The Battle No One Sees

October's Core Value is the Golden Rule.

On our site, we put it this way: "We believe in the golden rule and in treating you and everyone exactly how we would like to be treated in regard to honesty, responsiveness, follow-through, and in going the extra mile to ensure that your needs and desires are met."

Most of us learned the Golden Rule before we could tie our shoes. "Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." (Matthew 7:12) It sounds simple. It is simple. But this month I learned something about it I didn't expect to learn, and I learned it standing a few feet behind my son.

More Than Half the Time

Before I tell you that story, I want to share a thought from Henry B. Eyring that I have carried with me for years. He shared that a church leader he served with used to tell him, more than once, as they drove to visit their little branches: "Hal, when you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time." Then Eyring added, "Not only was he right, but I have learned over the years that he was too low in his estimate."

Think about that the next time you drive through your neighborhood. Behind the walls of almost every one of those homes, someone is carrying something heavy. A diagnosis. A marriage under strain. A child who's lost their way. Money that won't stretch. Grief that hasn't gone quiet yet. Most of it never shows up on the porch.

And yet the same people are the ones we meet in line at the store, answer on a customer service call, work beside, and sit next to at church. If Henry B. Eyring is right, and I believe he is, then more often than not the person in front of us is in some kind of trouble. That changes how we ought to treat them.

Wanting It for Them Too

A few weeks ago I ran the Hyrox race here in Salt Lake City with my son Beckham. If you've never been to one, the energy inside that event center is hard to describe. I'm sure there were a few people there who were full of themselves. There always are. But that's not what I felt. What I felt, more than anything, and maybe it's because of the quality of the people around me, was that people genuinely wanted the success of others. Strangers cheering for strangers. Competitors pushing each other forward.

I believe that is one of the greatest signs of a person who is whole, healthy, and content with who they are. They are okay with the success of others. More than okay. They actually want it for them.

So here's a question worth asking ourselves: Do you want for others what you'd want for yourself? Not just the courtesy you'd want. The wins you'd want. The good news you'd want. The second chance you'd want. That question lines us up with the Golden Rule about as squarely as anything I know.

The Row

Somewhere in the middle of that race, we came off the burpee broad jumps, and I'll be honest, some pretty serious nausea set in for me. We pushed through the 1 KM run and went straight into the next station, a 1,000 meter row. Beckham and I had decided to split it 50/50, and he jumped on the machine first.

From where I was standing, he was doing great. He never skipped a beat. His pace stayed steady the entire time. What I couldn't see from behind him was his face.

I found out afterward, through photos and through family and friends who were watching from the side, what was really happening. A young man giving it absolutely everything he had, under extreme pain and the full weight of that challenge. Everyone watching could see it on his face. Everyone except me. In a moment where a lot of people would have tapped out, Beckham closed his eyes, dug deep, and finished his portion in great time.

When I learned what he had gone through, I wrote him this letter.

Beckham,

I want you to remember this picture.

I was standing right behind you in this moment, and I had no idea how much pain you were in.

This station was ours to split 50/50. You could have stopped early and let me take over. But you didn't. No one would have blamed you, and had I known how much pain you were in, it would have been hard for me to hold back my help.

Afterward, family watching from the side told me you closed your eyes and just kept going.

When I look at this picture now, that gets me.

I'm your dad. I was only a few feet away from you, and even I couldn't see the battle you were fighting.

Your pace never gave it away. You just kept pulling. You kept hurting. You kept your commitment. And you finished your half.

Beckham, I am so proud of you. Not because you were strong enough to complete your portion. I'm proud of you because when it hurt enough to quit, you chose not to.

There's a lesson in this picture that I hope both of us remember for the rest of our lives.

Sometimes the people right next to us have no idea what we are going through. We can look like we're still "on pace." Still working. Still smiling. Still showing up. Still carrying our load.

But inside, we may be fighting a battle no one else can see. God sees it.

He sees what your Dad couldn't see standing just a few feet behind you. He knows the pain we don't talk about. He knows when we feel like we have nothing left and are still trying to take one more pull.

And I believe, and I know, that He gives us strength beyond what we knew we had. Strength beyond what we could bring on our own. Strength that can only come through Him and His Son.

Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught: "It is your reaction to adversity, not the adversity itself, that determines how your life's story will develop."

Beckham, there will be moments in your life when the weight you're pulling will be far heavier than anything you pulled that day. There will be times when life hurts, when you're exhausted, when you can't see the finish, and when you wonder if you have anything left.

When those days come, I hope you remember this picture. Remember that young man who closed his eyes and kept pulling.

Close your eyes. Hold on. Give it everything you have. Trust God. And keep pulling.

And always remember, whether I can see the battle you're fighting or not, I'll be right there behind you, ALWAYS.

I love you, Beck. I could not be more proud to be your dad.

- Dad

If I Couldn't See It

Here's what keeps hitting me. I'm his dad. I was right there. And I still couldn't see the pain he was in.

If I can miss that with my own son, a few feet away, what am I missing with the customer on the other end of an email? The teammate who seems a little short today? The neighbor who didn't wave back? The driver who cut me off on I-15? They may look like they're on pace. Still working. Still smiling. Still showing up. And they may be fighting a battle I will never see.

That picture of Beckham has made me want to be more aware of the people around me. And since I usually can't see the battle, it's made me want to be kind anyway. More encouraging. More supportive. A little less judgmental. A little less demanding.

Seek First to Understand

It also brings me back to one of Stephen R. Covey's best-known principles: "Seek first to understand, then to be understood."

So often in life, we want to be understood. We want our side heard, our effort recognized, our reasons considered. That's human. But I've found it is so much better, and honestly so much easier, to be understood when I've first taken the time to appreciate and understand the person I'm talking to. When I know what someone is carrying, I talk to them differently. I listen differently. And they tend to hear me differently too.

At MTN OPS, this is what the Golden Rule looks like on an ordinary Tuesday. It's answering the message quickly because we'd want a quick answer. It's being honest when honesty is inconvenient. It's following through on what we said we'd do. It's going the extra mile, not because a policy says to, but because we'd want someone to go it for us. And it's assuming, more than half the time, that the person on the other side of that interaction might be going through something hard.

As God Would Do Unto You

The Golden Rule can be looked at a lot of ways. But in the end, here's how I've come to say it:

"Do unto others as you would have God do unto you."

God sees the battles we don't show anyone. He meets us with patience when we've earned impatience. He gives strength when we've got nothing left. He wants our success more than we want it ourselves. If that's how we'd want to be treated by Him, then that's the standard for how we treat each other.

So here's my challenge for October, to you and to myself. Assume the person in front of you is carrying something. Want for them what you'd want for yourself. Seek to understand them before asking to be understood. And be the kind of person who, even when you can't see the battle, is right there behind them, cheering them on.

God bless.

Keep Conquering.

Trevor Farnes
Founder | MTN OPS