Trust has an interesting relationship with time. It takes an eternity to earn it but only a second to lose it. When you have it, there is nothing better; when you don’t, nothing is worse. I’ve come to realize there is nothing more valuable than trust. Plain and simple, I want trustworthy people on my team. Trust overcomes a myriad of weaknesses.

Reflecting on Father’s Day this week, I realized I learned the most about this subject from my father. In many ways, my dad is a model team member. He has what researchers call the key drivers of trust: the perception of integrity, competence, consistency, and loyalty.

My father and I have not always seen eye to eye. Ok, that’s a huge understatement. To be completely transparent, we don’t see eye to eye on many things. But I think we both have decided to agree to disagree. We can still have a relationship even though we don’t hold the same opinions. It's better this way, anyway. Who wants to be around people who all think the same way? You certainly don’t become a better person by surrounding yourself with opinions you already hold. You need people around you who will challenge your beliefs. Even though my dad and I don’t have the “challenging each other” type of relationship, I like to believe we still inspire each other to be better. I don’t tell him enough, but he inspires me daily.

The youngest of seven, my dad was raised in a small Indiana town. His family was Catholic and believed in big families back then. His mom, my grandmother, was a small, spunky sort of woman. We didn’t live close to them, so I didn’t have the pleasure of spending much time with her. I didn’t know my grandfather well either. I barely met him before he suddenly passed away when I was five years old. From the stories I’ve heard, he was a hard-working Renaissance type of guy with an entrepreneurial spirit. He owned a men’s clothing store on the square. Yes, Princeton, Indiana, has one of those downtowns with a courthouse square. He was also an artist, a carpenter, and a movie buff. I can still recall a few memories about him. I remember him coming to our house and teaching me to draw. We started by copying the comics from the newspaper. I also remember the theater he created in his basement. Long before home theaters were a thing, he set up a screen, a movie projector, and some old chairs he got from a movie theater. I don’t remember what movies we watched down there, but I’m pretty sure I saw the first Star Wars and possibly the first Superman movies with him. I suspect I inherited a lot of my interests from him. More importantly, I indirectly learned about his hard work and dedication by watching my father.

When I was seven, my dad decided to leave his job and answer a higher calling. He loaded me and my three siblings up and moved to Birmingham, Alabama, where he attended a Bible college. Going to college is tough enough. Doing it while also providing for a family is on another level altogether. Not many people could pull this off. But my dad did. And on top of this, his hard work would never pay well in this new career. He signed up to serve others, often with little recognition. That takes a special kind of selfless dedication, especially when you serve humans who are not selfless and will inevitably be critical. Growing up, I witnessed so many difficult days. On top of wrangling a rebellious teenager, he somehow managed to lead congregations with love, even the most pharisaical of them.

My dad is not one of those lead-from-the-top types of ministers. He is an in-the-trenches kind of leader. I used to think this was a weakness. Leaders should establish themselves on a higher level than the people under them. As I’ve grown older, I realize that was my ego’s version of leadership. I’m not saying my dad doesn’t have an ego. He does. Where else did I get it? However, I’ve realized that he doesn’t lead with his ego. Instead, he leads with his heart and his hands. He isn’t scared to roll up his sleeves and do the work most people won’t do. His motivation comes from a pursuit of what he believes is the truth. I’m not here to debate whether his beliefs are right or wrong. Frankly, that doesn’t matter. What matters is the outcome. In all the years I’ve watched him lead, he has never swerved from his beliefs. To my knowledge, my dad has never compromised. Even though I have been frustrated by his refusal to change or adopt different views, I deeply respect his loyalty to his beliefs.

Ultimately, my dad is the type of person I want on my team. You just can’t beat the ROI on integrity, competence, consistency, and loyalty.