When any great leader steps down from his or her role, the anecdotes start appearing from those who have worked with them. For Steve Jobs you can imagine there’s quite a few, but none sums up his commitment and attention to detail more than this gem of information from Google’s senior vice president of engineering, Vic Gundotra.

Back in 2008 Gundotra was responsible for mobile apps at Google, and therefore regularly got calls from Apple. On Sunday, January 6th 2008, he got an unidentified call on his phone during a religious service. He ignored it until the service was over and then checked his phone again to see a text message from Steve Jobs asking him to call him at home.

Gundotra called and explained why he hadn’t answered with Steve responding by saying you should never answer a call during a service unless the caller ID says “GOD.”

So why was Steve Jobs calling Google’s mobile apps guy on a Sunday morning? Because he had noticed that the yellow in the second “o” of the Google logo on the iPhone was wrong. He wanted it fixed and had already assigned someone at Apple, that someone being Greg Christie, to help fix it. Steve even followed up with an email minutes later.

For Gundotra this episode sums up Steve Jobs as a leader. He was passionate and his attention to detail was second to none. Gundotra finished his anecdote by saying:

CEOs should care about details. Even shades of yellow. On a Sunday.

Even if you aren’t a fan of Apple, it’s hard not to appreciate Steve Jobs for the work he has done to turn the company around and provide millions around the world with beautiful phones, media players, and computers to play with and work on. For those that have worked with him for any length of time, the connection seems to go a little deeper, and they are genuinely impressed and inspired by his determination, outlook, and achievements.

via Google+

If CEO’s should care about shades of yellow on a Sunday how much more should the Church care about every detail on every Sunday? 

I’ve been meaning to read this book for a long time now, finally making good progress through it. As I am writing this I am one chapter away from finishing it. One of the best parts of the book that stood out to me was from chapter 6. Below you will see the story.

The Divine Commodity – Chapter 6: The Land of Desire (pg 113-114) 
On a previous visit I had been walking in New Delhi with my father. We were hoping to catch a break in the traffic when a boy approached us. He was probably six or seven years old, skinny as a rail, and naked but for tattered blue shorts. His legs were stiff and contorted, like a wire hanger twisted upon itself. He waddled on his hands and kneecaps, which were covered with huge calluses from the broken pavement. Like many other times in India, I wanted to close my eyes and pretend people in such misery didn’t exist. But this persistent boy wouldn’t let me.

  

We kept walking down the street looking for a gap in the traffic, ignoring the bow and his shouts. “One rupee, please! One rupee!” The little guy was amazingly fast on his kneecaps, managing to stay ahead of us and i our field of vision. Finally, realizing he wasn’t going to give up, my father stopped and gave the boy the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

   “What do you want?” he asked.
“One rupee, sir,” the boy said while motioning his hand to his mouth and bowing his head in deference. My father laughed.
“How about I give you five rupees?” he said. The boy’s submissive countenance suddenly became defiant. He retraced his hand and sneered at us. He thought my father was joking, having a laugh at his expense. After all, no one would willingly give five rupees. The boy started shuffling away, mumbling curses under his breath.

   My father reached into his pocket. Hearing the coins jingle, the boys stopped and looked back over his shoulder. My father was holding out a five-rupee coin. He approached the stunned boy and placed the coin into his hand. The boy didn’t move or say a word. He just stared at the coin in his hand. We passed him and proceeded to cross the street.

   A moment later the shouting resumed, except this time the boy was yelling, “Thank you! Thank you, sir! Bless you!” He raced after us once again – not for more money but to touch my father’s feet. He blocked our way and alternated raising his hands with shouts of acclamation and bowing at my father’s shoes. He was literally worshiping us and attracting the attention of everyone on the street.

   This, I imagine, is how our God sees us – as miserable creatures in desperate need of his help. But rather than asking for what we truly need, rather than desiring what he is able and willing to give, we settle for the lesser things. And when God graciously says “no” to our misled desires and instead offers us more, we reject him. We turn away, cursing him under our breath. We simply cannot imagine a God who would give five rupees when all we desire is one.