Jason Woodruff

Wisdom is seeing and responding to life situations from a perspective that transcends my current circumstances.

Whether at work, with our families, or in our community, there are times when we are called upon to be leaders and other times when we are followers. Both roles require wisdom and we are all at varying stages of developing that wisdom. We want to make good decisions when we’re in charge and we want to be faithful servants when carrying out the instructions of others. Mark Twain said, “Good decisions come from experience and experience comes from making bad decisions.” Looking back at my career, I definitely some questionable decisions that provided some great experience, or as I like to call them: wisdom-building opportunities.

Jason Woodruff

If you flash back almost 30 years, I was in the army stationed in Germany. Like Forrest Gump, I actually found army life to be fairly uncomplicated. It wasn’t easy; people yelled a lot and there were rules governing almost every aspect of your daily life, but if you just did what you were told, everything worked out okay. During high-stress emergencies, you don’t have time to assess the situation and/or ask “why”, you just obey. You respond with a simple “roger that sarge” and then do whatever it takes to accomplish the mission, trusting the people above you already made those assessments.

I enjoyed my time in the military, but 4 years was enough for me. As my exit date quickly approached, I knew I needed to find a real job in the outside world or I’d be faced with living in my parents’ basement when I got home. I came from a law enforcement family and I’d been a police officer for a couple of years in college, so it seemed like a natural fit to go back into that line of work. Luckily, my cousin Tracy was a state ranger on the Illinois River in Tahlequah and he helped get me hired at that agency while I was still overseas, with a position waiting for me when I got home.

I flew out of Frankfurt on a Friday and by Monday evening I was reporting for duty as a River Ranger. My not-so-in-depth field training consisted of an introduction to my new lieutenant Tommy Fain over dinner at the local BBQ joint, and a halfhearted assurance from my new sergeant (also cousin) Tracy that I “probably knew what I was doing”. Being a cop is like riding a bike, it’ll come back to you. Neither of them yelled at me, which was cool, but Tracy did make me call him “sarge”, which wasn’t.

Jason Woodruff

I spent the next few hours driving the backroads around the river, mainly trying to refamiliarize myself with the area. Just after sunset, a call came out of a large fight in progress underneath Welling Bridge: multiple suspects, weapons involved, several injured, one possibly stabbed – all rangers need to respond emergency status. Luckily, I fell in line behind some other patrol cars as we blasted down the highway, so I could at least follow them without getting lost. As we neared the scene, LT Fain keyed up the radio and gave his commands to the responding troops: “New guy – come in from the east side and we’ll approach from the west”. Correctly assessing that I had no clue which side was east, LT quickly clarified “New guy – as soon as you cross the bridge, just yank a hard left onto that old cow trail – it’ll take you where you need to go”. I had my orders – roger that LT, hard left as soon as I cross the bridge.

As the cavalry charged into Welling, I’m pretty sure I heard Ride of the Valkyries playing over the radio, but I may have imagined that part. I crossed the bridge going about Mach 4, then hard on the brakes, yanked my steering wheel to the left and hard on the gas again. It was dark and I couldn’t see a trail, but my LT said it was there. As my headlights turned to illuminate what was in front of me, I still couldn’t see a trail. As my headlights suddenly pointed sharply downward, still no trail, but I could see a lot of water.
I Dukes of Hazard’ed into the darkness and landed in the middle of the river. As the water came over my hood and then through my windows, I made my way onto the roof of the car, where I waited patiently as the rest of the rangers broke up the fight, tended to the wounded, and arrested those who needed arresting.

When the dust settled, LT and “cousin sarge” came to find their lost pup. Brand new patrol car submerged in the river with the red and blue lights still blinking from the depths (kind of pretty actually). Brand new rookie soaking wet from head to toe. I expected yelling, but LT was surprisingly calm, which was way scarier. After listening to my excited rambling explanation of how I ended up in the river, LT simply used his flashlight to point out the actual trail he was referencing, which was about 50 yards past where I’d turned. Still curious as to my decision-making process, LT inquired: “So, let me get this straight. You didn’t see a trail, you just trusted it was there and turned blindly into the darkness at full speed. Why did you do that?” In my best Forrest Gump voice, I sheepishly replied; “Because you told me to, sir?”.

We all gained some wisdom that night:

• We learned that, as leaders, you should choose your words carefully when giving instructions, because the people following you might literally do exactly what you told them to do, especially it they just got out of the military a few hours earlier.
• We learned, as followers, it’s okay to question orders to make sure you actually understand what is being asked of you, before you act.
• Most importantly, we learned that, whether you’re leading or following, you have to extend some grace when things go wrong.

Mistakes will be made and you will occasionally find yourself up a creek without a paddle. When it happens, remember to extend grace to all those involved, including yourself, and use it as a learning experience in your never-ending journey towards wisdom.