Over the past 18 months I have been participating in a leadership training program called Executive Arrow, from Arrow Leadership. The training is exceptional, equipping leaders from across North America “to be led more by Jesus, to lead more like Jesus and to lead more to Jesus.”
In this course we studied many aspects of the life of a leader and executive leadership as it applied to our various organizations and companies – a mix of not-for-profit and for-profit companies. Through this journey of three one week modules in Quebec, Vancouver and Phoenix I was part of an intimate group called a ‘leadership cluster’. In this small group of four, we shared family and leadership hardships, joys and challenges. We laughed, cried and prayed together – we formed a bond. In my group were Karen, Robert and Dorcas. I was inspired deeply by each of these leaders and the focus of their vision and calling. We spent 18 months mutually spurring each other on to better leadership and more submissive Lordship.
In our third week together in Phoenix this January, (when it was cold and snowing in Ontario) I had to ask a question. Something had been bugging me ever since the first introduction to my group … ever since my first under-my-breath chuckle at the sound of the name Dorcas. So I did it, I asked her, “Do you like the name Dorcas?”
Dorcas, the 49 year old mothering, encouraging, cheery woman got mad! I said, “When I went home after our first session together, I told my 7 year old son the names of the people in my leadership cluster and he laughed when I told him your name. Do you get that often?” (You have to understand that this was asked with sincerity and at the right time and place.) Dorcas replied that all her life she had to repeat her name. When people would say things like, “Is this your real name?”, “Did your parents hate you?”, or “You must be kidding!”, she would curl up inside and bashfully say, “well my parents named me after a biblical character who was a very wonderful woman and . . .” Explanation after explanation her whole life long.
Then she said, “But I wasn’t always Dorcas.” “What!” the group gasped! “Why did you change it?” Dorcas went on to tell us a story about when she was 12 years old. “We had moved to a new town; it was the first day of junior high and I was a tiny little thing, The teacher told us to start at the back right hand side of the room, and tell the class our name. Smack dab in the centre of the class was perhaps the largest grade 7 student I had ever seen. And she looked nasty. She opened her mouth and this loud, low, angry voice said, “My name is Dori Tippe.” In a split second, I was Dorcas. I knew who she would pick on if I said my name was also Dori. From that moment on, I have been Dorcas.”
We all sat silent. . There was deep hurt, regret and anger in her voice. That simple classroom introduction has had such a dramatic impact on her life. I had no idea how important the next words out of my mouth would be, or how redeeming – I said, “Well then Dorcas, from now on you will be known as Dori!” I looked around the group and they all agreed.
For the rest of the week whenever she or anyone else would refer to her as Dorcas, we would correct them. When her husband arrived later that week, we had to inform him of this change (that was fun!). This thing was getting big, so much so that the staff at Arrow started picking up on it and together we decided to surprise her by presenting her graduation certificate in the name “Dori”.
I can’t tell you how powerful this name change was for Dori. She calls it her Jubilee experience, taking back what was hers – it felt like starting all over! The name of her childhood had been redeemed and she could head off into life not having to answer those questions about her name again!
When I arrived home from Arrow I told my kids this story about Dori, they loved it … and at our next staff meeting I told it again. It’s such a warm story of reclaiming that which was lost . . . I was aware of a lump in my throat as I began to think about all the youth that we know in our mission at Youth Unlimited.
So many of the youth we know have been in situations where the slightest circumstance or the heaviest blow has caused a dramatic change in their lives, many of them when they were too young to have any ability to deflect or reject that changing influence. I was especially thinking of a young man who I visit weekly in jail. A young man, who when he was a boy suffered unconscionable things at the hand the adults who were supposed to be giving him love and life. Now his anger, his ingrained responses have set a path for him with consequences he will have to live with for a lifetime.
Then I thought of our role in all this; we are like deflectors in the cycle of trouble. Seeing the consequence coming, we redirect the flow of the circle … helping kids turn around the other way. We come alongside, befriend and offer guidance and presence in the lives of many, many youth – in some, we are even able to see their hardships bypassed and lives redeemed through the love of Jesus and His people.
For the past 30 years, Kawartha Youth for Christ has played this role in the lives of youth and we are working on the next thirty years as I write.
Update on the Dori story – from an e-mail received April 3, 2008
Hi Tim – This is so funny. Just yesterday I was thinking I really should email Tim and just tell him what an uplifting change this name change has been in my life…I am serious. It’s amazing. People actually use my name now – a lot – and with a sort of light-hearted non-chalance. For example, I bought a mattress the other day, and it was such a delight. The lady used my name – Dori at least 7 times – and without hesitation, without apology, without verification – and with a smile! I have experienced this over and over and over again. I just LOVE it! Thank you, Tim.
Well I’m back on my feet again after spraining my ankle last weekend. Not that I ever really stopped, (its funny the number of people who said, “See, the Lord is using this to slow you down.”) I too took it as a slow down, but to be honest, it didn’t really have that effect, oh, I took the odd afternoon nap with my swollen foot up in ice, but I was actually plesently pleased at how quickly I was back on my feet again. I was even able to do a short run this morning, which is what I was lamenting the most with this ankle injury.
What’s wrong with this picture? Well, I haven’t even made it out of the long weekend and I am already sidelined by a sprained ankle. No, I don’t have a broken toe, that’s just “Rayfield” genes, my brother has the same toe . . . just not quite as pronounced. 
Ok, it’s late. I need to go to bed, but I can’t even think of going to bed after just having finished my final newsletter communication to my supporters at YFC, telling them of my blogging journey this summer.
