Have you ever looked at your manger scene, placed prominently for everyone who enters your home, and wondered why your life seems like a mess compared to the peace presented by the creche?  Mary, prayerfully kneeling before her newborn baby.  Joseph standing nearby, pondering how God would use this infant to accomplish His purposes.  Shepherds, dirty and overlooked, who were invited by angels into a scene they could not understand.  Magi, men who (we pretend) were there after this God-birth happened. And baby Jesus himself, tucked into the straw of a dirty manger.

Luke 2 tells us that after the birth of Jesus, a host of angels appeared to the straggly shepherds and told them to travel to Bethlehem.  At first terrified, the shepherds soon put away their fears and hurried to view this newborn. Estimates are they traveled between two and six miles, all at night. After their encounter with the Messiah, they “spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child.”  All who heard the shepherds’ report were “amazed” by this report (not amazed like we are when our daughter makes cheerleader or when the stock market takes an up-turn).  The Greed word used here for “amazed” is “thaumazo”; it means stopped in their tracks.

There they were, looking at God in human form, the One who was the answer to all the scriptures they had learned.  One minute, caring for helpless, stupid sheep, and the next…looking at perfection.  Heaven had come to the hillside in the middle of the night, proving that God’s presence isn’t limited to Holy places or to Holy people.  God had not chosen kings or Levitical priests or religious Pharisees to announce His coming in human form.  He chose a group of men who had no credentials.  No surprises there.  After all, He delights in using ordinary people for extraordinary purposes.

What does surprise me is what the shepherds did after this miraculous encounter.  Unlike many of us, they did not go on a speaking circuit or write a book or sit at the gate to their city, signing autographs.  Scripture says that they returned to their sheep.  They went back to herding and protecting animals that follow each other off cliffs.  They returned with gladdened, worshipful hearts and tongues filled with praise to do what they knew how to do.

I frequently meet people who want to have the celebratory experience of speaking to huge crowds of people, when instead, God wants them to be used right where they are, no matter how mundane their job status or where they live. All can learn from this story.  From humble beginnings to divine callings, shepherds are integral figures in this biblical narrative, serving as symbols of faith, humility, and divine favor.  We need to do likewise.

No matter where we work or live, we all have the opportunity to follow the lead of the shepherds: to obey, to follow, to worship and to share.  As Christmas approaches, let us all be mindful of our call to do the same.

When the noise resolution was presented on Monday, the commissioners’ lawyer said it should be given to the planning committee. After hearing this recommendation, Beerbower moved to vote on it in the current meeting. He and Tran passed it over Milburn’s objections.

If you read through what they voted for, you’ll notice something interesting  in  this  section:
Now you might see the term “heating toss” and assume it is a misspelling that just went unnoticed. Perhaps the commissioners who voted for it treated the whole adage of “read things carefully before you vote for them” just like the “listen to your lawyer.” Stuff like that might be nice to say, but don’t let it get in the way of creating new regulations for the taxpayers. What good is a commission meeting if the citizens have the same legal rights after the meeting as they had before?

So while you might think they didn’t actually take the time to read it, why assume the worst?  I’d like to suggest that we assume the best!

Let’s assume Beerbower and Tran DID indeed read it carefully, thought through exactly the repercussions of what the document says, carefully examined any side effects, and believe it does exactly what they want to see enacted for the betterment of Bourbon County. If we make those assumptions, maybe “heating toss” is the name of a game, a time-honored tradition that has been played in Bourbon County all the way back to the time when dragoons camped at Fort Scott, and bison roamed the plains.

The game is often called “hot potato.” With careful reflection, Tran and Beerbower have determined that they want to prevent people from playing “Heating Toss” (aka “hot potato”) in Bourbon County. You may think it is a harmless game, but they know better and have made a law to fine people who introduce this hated game (well, hated by two of the commissioners anyway) into the county. It is for the betterment of the county as a whole! You may think that you’d rather live in a county where commissioners do not waste their time making laws against various children’s games, but you’d be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Your government knows better. You may just be too dumb to understand.

That’s the optimistic view that assumes they carefully read what they voted on. Or maybe, just maybe, they just didn’t take the time to read what they were voting for.

Had they read it, you’d think they might have questioned whether it was a good idea to fine people $500 for “any noise” that is greater than 45 dB at 75 feet between the hours of 10 pm and 7 am.   That is a level of sound that includes things like older air conditioning units, a dog barking, a donkey braying, or starting a semi.

But surely they wouldn’t vote for something they didn’t fully understand or hadn’t read. Right?

PDF of the noise resolution in the agenda packet from 12/18

FROM THE BLEACHERS-739

BY DR. JACK WELCH

Decision or Commitment

There is a powerful difference between making a decision and making a commitment. Most people understand how to decide. Decisions are often easy to speak aloud, easy to applaud, and easy to celebrate in the moment. Commitment, however, is proven only over time. It requires action, discipline, and sometimes sacrifice when enthusiasm fades.

Imagine standing in a church on a wedding day. The groom looks into the eyes of his beautiful bride, his voice trembling, a tear forming as he speaks words of devotion: “Forsaking all others until we are parted by death.” Everyone in the room is moved. The words are strong. The decision is clear. We admire what appears to be a lifelong promise.

Now imagine learning a week later that while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon, the groom was unfaithful. In that instant, the words spoken on the wedding day lose their power. What once sounded noble and heartfelt becomes hollow. The decision he proclaimed was not validated by faithful commitment. Without commitment, words carry no weight.

This distinction matters far beyond personal relationships. It shows up every day in the workplace. Organizations often make decisions in meetings: new initiatives, new expectations, new strategic plans, and bold visions for the future. Departments nod in agreement. Leaders voice support. The decision feels unified and optimistic.

A decision without commitment is little more than wishful thinking. True progress happens only when every department commits to the decision that was made. Commitment means aligning daily actions with the plan, even when it becomes inconvenient or uncomfortable. It means resisting the urge to quietly do things the old way while publicly supporting the new one. It means ownership, accountability, and follow-through.

Being invited into the decision-making process is important. Being heard matters.  Once a direction is set though, commitment is what moves an organization forward. Without it, teams drift, trust erodes, and momentum is lost. Just like in that wedding story, the words may have sounded right, but the actions tell the real story.

Decisions announce intention. Commitments prove character. From the bleachers, it’s easy to cheer when decisions are made. Leadership, however, is revealed in what happens after the applause fades. The question is never, “Did we decide?” The real question is, “Did we commit?” A decision defines direction, but commitment determines distance.

Thought for the Week, “What truly matters is not what we say we will do, but what we faithfully follow through on when no one is watching.” Rodney Southern, Athletic Director/Head Football Coach at Copperas Cove High School

Dr. Jack Welch serves as President of Fort Scott Community College. With a career spanning professional sports, public education, and rural community development, he brings a servant-leader mindset and a passion for building trust-driven cultures that empower people to thrive in the classroom, on the field, and in life. He is also the author of Foundations of Coaching: The Total Coaching Manual.