Exemplary Concern

Just this morning I found an old notebook tucked inside a box of papers.

One sentence had been underlined twice. I smiled the moment I read it.

Years ago, while serving in management at FedEx, I attended a leadership seminar unlike any other. The founders of several of America's most successful companies had gathered to tell the stories behind the businesses they built. It was a remarkable day. Visionaries filled the stage. They shared their brilliant ideas. Success was measured in millions—and in one case, billions.

Among the speakers was Fred Smith, founder of Federal Express. His vision may have only received a C-minus on his thesis paper, but his application forever changed the way the world moves packages "absolutely, positively, overnight."

However, the speaker I remember most wasn't the one who talked the longest or received the loudest applause.

It was Truett Cathy, the founder of Chick-fil-A.

He stepped to the podium with an easy smile and the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly why he had been placed on this earth. Then he said something so simple that I've carried it with me ever since.

"We serve Chick-fil-A sandwiches to the glory of God."

That was it.

No corporate slogan. No carefully crafted branding statement.

Just a humble declaration that the real purpose behind selling chicken sandwiches was to honor the One who made the chickens...and the people eating them.

The room grew noticeably quieter. No shuffling, no coughing. Silence.

His words carried a different kind of authority—not because he demanded attention, but because they rang true. When he finished, the applause was immediate. Yet I suspect many of us were applauding more than a successful businessman. We were applauding a man who had settled, once and for all, who his life belonged to.

That brief sentence has stayed with me for decades.

It is every bit as convicting today as it was then.

I thought of something Frederick Buechner once wrote: "Listen to your life.”

And as that thought lingered, I opened my Bible to Romans 14.

Paul, while using food as an analogy, wasn't discussing restaurant franchises or boardrooms. He was settling arguments over food and religious customs. Yet beneath that discussion lies a truth that reaches into every office, factory, classroom, kitchen, workshop, and church sanctuary.

Whatever you do...Do it for the glory of God.

Whether you're eating prime rib or broccoli... Flying airplanes or fixing plumbing... Writing software, washing dishes, or changing diapers... Leading a corporation or sweeping the warehouse floor...

Do it for Him.

Somewhere along the way we've divided life into "sacred" and "secular," as though God is deeply interested in Sunday mornings but only mildly curious about Monday afternoons.

Scripture knows nothing of that distinction.

Everything belongs to Him.

As I reflected on all of this, I noticed an old dusty award sitting on a shelf. It was one of a few I had received throughout several careers for performing "above and beyond." At the time, I was grateful—and the truth is, probably a little too proud. Awards have a way of polishing the ego if we're not careful.

There's nothing wrong with recognition. Encouragement is a gift.

But years have a wonderful way of rearranging our trophies.

What once looked like evidence of my accomplishments now reminds me of God's kindness.

Every ability I ever possessed was first placed in my hands by Him. 

Every opportunity came because He opened a door I couldn't. Every success rested upon strength I didn't create.

Looking back, I wish I had applied Truett Cathy's lesson much earlier.

The greatest purpose of our work is not making a name for ourselves.

It is making much of His.

One day every award will be placed in storage… or the trash can. Every title will be handed to someone else. Every business card will be discarded.

But anything done for the glory of God will never be wasted.

So today, ask yourself a simple question:

Who receives the credit for the life I'm living?

May the answer become increasingly clear—not merely in our words, but in the quiet faithfulness of everything we do. ___________________

Father, thank You for every gift, every opportunity, and every ability You have entrusted to us. Guard our hearts from seeking our own glory. Teach us to work with excellence, to serve with humility, and to remember that every task—even the smallest ones—can become an act of worship when offered to You. May our lives quietly point others toward Jesus. Amen.

Copyright 2017; revised 2025; July 2026; Gary Landerfelt MyPericope.com