Big Jim and the Power of Change
Growing up, my father loved telling stories, and one of his favorites was about a certain member of the Sheppard clan, known to everyone as Big Jim. Why “Big”? Well, it wasn’t just because Jim was a popular name among the Sheppards, but because Jim was, well, big in every sense—especially in presence.
The story has probably picked up some polish over the years, but here’s how I recall my father telling it.
My grandfather, my dad’s father, passed away when Dad was only three, leaving my grandmother with six children to raise alone on their homestead in southern Saskatchewan, Canada. They’d built a sturdy six-room house, the farm was thriving, and then, out of nowhere, life threw a curveball. My grandfather got sick with cancer and passed away, and not long after, the house burned down. It was the start of the Dirty Thirties—a tough time to rebuild.
News of these troubles somehow reached a cousin, Big Jim, and he was asked to come help run the farm. Big Jim wasn’t just known for his size; he was also famous for his temper and colorful language. This was when a well-timed swear could knock the socks off everyone in earshot, and Big Jim had a way with words that could leave the air tingling. His reputation bordered on the scandalous within the tight knit community of homesteaders.
One night, Big Jim went into town, supposedly to unwind with a few drinks. But something surprising happened—he ended up at a tent meeting led by two lady preachers. Something about that night must’ve struck him deeply because when he returned home, he was... different.
But he didn’t say anything. No grand speeches or explanations. Instead, he got up the following day and went straight to work on a particularly messy job: cleaning the pipes from the wood stove. These pipes snaked around the ceiling to maximize the heat before it escaped, and they’d get clogged with soot over time, needing a good clean every so often.
As Big Jim was working, carefully undoing the wires holding the pipes in place, everything suddenly collapsed. Soot exploded in every direction, settling in a thick, dark cloud over him. My grandmother and the kids froze, waiting for the storm of expletives they knew was coming. But instead of cursing, Big Jim stood there, covered in soot, silent momentarily. Then, out of nowhere, he started whistling an old hymn.
My father told this story as a powerful example of change, or as he put it, metanoia—a Greek word that means a transformative shift in mind and heart. Management consultants like to call it “intentional change,” but my dad just called it “Big Jim’s moment.” Apparently he never `swore` again.
The story has stuck with me. I can still picture it in my mind—the pipes crashing down, the soot clouding the room, and Big Jim standing there, whistling a hymn and conveying a sense of peace instead of letting out a torrent of curses. That tiny house stood for generations, long enough for me to see it myself, though it’s gone now. But the story of Big Jim’s transformation is imprinted on me, a reminder that it’s never too late to change your path, no matter how “set in your ways” you might think you are. We can all have our `Big Moments`.
So, if you’ve ever wondered whether it’s too late to make a change, remember Big Jim. Sometimes, all it takes is a moment of realization, a quiet decision, and a willingness to stand in a mess without letting it change who you’ve decided to become. And when change comes, you don`t have to announce that you are different. Your actions will be all the proof others need to know that something is different about you.