A Life That Lifted Others: Honoring My Friend Tim Kent

On a cold morning years ago, before the sun had the nerve to rise, I found myself standing shoulder to shoulder with a small group of high-school volunteers at Greensboro Urban Ministry’s shelter. Among them was a young girl named Emily—bright-eyed, kind, eager to volunteer and help. She belonged there. It was her world. What I didn’t know then was that in a few short weeks, she would introduce me to someone who would become one of the most meaningful friendships of my life: her father, Tim Kent.

Tim didn’t slip into that kitchen quietly. He arrived with sleeves rolled, spirit ready, and a heart that recognized the sacred weight of showing up for people who felt forgotten. That was Tim—one foot in the halls of power, the other planted firmly among those who simply needed a warm plate and a human smile.
It didn’t take long before our bond was sealed, forged not by circumstance but by service… and strengthened through the curveballs life would later throw at him.

Three Reflections on a Life That Raised the Bar

1. He Showed Us What True Leadership Looks Like

In roles spanning the NC Association of REALTORS®, the Beer and Wine Wholesalers, and even earlier as a broadcaster, Tim had a remarkable gift: he could bring people together—people who disagreed, people who felt unheard, people who needed direction. He helped build consensus where it didn’t exist. That’s leadership at its rarest form.

Tim lived a life that touched two very different worlds. One day he was navigating complicated legislation, guiding our state through the friction of competing visions. The next, he was in a shelter kitchen flipping eggs for men who carried everything they owned in a backpack.
And he made both spaces feel seen.

2. He Carried the Weight of Others Quietly and Faithfully

Life does not spare any of us its unexpected turns. Tim knew seasons of loss—job uncertainty, divorce, personal questions that shake your footing. But in those valleys, our friendship deepened. His faith strengthened. His compassion widened.

Tim never let hardship harden him. In fact, it softened the edges and shaped the man he ultimately became. He cared for strangers with a dignity that lifted them. He protected and cherished his family with devotion—especially his wife Andra, whose partnership brought him immeasurable joy. He even welcomed his mother-in-law into his own home, caring for her with the same steady kindness he offered to the world.

3. He Lived the A.R.T. of Life: Awareness, Resourcefulness, Timing

Tim embodied the very principles I try to teach today.
Awareness—his eyes were always open to who was hurting, who needed a hand, or who simply needed to be heard.
Resourcefulness—if he saw a need, he found a way to connect people who could meet it.
Timing—he had a rare intuition for the moment to step forward, to speak up, to lead. And when that moment came, he moved—not with bravado, but with conviction.

These weren’t skills he used to elevate himself. They were gifts he used to elevate others.

Closing Reflection

Last week, Tim was posthumously awarded The Order of the Long Leaf Pine, North Carolina’s highest civilian honor. As Hal Mast spoke about Tim’s heart and influence, a swell of pride and sadness washed over the room. It was a moment that felt both fitting and bittersweet.

What struck me most wasn’t the award itself—it was the reminder that legacies aren’t built in grand gestures. They’re built in kitchens before sunrise, in boardrooms where bridges are needed, in quiet conversations between friends navigating storms.

Tim Kent lived a life that mattered. A life that lifted.
A life that—quite simply—made North Carolina better.

Though I miss him deeply, I remain profoundly grateful that our paths crossed. His friendship shaped me. His example sharpened me. And his legacy reminds me, even now, that life is shorter than we imagine… and far more meaningful when spent helping others stand a little taller.

Well done, my friend. You made a difference.

 Steven, Emily, Andra and Michael Kent

 “Awareness: The First Step Toward Making a Difference”

When my granddaughter asked for help with her psychology project, she hesitated—not because she didn’t understand the material, but because she feared the blank page. Together we built an illustration showing two realities: students stepping into college carrying silent, heavy thoughts… and the same students after learning the language of mental health, suddenly able to understand themselves—and help others. 
As we worked, her confidence grew, and by the time we finished, so did her smile. Watching her push through that fear reminded me how often we underestimate the inner battles others face. It also reminded me that the very first brushstroke of The ART of Making a Difference—Awareness—is more powerful than we realize.

Three Points Worth Sharing

Awareness Helps Us See What Isn’t Said
Most people walk into a room carrying far more than we will ever know. When we slow down long enough to look beyond the surface—really look—we begin to notice the weight someone might be holding. Awareness turns assumptions into understanding.

A Little Empathy Can Change Someone’s Day
We often think helping others requires grand gestures. More often, it’s something small: a listening ear, a reassuring word, or simply giving someone space to speak. Empathy doesn’t erase problems, but it softens the ground beneath someone’s feet.

Understanding Leads to Purposeful Action
Once we become aware of another’s challenges, we can act with intention—not guessing, not assuming, but responding in a way that lifts rather than burdens. This is where awareness transforms into impact.

Closing Thought

This holiday season, I’m making a point to slow down and imagine what another person might be navigating, even if they never say a word. 
Awareness is more than a skill—it’s a gift we give to others, and a reminder that kindness often begins long before we ever open our mouths. Sometimes the smallest gesture becomes the very thing someone needed most.

Out in the Field: A Season of Gratitude and Grace

It’s funny how a simple outing can remind you of the path you’ve walked. At the Farmers Market last weekend, a woman stepped toward my table wearing a small pin that said, “Make America Kind Again.” Before we exchanged a word, that message set the tone for the morning. Moments later, another visitor told me she remembered standing in line with her mother at my studio decades ago, waiting patiently for my annual print giveaway. And then, at Fleet-Plummer, longtime friend Steve Hassenfelt walked up, asked about the Honor Card, listened, and quietly made a generous donation—no card, no print, no fanfare. Just kindness.

Those encounters reminded me that after thirty-eight years, this small $5 gesture still meets people exactly where they are. Whether at a bustling market, a beautiful gift shop, or a community garden club, I continue to be humbled by the people who step forward—not for the art, but for the mission behind it. And none of it happens alone. Cheryl Brandberg and Melinda Billings from CHS, along with my talented associate Joy Ross, make these events possible. They stand beside me, carrying the mission with the same heart I’ve poured into it since 1988.

Three Reflections From the Road

1. The Greatest Generosity Often Comes From the Least Expected

Some friends greet me warmly and move along. Others—quiet, unassuming—reach into their pocket to buy a card I’m not even sure they can afford. That spirit moves me every single time.

2. The Stories Run Deeper Than I Realize

When someone tells me they once stood in line with their mother to get a print from my studio, it sends a wave of gratitude through me. This program has touched generations—far beyond anything I imagined.

3. Kindness Still Leads the Way

A woman handing me a kindness pin… a donor who gives anonymously… a neighbor offering $5 because “every bit helps.” These are the reminders that goodness is still alive and well—and it shows up in the smallest gestures.

A Grateful Takeaway

For 38 years, I’ve simply tried to scatter the seeds of an opportunity—one $5 Honor Card at a time. The price has never changed. The heart behind it hasn’t either. I’m merely a voice, and the good Lord’s hand has been on this effort from the beginning. To see it continue—year after year, generation after generation—is something I never take for granted.

The ART of Making a Difference: Painting Hope in Every Direction

The Duke Endowment Center in Charlotte is one of those places that radiates purpose. Sunlight dances across glass walls, portraits of James B. Duke and his family seem to breathe with life, and the gardens outside whisper a legacy of generosity. I recently had the honor of sharing my keynote, The ART of Making a Difference, with more than one hundred leaders from AccessHealth—individuals who pour their hearts into serving low-income families with little or no health coverage. In that moment, surrounded by a living monument to compassion, I was reminded that every one of us has the ability to turn hope into action.

The timing of my visit was especially poignant. With Medicaid expansion on the horizon, the support model that has sustained AccessHealth is shifting. My challenge that day was to encourage those on the front lines not to lose sight of their impact. Like artists standing before a blank canvas, their next masterpiece will be painted not by circumstance but by choice, faith, and perseverance.

Three Points Learned

Awareness Opens the Eyes of the Heart
Artists learn to see light where others see shadows. Likewise, true service begins when we look beyond the surface to understand the needs and emotions that shape others’ lives. Awareness turns compassion into a calling.

Resourcefulness Creates Beauty from Limitation
Every great painting is born out of constraint. It’s not how many colors you have—it’s how you use them. In the same way, AccessHealth teams continue to find innovative ways to heal, even when resources are scarce.

Timing and Tenacity Shape the Masterpiece
The world rarely hands us perfect moments. It’s the steady brush of persistence that brings hope to life. Every challenge is an invitation to adapt, to create, and to press forward.

Photo Credits: Josouna Photography

Takeaway

We’re all artists in one way or another. Our palettes are filled with empathy, courage, and service—and each act of kindness adds a stroke of color to someone’s life. Hope may begin as a faint outline, but through our hands and hearts, it becomes a vivid portrait of what’s possible.

Nestled in Hope: Turning Compassion into Action

Amid the stillness of winter, two bluebirds find shelter in a handcrafted birdhouse, their feathers bright against the snow. That gentle image—warmth amid the cold—is at the heart of this year’s Honor Card, Nestled in Hope. For 38 years, this annual painting has been more than art—it’s been a lifeline, raising awareness and funds for those in need of safe, secure housing.

This year, proceeds once again benefit Community Housing Solutions (CHS), whose mission is to make homes warmer, drier, and safer for low-income families in Guilford County. The Honor Card’s story is deeply personal to me. Years ago, a friend named James Canady, once homeless, found renewed purpose through faith and CHS’s compassion. When health issues and the pandemic left him struggling, CHS stepped in again—proving that sometimes, hope needs a hammer and a heart.

Three Reasons to Give Hope this Season

• A Simple Gift, A Lasting Impact
  Each $5 Honor Card provides critical repairs and resources that keep families safe and secure in their homes.

• Art with a Purpose
  Every card and print extends a legacy of compassion—helping hundreds stay in their homes or find their first.

• Join a Community that Cares
  When you give or send an Honor Card, you remind others that they are seen, valued, and never forgotten.

Learn more by visiting https://www.thehonorcard.com

A Closing Word

As you think of family and friends this holiday season, consider sending a card that does more than decorate a mantel—it builds one. Nestled in Hope is a quiet reminder that everyone deserves a place to call home.