Joan of Arc lived from 1412 – 1431. Born a peasants daughter, she had a vision from God and would boldly lead the French army into battle against the invading English. She rallied the French troops. Instead of protecting her at all costs they allowed the English to take her prisoner. Eventually, via a corrupt trial, she was sentenced to burn at the stake. Joan of Arc was nineteen. Her last request?
She asked a wooden cross be placed where she could keep her eyes on it as she burned. She was a Saint.
This past week, I told a client, his wife was Joan of Arc. His eyes greeted mine with a blank stare. Her name did not register. He’s a young business owner. Strong. He’s beginning to learn some history worth remembering. Here’s the melody line when you study humanities roots. Men may be stronger physically. Maybe…
Women are stronger than they think.
I watched my Miss give birth four times. The last two without any pain meds or intervention. Watched her work tirelessly while I traveled and she grinded at home with four little ones and zero help. Was there when nobody praised her efforts and some turned their back. She is a strong Greek/Comanche. Do not mess with her. She is much stronger than me. I could go on.
Watched my mom. Heard her stories of dust bowl and Great Depression. Somehow made her way out of Lacrosse, Kansas into nursing school in Minnesota. Endured multiple miscarriages. Buried two sons (David Michael and Charles Godwin) age one breath and one day. Lost her husband thirty years ago to cancer and simply carried on. She and I do Church together virtually. She’s almost 101 and still inspiring me with her profound strength. She’s a strong German sharecropper whose family took a flyer coming to America and grabbed some land in Great Bend to start a farm of their own. I could go on.
I could tell you about our strong daughter, Krit, and her journey to becoming a business owner and beautiful mother of Viviscosh. She’s strong and raising another strong one. I could go on and on about this one. I’ll stop.
So, next time you hear me calling one of the strong women on your team, “Joan of Arc,” you’ll know the story and you’ll know it’s quite the compliment. Thank God for strong women. Thank you Miss, Mom, Krit, and many more. I, for one, am forever grateful. I know my sorriness would not be here without your strength, courage, and caring.
What about you, friend. What strong Joan of Arc’s are carrying your sorriness? When was the last time you thanked them for bringing their strength to your system? Damn.
Live hard. Love ❤️ harder…
BUILT TO LEAD 
Oh, Chet…a melody line of life we MUST NOT “miss”. For if we do…we “miss” out on the mystery and the power of our “better halves”. The half of us that MAKES us want to be “better” men. God help us men…
“‘The city speculates and guesses,’ Leonidas resumed, ‘as to why I elected those I did to the Three Hundred. Was it for their prowess as individual men-at-arms? How could this be, when among champions such as Polynikes, Dienekes, Alpheus and Maron I nominated as well unblooded youths such as Ariston and your own Alexandros? Perhaps, the city supposes, I divined some subtle alchemy of this unique aggregation. Maybe I was bribed, or paying back favors. I will never tell the city why I appointed these three hundred. I will never tell the Three Hundred themselves. But I now tell you. “‘I chose them not for their own valor, lady, but for that of their women.’
Steven Pressfield. Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae (p. 372).
TOGETHER. Always, ALWAYS TOGETHER.