This is What I Learned From The Funeral of John McCain

Hello, my name is Christy and I watch celebrity funerals. I don't know what that says about me. That my soul is actually 85 years old? That I have nothing better to do on Saturday mornings before the caffeine kicks in? Or that I'm truly very morbid?

This past week our country experienced two very high profile funerals. I heard that Aretha Franklin's lasted seven and a half hours. My dear friends, as you plan your funerals, please don't do that to me. I would definitely have to eat two or three times during this and pee four or five times. So, unless you're serving popcorn...please reconsider.

The second (or actually second and third if you count both) was the funeral for Senator John McCain. John McCain is known as a real American hero, having survived over five years as a POW in Vietnam. He represented our state in the House of Representatives as well as the Senate, where he served six terms. Much of the nation has known him as the man who lost his race for the White House twice, and also as "The Maverick" for his fearlessness in standing up to power and party rigidity. 

As an Arizona native and child of the 80's, some of my earliest understanding of politics includes this man. I think I was still in preschool when I looked up from playing Barbies on the living room floor and said, "Mom, John McCain stand for America, right?" because apparently young children are extremely literal in how they internalize catchy campaign commercial jingles.

I didn't necessarily side with John McCain on every issue. Much like "The Maverick" I'm not sure that I agree with anyone most of the time on politics. I'll let my party affiliation remain a mystery. It doesn't define me. But, over the past two years my interest in his amazing story began growing when we visited his office in Washington D.C.

We were invited by the Melanoma Research Foundation to participate in Hill Day, an opportunity to meet with our representatives, and speak out for initiatives relevant to our cause. Although McCain was out of office that day we had the privilege of meeting with his staffer, who reminded me of a 20 something version of John himself. Just being on that sofa in the waiting room and then sitting at that grand table in his office created a certain awe. The story of his legacy spread out along the wall in pictures. I felt a respect for the road he'd traveled and a special tie to this fellow melanoma warrior like my son. I planned to try scheduling a local meeting back at home. I now regret that I never did, although I did write him thanking him for his staff's hospitality and consideration of our requests.

Watching his funeral I learned several lessons on leadership. 

The first thing I noticed about his funeral was that he was part of a bigger story. A common theme of all of those who eulogized him had to do with his small place in a much bigger picture. I don't point this out because I think that the American story is the same as God's story. And the goosebumps I had as they talked of his love for our country had nothing to do with equating patriotism with godliness.  But, I hope to have a legacy of not living for self just like John McCain. To know that it's not about me at all. My story should be about pointing others to something much bigger and better than me.

The second, and most important, thing I learned is that conflict is okay. I've learned from the work of Donald Miller in the Storyline conference that all good stories have conflict. John wasn't afraid of conflict. 

Recently I saw a quote that says, "If you want to make everyone happy, don't be a leader. Sell ice cream". Source unknown.

This is HARD for me. Can't I do both maybe? John McCain knew the wisdom in not making everyone happy all the time. He'd fight and argue when it was necessary. He knew where to draw the line when it came to cruelty towards those he was called to defend. But he also knew that there's a lot of people we can disagree with and still value and respect. Sometimes we must admit that deep down we want the same things and just have different strategies in getting there.

There was a lesson to be learned from those first two rows on the left, where democrats and republicans sat shoulder to shoulder, passing each other candy when they thought the cameras weren't watching. 

There was a lesson to be learned when a man who so wanted to be president invited the two men he'd argued so passionately with and lost to, to speak at his funeral.

There was a lesson to be learned from the reminder of his part in improving relationships with Vietnam, the country where they tried to break him. 

I hate conflict. I hate even normal conflict, like when my kids don't want to shut off video games or go to bed on time. So, I've spent much of this week wondering why on earth God would call me to a career where conflict is 100% guaranteed. But even as I write this I'm convicted. That it's okay. And we can love and respect even those we disagree with. Because sometimes conflict makes us better.