because I had never felt it so undoubtedly. 

God was given a lot of glory through my dad’s death – his memorial service was uplifting, sparked so many conversations about people wanting to do more with their life, live fully, love on their kids. Not that my dad was perfect- ha!- but he lived his life with zest. He built relationships everywhere he went. He loved on people.

About a week after my dad’s service, all hell broke loose in several ways. I don’t know if my mom said it or someone else, my memory is cloudy, but it went like this: “Too much good was coming out of Tom’s service. Just as God is good and restores things, satan breaks them down.” It made me think of the first part of one of my dad’s favorite verses: A thief comes in the night to destroy. John 10:10. Yep. That thief keeps on comin’.

Haters are always gonna hate.

This speaker, Jon Acuff, said that at the Love Does conference. He was laugh out loud funny but so real, so wise.

He also said this (I took a lot of notes):

People are looking for a scandal.

Haters never bother losers.

I thought, he’s right: you really have to be somebody, you have to intimidate people or threaten them or make them insecure or whatever – if you have a bunch of people hating on you, you’re somebody. When you stand for something, people hate on you. Nothing worth having comes easy, they say.

People who are doing stuff, they got haters.

My dad didn't let too much get him down, and when he did, he kept it quiet – sharing troubles with just my mom, or a few friends. He was very positive, roll it off your shoulder kind of guy. Very optimistic. Always told us “what do you have to lose by just asking? Just trying? Nothing.”

I know my brother wishes he could talk to Dad daily – about business, and marriage, and wives that aren’t always on time but are really good lookin’-about Colorado, and football, and anything.

I know he still wants his approval, that “you done good” feeling that feels best from those you love most.

Dad would say something like this to G, I think:

When things seem too good to be true, people start looking for a scandal. Haters gonna hate. But so what? Let em. Prove em wrong. Only you are in charge of you. Don’t let them get you down. People can be hateful, petty, bothersome. Get your work done, and then: be done. Play. Go outside.

Gentry and Dad played softball together when G was in high school. I only made it to 2 games but it was hilarious to watch. There was my dad, 48 or 50 or whenever it was, sliding into third with shorts on, getting his knees and legs bloody and gross, just for the sake of winning.

I can see Dad’s feet moving so fast around the bases, his eyes shifting from the baseman to whoever had the ball, calculating if he could make it to the next base in time- could he push it home?

He was short, and old, and really probably lots of people were yelling “You’re crazy, Tom! Slow down!” 

But he couldn't hear the haters. He was having too much fun.

That’s what I think he would tell Gentry. Be busy having so much fun and enjoying your life that nothing, no one, can keep you down. Let the haters hate, let them fuel you to run faster, be better, whatever. This is your one life. I figured out it can seem pretty short. So…Bring. It. On.

And also, I’m so stinking proud of you, Tiger!