I once read that “your reputation” is the way people see and regard you, but your character is who you really are. If you develop a strong character, your reputation will take care of itself.

Have you ever given much thought to your reputation from the standpoint of your sphere of influence and all the people who know you? Everyone who knows you has an opinion of you. It strikes me that there may be some people who don’t think very highly of you, and you are not even aware of it. Remember, focus on developing character and your reputation will take care of itself.

Author Dennis Rainey tells a great story about the importance of having a good name. He says:

Growing up in a small, rural community nestled in the Ozark Mountains of southern Missouri meant there were few secrets. As a teenager, I learned that mistakes made on Saturday night were Monday morning’s headline news at the local barber shop. It was generally true both for children and adults: An individual’s character and reputation were like laundry hanging outdoors on the clothesline – there for all to see.

By the time I was a senior in high school, I had become acutely aware of the negative side of our little community’s efficient communication network. However, I didn’t realize it had its positive side until I began selling magazine subscriptions to raise money for our senior project.

As the contest began, I set my eyes on a small tape recorder and a teddy bear that would be my reward for selling a modest number of subscriptions. Without delay I cashed in several sales to my numerous aunts and uncles.

However, it became increasingly difficult as I solicited subscriptions from my neighbors. I was still a good distance from my goal when I found myself going door to door in town. That strategy didn’t break any sales records, so I headed out into the country. There I met considerable resistance while burning a tank of gas. Sales had ceased.

As I was driving home about to give up and settle for a cheap, pint-sized, stuffed chipmunk, I impulsively turned off the gravel road into a driveway that led to a small, white farmhouse. As I got out of the car and walked up the steps, I thought to myself, They probably can’t afford to buy anyway. My suspicions were inwardly confirmed when I was greeted by an elderly man in well-worn overalls standing behind the screen door.

I introduced myself and was hurriedly rattling off my canned sales pitch when the old man interrupted me: “Son, what did you say your name was?”

“Dennis Rainey, sir,” I tried to say politely, wondering what that had to do with my sales presentation.

“Are you ‘Hook’ Rainey’s son?” he asked with a slight grin.

The old man’s etched face immediately brightened with my answer, “Why, yes sir. He’s my dad.”

“Well come on in!” He beamed as he unhooked the screen door and swung it open. He went on and on about my father, telling stories of how he had bought home heating fuel from Dad for years, how Dad had helped him and others when they couldn’t pay their bills.

Then he bought two magazine subscriptions.

Driving away, I decided to see if this was a fluke or if others shared the same opinion about my dad. I stopped at the next little house on the edge of that country road and introduced myself. “Hello, I’m ‘Hook’ Rainey’s son; my name is Dennis Rainey.”

Eureka! The response was identical. Sales soared as I drove from house to house down every gravel road I could find. Not only did I win the tape recorder, but I also won thirteen huge stuffed animals – teddy bears, tigers, and dogs. I cleaned them out by winning first place and setting a record for sales.

For years I thought I had won that magazine contest. But it wasn’t until Dad’s death that I realized what had happened: It was his character that had made the difference. I had witnessed a living Proverb:

A good name is to be more desired than great riches (Proverbs 22:1, NASB)

My dad’s good name was earned during sixty-six years lived within two miles of where he was born. His character was shaped as a boy when his father deserted him, his mother, and six other brothers and sisters. As a lad, Dad learned what it meant to be responsible as the family struggled to scratch out enough to feed eight in a two-room drafty log cabin.

During his late teenage years, he picked up his nickname “Hook.” Evidently, in his prime he was a pretty fair baseball pitcher – he even pitched a game against Dizzy Dean. As a lefty, he was known for having the most crooked curve ball around – a wicked “hook” that mystified batters.

But in contrast to his curve ball, Dad’s life was as straight and powerful as a Nolan Ryan fastball. He was widely known and known well in the business community. As a single man, he started his own business pumping gas and, over a forty-four-year period, built a solid company. At his funeral, attended by about a third of the town, one man commented, “I never heard a negative word about ‘Hook’ Rainey.”

At the heart of Dad’s good name was his integrity. His word was good. His promises were sealed with a firm handshake. No contracts were needed to make certain he didn’t become slippery in business.

His commitment to my mom in 1932 was sure until his death in 1976.

He made good on his promises to me to go fishing during busy times of the year. I remember thinking as a young boy that if I could only get him to say yes to something, then it was a done deal. His integrity permeated all that he did; his private life was no different from his public life.

Dad was a man of few words. He had a soft-spoken faith in God, but underneath was a bedrock of practical righteousness. He wasn’t perfect, but he was never pompously pious.

Upon reflections, I sometimes feel that my dad’s life was a lesson in character and integrity – just for me. As I go about trusting my heavenly Father, His Word, and His plan for my life, I’ve learned that the seeds of trust were planted there by an earthly father who was trustworthy. I agree with Alexander Pope when he said, “An honest man is the noblest work of God.” It is from observing this noble work of God that I draw strength daily to live my life and lead my family.

As I ponder the greatest lesson my dad taught me, I’m grateful to God for a father who embodied the words of Charles Haddon Spurgeon who said, “A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you and were helped by you, remember you when forget-me-nots are withered. Carve your name on hearts, and not on marble.”

The older I become, the more I am grateful to God for a dad who engraved integrity upon his son’s heart. I pray that I will do the same.

Richard E Simmons III is the founder and Executive Director of The Center for Executive Leadership and a best-selling author.