Once upon a time, I wanted to be a history maker—a hero—someone who did extraordinary things. Maybe you can relate and remember what it was like when you were told by very well-meaning people that you could do anything if you put your mind to it. Like, be an astronaut, cure cancer or win the Stanley Cup. I wanted to be someone like that. For the most part, I think my intentions were noble. Honestly, I want to help people. I believe I have something to offer people who are hurt and need support. When all is said and done, and I've passed away, I would hope people would say, "Hey, that Jordan, he changed things. He made a difference in the world." Now that I'm over 40 years old, I realize that I'm remarkably ordinary. I been passed over for jobs that I wanted; I've experienced being last picked for the team. I'm not the super-star I hoped I could be when I was a teenager.

Last week, I was blessed to have had the chance to take a quick vacation to Chicago, a beautiful city with a lot of history. Like Edmonton and I think most cities, Chicago has a lot of statues of people of well-known figures in American history. I tend to notice the statues in the cities I visit, and I try to learn what I can from these history-making individuals whose likeness is on display. These days, like many of you, I'm questioning whether we should be building statues, idols, and shrines for people who are no more human than you or I.

I'm not opposed to honoring those who've changed the course of history; we can learn a great deal from the lives of famous people. I'm also not downplaying the hard work of these individuals. However, we do ourselves a disservice if we fail to recognize that we are elevating their lives and legacies to a level that distorts our perspective. It's great to name a school, a road, or an airport after a famous person! Until the day, we learn that they were not, in fact, super-human. When the history we uncover reveals the crimes of our heroes and their legacies of pain -it can be costly to return them to their human status. Statues all eventually crumble. No matter how great we become, the truth will continuously chip away at our super-human status. When we elevate human beings to an unsustainable level, it's hard to watch them crash to the ground. It's devasting if you are the one, like Icarus, who flew too close to the sun and fell to the earth.

I'm at the point where I think I understand my strengths and talents and where I can help, but I'm also aware that an epic hero will never be a label that sticks to my reputation. I'm ok with that. So here is my life's aim.

I want to be a good man. A reasonably good human who can have a coffee or a beer with anyone who wants to talk. I want to be someone who might be able to add value to your day. I want to be easy to reach and someone who can make it home every night to make dinner for my family and put my children to bed. As a culture, we don't sculpt statues of reasonably good, mediocre human beings. However, the world would be a better place if we stopped elevating brands and people to unrealistic levels. Expect great things from people but accept their humanity. Extend this same grace to yourself.

You were created to be a human being. Let's all try to be good at that.

Friend, thank you for reading!