There is a Price for Everything

Proverbs 16:18 (KJV) 18 Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.

Often, we allow pride to creep in, even when we do not see it, nor realize it is happening. Like so many of my conversational articles, I need to get something off my chest—to clear my conscience, I guess. You know, often the Lord speaks to us or convicts us of our actions when we step outside the bounds. In my mind, that is what has happened to me over the past couple of years. Let me lay it out for you.

First, I love to dress up. I love sweaters, suits, wearing a tuxedo, and having nice shoes, and especially hats. My wardrobe is larger than my wife’s, and I have more shoes than she does. Not a boast, just a statement of supporting evidence for our discussion here. These things are not the issue; I have no shame that God has blessed me. The issue is, I am terrified of becoming arrogant…again.

Before diving into that, a little more background. We grew up dirt poor. There’s nothing special about that. However, my mother never allowed us to look dirt poor. We were always clean, with clean clothes, and always fed. Her philosophy was, “While it’s not the best, you’re going to take care of it like it is the best.” She was not trying to make us act like something we were not, but just wanted us to learn to be the best we could with what we had. I was taught that you honor your blessings by being a good steward of those blessings. If you had an old car, keep it clean and maintained—it is a blessing to have. If your clothes were old, still wear them with gratitude—shirt tucked in, belt, clean shoes. We were taught to be thankful for what we had because at the time, everything we had was most certainly a blessing from God.

As I grew up, married, raised our son, and became an influence on our grandson, I always tried to teach and live a life of gratitude. God has blessed me with a good education, a good career, and financial stability. I have always tried to be humble about these blessings, knowing what it is like to live without and knowing that at any time it can all be taken away.

As I said earlier, arrogance became an issue for me. At the time, I did not see it as arrogance, but more as self-confidence. The line of differentiation is thin, and without realizing it, I crossed that line. I was twenty-four years old, fresh out of school, and working in my first job in my field—industrial design. I was actually good at the job. My motto then was, “If it can be done, I can do it.” And as far as the job was concerned, I could. I was a young man, making good money, owned a new pickup truck, a home, and dating the prettiest girl in the county. Life was good. But, I forgot what I had been raised to be. I was not a good steward of God’s blessings and saw my success as coming from my own endeavors. Then came August 8, 1988, at 1:40 p.m.

I worked for a stainless steel custom fabrication shop—well, actually a factory—as a prototype designer. We had designed and were manufacturing sinks for the U.S. Navy to use in the refitting of an aircraft carrier (I don’t remember which one). It was a four-year contract, and we were all making some very good money. By this time, I had moved from the drafting table (yes, it was that long ago) to managing the assembly department of the company. I had one employee who pretty much required constant supervision. Sadly, I was not kind to him. After lunch on August 8, 1988, we ‘resumed our labors,’ as it were. I needed to use our plasma cutter, but when I tried, it would not work. I knew what was wrong and whispered a rare, at the time, prayer, “God, please don’t let the insulator be broken.” Well, it was, and it would be three days before we could get any more into the shop. Our impossible timeline was interrupted, and we would be fined for each day we did not make the necessary deliverables.

I was irate and called all the department employees over and demanded to know who last used the cutter. See, the part that broke would stay together as long as the torch head was not taken apart. I knew it had been, and I wanted to know who did it. My ‘thorn in the flesh’ came forward and admitted he had broken the insulator. In typical, at the time, Kent fashion, I flew into a rage and told the man to go up to the plant manager’s office and wait for me because “this was the last straw.” The guy crowded up in my chest in an aggressive manner, and I pushed him away. As I did, he swung and hit me in the face with the cordless drill he was holding. The drill had an extension and socket on it, and he drove the drill chuck deep. I thought he had just hit me with his fist, so I flew into him, and we fought. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to the hospital.

The attack severed my optic nerve and caused a lot of structural damage, which had to be repaired. Approximately one-fourth of my face had to be reconstructed, and I was permanently blinded in my right eye. But something more important, something deeper, was lost that day…I lost all self-confidence. I saw myself as ugly and unapproachable; I drove my family away, my friends, and the prettiest girl in the county, whom I had planned to marry. I saw myself as Mary Shelley’s monster.

My sense of self declined over the next decade, and soon I was just known as the angry member of the Hesselbein family. Sadly, I began to revel in that fact. My motto then was, “If you don’t want to know, don’t ask me.” My goal was to be the most abrasive and unapproachable human being God allowed to live. This played well into my second career as a law enforcement officer.

But something changed for me in 1995. I met and married my wife. While that is a profound change within itself, it is equal to another change that happened just a year later. My new father-in-law was a lifelong Mason and a very good man. I wanted to be like that, to be human again. So, I asked the right question and am now a year away from thirty years as a Mason.

I have worked hard through those years and have been blessed to rise among the ranks of my esteemed brethren. But my fear is, how do I handle this? I do not know, but I do know that I now have the support and assistance of a worldwide community of like-minded men who will help me become a better man. So, why am I opening up about all this? It’s simple: I do not want to ever be that man I was prior to 1996. God has helped me, called me to His ministry. My brethren have supported me, and now the rest is up to me.

So, my friends, if you ever see me being arrogant, tell me. If you think I am too self-centered, tell me. You see, what I am today has come with a heavy price that I would gladly pay again to be where I am now. Yes, I love my car, my suits, my shoes, and my huge collection of aprons. But they are not what makes me a Mason; they are not what makes me who I am. These things are blessings from God, not something I parade around with in pride, wearing them is my way of thanking God for all these blessings. I seem to be everywhere anymore. I am not there to be seen, but to do my part in thanking God for the wonderful blessing of Freemasonry and the opportunity to be with my Brethren.