THE U.S. AIR FORCE HAS SPECIAL-USE AIRSPACE IN THE GULF OF Mexico, where pilots execute war exercises and test a variety of weapon systems. These spaces are called military operating areas (MOAs) and comprise hundreds of square miles off the coast of the Florida Panhandle. In the MOA, we are permitted to operate from the surface up to 60,000 feet with no airspeed limitations. We can fly supersonic, shoot missiles, and deploy countermeasures such as chaff* or flares.* These vast MOAs serve as the home of the Weapon System Evaluation Program (WSEP). The exercises allow WSEP to ensure that the pilots and weapons perform under the pressure of actual live-fire conditions. During standard training sorties, we simulate firing missiles. With the help of sophisticated debriefing tools, we can assess whether the missile would have hit the other aircraft, although there is no way to 100 percent validate the shot. But at WSEP, I had the once-in-a-career opportunity to shoot a live AIM-120 AMRAAM.* In this high-pressure arena, I got to test myself and the Air Force weapon system, and managers had a forum to verify the system performance, capabilities, and limitations of the missile.
It was February, and the winter weather patterns presented some serious challenges for our sorties.
We brief air-to-air training rules before each sortie that are designed to keep our missions as safe as possible. One of the most critical training rules we follow is to always have a discernible horizon. In the dynamic regime of high speed, high G, and inverted flight attitudes, a discernible horizon helps us immediately decipher up versus down. Trust me, it can be hard to comprehend which way is up or down, and it’s especially difficult during the winter, when rain and fog affect visibility and we commonly experience the “milk bowl” effect. This happens when hazy conditions cause the ocean and sky to become a mirror image of each other. We have to be extremely vigilant while flying in the milk bowl because it can be nearly impossible to determine the orientation of the jet. The bubble canopy of the F-16 has blessed me with the most majestic views of my life, but it is also the perfect environment for spatial-D. The Viper is such a perfect flying machine, and in the weather it can feel motionless. Without a proper cross-check of your instruments, you can become spatially disoriented and find yourself in a dangerous or deadly situation.
It was a milk bowl morning as we took off out of Tyndall Air Force Base. I was nervous as we pressed into the airspace with a live AIM-120 on my wing—cost: $1.1 million.
Tribe 1, turn left 180 climb to 11,000—cleared into whiskey 151.
Just a couple minutes after takeoff, we were established in the confines of the MOA. We checked in with range control and I quickly ran another BIT (built-in test) check on the missile to make sure it was ready to shoot.
Tribe 1 target bullseye 180-65 . . .
I moved the cursor on my air-to-air radar to that location and waited impatiently for the QF-4* remote-controlled drone to appear on my radar screen. I pushed forward on the stick with my right thumb so my APG-65 radar would put more energy in that location. The QF-4 appeared as a small gray square and I locked on.
Tribe 1 targeted 180-30 . . .
I pressed down on the red pickle button and looked out to my right wing. Flames shot from the missile’s motor as it quickly separated from my F-16. I was traveling at Mach 1.1, but the powerful AIM-120 made me feel like I was standing still. I watched its arcing climb into the pale gray sky, and as the missile went out of sight I snipped (broke) my lock on the QF-4.
The AMRAAM is unique because pilots don’t have to support it with a radar lock until it hits the target; it is a fire-and-forget missile. But I will never forget that day. As I continued to fly south, I began to see . . . a fireball spinning sideways? What in the world? I thought. It quickly became clear that my AMRAAM had malfunctioned and I was now traveling much faster than it! Within seconds, I caught up to the out-of-control missile and it helicoptered just a few feet over my canopy. I was almost the first pilot in history to shoot himself down.
Tribe 1—knock it off!
On the flight back to base, I replayed the bizarre and somewhat terrifying events in my mind. My mistake had nothing to do with the missile going stupid, but with my violating a training rule. I had locked the correct target, but in my excitement fired before I received clearance from the range control. It all turned out fine, but my young fighter-pilot ego was bruised after a very long debrief.
One of the primary reasons why the fighter-pilot community is so effective is that we walk into the debrief and check our egos at the door. The debrief is a time-honored tradition that calls for brutal and honest feedback. One of the most valuable lessons I have learned in our community is taking responsibility for our mistakes and not making excuses. We call this owning it.
The skies over the Gulf of Mexico may have been a milk bowl the day of my missile shoot at Tyndall, but there is a bright and clear light of integrity that permeates our business. Outside of that environment, the rest of the world’s moral horizon is frequently clouded, and the difference between right and wrong is often poorly adjusted to fit our personal situations. Look no further than your local news channel to see how our perspective about the world is shaped by negative stories; even sadder is the fact that we thrive on hearing these examples, using them as counterweights to our own experiences. The notion of watching people fail is a sad footnote of our society. We should be celebrating when others succeed, rooting them on, yet we are so quick to go against our humanitarian instincts.
During one of my biggest trials, I struggled to keep sight of my moral horizon. It was the first big wreck of my life and it took place at The Patriot, the ambitious golf course project I started in Owasso, Oklahoma, designed by famous golf course architect Robert Trent Jones Jr. on an exquisite but challenging piece of land. It started with zero dollars and a dream, but with the help of my dad I had managed to put together forty-five founding members and finances to build it. One year into our construction, and while I was halfway around the world in Iraq, the Great Recession had hit. When I returned to Tulsa, I should have been out of the fight. Instead, I found myself in a new battle to save a golf course that was months behind schedule and 50 percent over budget, with my remaining funds set to run out in sixty days.
In my desperation, I entered the milk bowl. My pride got the best of me and my first instinct was to spin the situation in defense of myself, my family, and my finances. It took time to find my moral horizon, but I ultimately found the courage to fail. I owned it. The Patriot was going down and I was going down with it. I needed help. Humility and the truth, as they so often do, inspired unity. Thankfully, my partners, Paul, Sanjay, David, Tom, and Dad, stayed the course and stayed together. I am proud that today The Patriot is thriving.
Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality. Without courage, men and women will fail to be loving, to sacrifice, to count the cost, to tackle the challenges or take on the responsibilities that God calls them to.
—C. S. Lewis
It’s easy to do the right thing when you are flying in CAVU skies, but flying in the milk bowl requires courage and deep character. Yet all around us are abundant examples of companies and individuals who choose to preserve their ego and image over their integrity. Look at giant companies like Enron, Volkswagen, Bear Stearns, and Boeing. The actions they took when things went wrong made their situations worse, and in some cases unrecoverable.
One of my heroes, Lance Armstrong, inspired me with his many accomplishments on a bike and through the good works of his foundation. But when it was uncovered that he had been using performance-enhancing drugs, instead of taking responsibility, he tried to justify his actions by explaining that this was a widespread phenomenon in his sport. He had lost his moral horizon. The fallout that resulted is one from which he will likely never fully recover.
Be accountable and humble, and do your best to make it right. Own it just like we do in the fighter-pilot debrief.
You will encounter situations that vector you into the milk bowl. Be aware of losing sight of the moral horizon and fight against the urge to justify or compromise your actions. When I was struggling to find a way out of my own personal milk bowl, it was clear that my faith was not strong enough. While reading scripture one night, I encountered the story of James and John in Mark 3:16–17—yet another example of synchronicity, as this passage came to me at a time when I subconsciously screamed out for help.
I would discover that James and John were unique among the twelve apostles in their tendency to say whatever was on their minds. It was this kind of gusto that prompted Jesus to give them the name Boanerges, which means “sons of thunder.” Jesus did this so that they might become thunderous and courageous men of faith instead of pursuing their own selfish ideas, as they had previously done.
Over the course of their lives, James and John became transformed by their love of God and learned to share their faith with the world. John would go on to write of Jesus’s origins, his preachings, his acts of performing miracles, and his trial, crucifixion, and resurrection in the Gospel of John. The “apostle of love,” as he is called, uses Jesus’s lessons to demonstrate love and equity. James also went on to live a life of service to Jesus. He remained outspoken, but this time by spreading Jesus’s message.
I was inspired by these brothers’ transformation and dedication to something bigger than themselves. They pushed aside their own desires and fully committed themselves to spreading the word of Jesus Christ. They achieved virtuous acts as a result of their connection to their lifelong horizon. I too thought of myself as a “faithful” Christian who attended Catholic mass weekly with my family, but I realized I rarely shared my faith outside the confines of my local parish. Was I just going through the motions? Was my sense of faith deep enough to keep me from ending up in the milk bowl again? I wanted to dig deep and become a “thunderous and courageous man of faith,” and made the choice to craft a “faith-forward” life.
We live in a society where sharing our religious beliefs has become politically incorrect. It takes courage to live a faith-forward life, but, inspired by the modern-day sons of thunder, I decided that the most effective way of stepping out in faith was to combine the good word with the doing of good deeds: Martin Luther King was a Christian minister who had a dream of racial equality, and he rallied a nation to end segregation, poverty, and the Vietnam War; Ross Perot joined in the Vietnam fight with his tireless efforts to bring home POWs; I loved how Pope Francis demonstrated faith-forwardness by breaking away from the traditions of living lavishly, which showed a high level of empathy with the poor. For most of us, dedicating one’s life entirely to a single cause is not practical, but one can make a commitment to incorporate faith through words and works into everyday life. Our founding fathers are another great example of individuals who had “day jobs” but who committed themselves to service. The founding fathers led faith-forward lives (nearly half who signed the Declaration of Independence had seminary educations) and referenced the role that God played in the creation of America in their speech and writings:
It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded, not by religionists, but by Christians; not on religions, but on the gospel of Jesus Christ. For this very reason peoples of other faiths have been afforded asylum, prosperity, and freedom of worship here.
—Patrick Henry, The Trumpet Voice of Freedom
Suppose a nation in some distant region should take the Bible for their only law Book, and every member should regulate his conduct by the precepts there exhibited! Every member would be obliged in conscience, to temperance, frugality, and industry; to justice, kindness, and charity towards his fellow men; and piety, love, and reverence toward Almighty God . . . What a Eutopia, what a Paradise this region should be.
—John Adams, One Nation Under God
When I made a commitment to bring my faith with me every day, I discovered a linear equation: If you want more God in your life, you need to include Him in all aspects of your life. My relationship grew deeper and the blessings in life dramatically increased. Open the door to a deeper and more fulfilling relationship with God through your thoughts, words, and good works.
Slowly and steadily, I became more comfortable sharing my connection to Christianity outside of church. I told friends and colleagues I was praying for them in a way that exuded kindness and caring. I expressed my gratitude for the Lord through prayer everywhere, from Starbucks to my girls’ school functions. I even changed my cell phone voicemail message so that when I missed a call, people heard “I’m living the day the Lord has made, I’ll call you back!” These may sound like small gestures, but they’ve had a tremendous impact on my life and my journey to CAVU. Becoming more vocal about my faith—praying with others, talking about Christ, having conversations about the Bible—wasn’t about giving up personal desires and goals. I still wanted to achieve great things, but I wanted to reach my goals while working in concert with Christ. Sharing my Christianity openly kept my God connection flowing and helped me better see my moral horizon. It strengthened my faith in immeasurable ways, which helped me fight temptation in my life and helped inspire others to share their faith. These are some important evolutions of living faith forward.
My opening daily prayer is about ignoring myself and fighting against my wants, desires, materialism, ego, and sinful ways. I fail every day, but I am not deterred from my ultimate goal to live a life for God and not for myself. I ask that God give me passion, energy, and perseverance to carry out His will in my life.
The more time you focus outside yourself, the more fulfilled you will be. Focus on your family, friends, and using your talents for good. Excessive pride will rob your life of happiness and create great unrest in your heart. To take the focus off of yourself, stop comparing yourself to others, be grateful for what you do have, don’t worry about things you have no control over, and push aside everyday frustrations—accept them as part of God’s plan for your life. Rise up each morning and commit your life to being a vessel for God.
Open the Bible for five minutes every day. For me, the simple act of opening the Bible brings instant comfort and peace. Dedicating just five minutes before I go to sleep to reading God’s book is an intentional faith-forward act that I practice. It serves as an invitation to God to enter my life. If you are not religious or practicing, substitute the Bible for some words of wisdom from a philosopher—be open to challenging your perspective and beliefs.
Eddie Murphy began his career on Saturday Night Live at age nineteen. He openly shares that his belief in Jesus and constant prayer has kept him from falling into the traps that snare so many young actors. Prayer can be soothing, a way to tap into your spirituality. It forces a greater connection to God and can keep you focused on your values and your pursuit of positive choices. Patrick Mahomes, the youngest MVP and quarterback to win the Super Bowl, is a spirit warrior. As part of his game preparation, he attends chapel on Saturday night, and on game day he walks the field and says a prayer. Armed with a faith-forward mentality, he asks the fans to pray for him so that he can play without fear and be himself on the field. Win or lose, Patrick’s ultimate goal is glorifying God with his actions.
Perhaps the best thing about prayer is that you can do it anywhere. At home, traveling, or deployed—my prayer routine is the same regardless of my location. I love to combine prayer with my morning workouts. It is important to have a structure to your prayers; this allows you to make it repeatable and part of your routine. I have a rote list of prayer I follow that includes the areas that are most important in my life: my family, friends, health, work, and ambitions. I complete this every day, in addition to my running conversation with God. Prayer invites God into our lives in real ways. As is stated in Matthew 6:25, pray more and worry less—faith kills fear.
Why are we always in a rush to the next thing—the next meeting, the next kids’ event, the grocery store? We scurry about in constant motion, sprinting to the next event on our calendar. Be present in your interactions. Take a deep breath and don’t worry so much about what’s on the horizon. For the last thirteen years I have been the last one to leave virtually every event for Folds of Honor. I want to speak to everyone there, to connect with the people who cared enough to attend. If someone has a question, I want to be there to answer it. I’m not thinking about everything else I need to do after, but rather I’m intentional about being present.
Billy Mills is a fellow Jayhawk, a Marine, and a personal hero of mine. In the 1964 Olympics he won gold in the 10,000 meter, with one of the greatest comebacks in Olympic history. As a Native American, Mills had endured extreme poverty and racism as a child. His entire life had been thrust into the wind, but in the wake of his Olympic victory he credited his dad’s advice to him: “Find your dream. It’s the pursuit of that dream that heals broken souls.” You may have worked hard to be the best fighter pilot, hit the winning shot, or close a big deal at work, but it is God who gave you the talents and desires to become everything in your life. When you receive praise—big or small—recognize that it is the perfect moment to say thank you by giving credit to the Lord and to your loved ones.
It’s a simple one I use: When people ask me how I am doing, I reply, “I am blessed. God is doing awesome things in my life.” You would be amazed at the reactions. Whether I’m in the fighter squadron, playing golf, or walking through the airport, people stop in their tracks when I respond openly with my faith. Why? Because few are used to hearing how much God factors into life. We have stopped sharing our faith. Every time you share your faith, God enters your life.
My mom always said, if you don’t have something good to say, don’t say anything. This is especially true when it comes to talking about other people. Gossip is easy—to pile on when someone else is struggling, or to jump into a negative conversation, kicking people when they are down. I believe that is one of the gravest sins and worst examples of being faith forward.
Do your very best not to judge people—we never know the entire story or circumstance in the moment, and none of us know what the final judgment will look like. Being faith forward requires that you focus on yourself: make yourself better by avoiding parsimonious gossip.
On Christmas Day 1998, General Charles Krulak, then commandant of the Marine Corps, made a stop before his family dinner to visit the Marines on duty at Quantico. When he arrived, he was dismayed that he could not find the officer on duty; rather, only a young enlisted Marine was present. General Krulak asked the young Marine for the name of the officer on duty. “Sir, it’s Brigadier General Mattis,” he said. Yes, that’s right, one of the highest-ranking members of the Marine Corps had volunteered to serve on Christmas to allow the troops to be home with their young families.
Go last and put others in front of yourself. This is such an easy way to be faith forward. The simple act of saying “after you” and letting someone jump ahead of you in line at a coffee shop, or just allowing others to order before you when eating out with friends, sends a quick but powerful message. As does letting a colleague speak first at a meeting, even if you’re anxious to jump in with your idea. Waiting is letting you (and the other person) know that you don’t view yourself as more important. Deferring to someone else’s needs is humbling and will help you see that the world does not revolve around you, your to-do list, and your deadlines.
When making an effort to bring more faith into your life, take a minute to think about how you can use your God-given talents to help others. While any service for others is positive (working at a soup kitchen, volunteering in a shelter, and so on), God has blessed you with unique gifts that are all your own. What skills do you possess, and how can you use them to be a vessel of God and make the world a better place?
President Jimmy Carter, who, at ninety-five years old, still builds houses for Habitat for Humanity, teaches Sunday school, and is a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, puts it this way: “We should live our lives as though Christ were coming this afternoon.” In other words, being a son of thunder is a full-time job; it’s not something you turn on to impress people or pull out to feel good about yourself. My brother in Christ and great friend PGA Tour golfer Rickie Fowler writes scripture verses on the golf gloves that he gives to his young fans. What a powerful way to use his influence and share his faith. Staying in line with your moral horizon takes work and requires reflection, dedication, and determination. But most of all, it takes faith. Faith is about your belief in God, sure, but it’s also about your belief in yourself. Faith is that wonderful expectation of good things to come, of knowing God loves you, and that your sense of purpose and direction will drive you forward.
Our faith walk is a long journey, and if you are like me, you will occasionally end up in the milk bowl, spatially disoriented but morally committed to get reoriented to God. Below is my personal go-to list in order to re-cage my spiritual horizon. As you’ll see, each of the seven deadly sins is listed below, matched next to its spiritual and moral opposite. If the milk bowl shows us anything, it’s that if you’re down, you’re only a 180-degree turn from up: