What Happens in Vegas

The important lesson John learned on a recent trip to Sin City.

Ever heard the expression, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?”

Yeah, me too!

An experience last week, however, reminded me that it is not always true. Sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay there. Sometimes, it absolutely remains with us when we return home. Let me explain.

Whether basking in the bright lights on a big stage at a massive arena in Las Vegas or speaking on a gym floor with fluorescent ceiling lights dimly shinning down in a middle school, my favorite aspect of speaking has never been the time on the stage nor the collective audience laughs and cries and gasps and cheers as we progress through the program.

For me, the best part of speaking has always occurred after wrapping up, walking off stage and heading to the back of the room. It’s the opportunity to meet with individuals. It’s the honor of hearing their stories. It’s the chance to learn how our message positively impacted their life.

Off stage and in the back of the room, after the initial fist bump or hug, individual audience members generally hand me a book to sign. I’ll ask their name and what their main takeaway was from the keynote. As I get ready to sign, I often ask: “When you aren’t working, what do you like to do?” I want to know about them. Not the buttoned-up professional in front of me, but the reason why we do the work in first place.

These new friends immediately open up.

They’ll share about heartache growing up, difficulties in their finances, an unwanted diagnosis or a recent loss. They’ll talk about the inability to have kids, or getting pregnant seemingly too early in life or taking in someone else’s kids after a tragic accident. They’ll talk about their faith, their doubt, their addictions, their aspirations. In other words, they just honesty share their life.

It’s humbling, it’s inspiring, and it’s ultimately not only the best part of what I do, it’s why I do the work in the first place.

A similar experience happened last week in Las Vegas. As a line of more than 100 individuals formed to have their books signed, I got to hear each of their stories. Every conversation was meaningful, every person touched my heart. And although all the words they shared moved me, it was the acute silence in one of my conversations that moved me to tears.

He approached in a wheelchair. His assistant handed me his phone and shared that Steve had ALS and was unable to speak, but wanted me to know something.

I read what he’d typed.

Today.

You reminded me.

That my life still had value.

Thank you.

I knelt beside his wheelchair and hugged him. We just stayed like that, this long embrace, both of us crying.

With the help of his daughter-in-law and his trusty phone, we discussed his pain, his tingling in his hands, how quickly this disease progressed in the past 12 months. And we talked about the power of prayer, the possibility of miracles and the hope that tomorrow may somehow be even better than today.

My friends, I don’t remember what hotel I stayed while in Las Vegas last week.

I don’t recall if I rented a car or took an Uber. I didn’t have any interest in gaming or going out; I didn’t have time for meals or shows. In other words, so much of my experience in Las Vegas is already a blur further validating the slogan that what happens there, stays there.

But I do remember Steve.

I do remember that powerful encounter, the words he shared, the joyful courage he exuded, and the tears we both cried. And I remember coming home changed, different and better.

Because as a man who often looks in the mirror and isn’t thrilled with what I see staring back at me, I was reminded that it’s good enough, even miraculous. As a person who gets homesick on the road and sometimes wonders if my work matters, I was reminded that it does.

So, I wanted to type something to Steve this Monday:

Today.

You reminded me.

That my life still had value.

Thank you.

Steve profoundly inspired me while we were together. His vibrancy remains with me today. And his words will inform how I show up for others tomorrow.

My friends, this is your day. Live Inspired.