The Stall

In the world of barbequing, I'm not exactly what you would call a Pit-Master.  I'm probably more like a pitfall than anything.  I have smoked meat before, but I'm admittedly much better at smoking cigarettes.  Stop judging.  All that being said, I've learned a little about the backyard pastime from my father-in-law and made several attempts to cook brisket, ribs, etc., for people I know will tell me it's good regardless.  That's the key.  Don't cook for people that are going to take a bite or two and compare your work to another 50 people.  It's a blow to the ego, especially if you think you aren't that bad at what your are doing.  Cook for people that are going to eat all of it, feel stuffed, and shower you with praise.  Win...win...and WIN!  Despite my typical "winging it" approach, I do know a couple things, concepts, methods about barbequing or smoking marijuana...I mean meat.  Sorry about that.

First there is the 3-2-1 method of smoking ribs.  This is not the magical method of counting very slowly, using halves and quarters, before you slap the shit out of your kids.  It's a proven method that's never worked for me.  Basically, after you have washed your ribs, removed the membrane and rubbed them all over with your secret special seasoning (alliteration, my friends...and I get mine from Walmart), you smoke them for them for 3 hours, wrap them for two hours, then unwrap them again for an hour.  The oven works well too.  I think the guy who coined that method is a world renowned Pit-Master.  And the guy who invented the oven is doing just fine as well.

Then there's brisket.  A big hunk of meat that looks more intimidating than my wife and daughter when they return from Target.  Smoking brisket is fairly easy if you know what you are doing and don't consume too much alcohol in the process.  So what I'm telling myself and all of you is that you have to be smart and can't drink too much.  Umm...I knew there was a reason I shouldn't have tried.  Anyways, brisket.  It can take forever, and a big reason for this is the stall.  Without going into all the science of the meat and cooking process, the stall is basically the time when 1 beer turns into a 6 pack and you have damn near forgot what you were doing.  That still happens, but the stall is when the moisture from the meat evaporates onto the meat and as a result interferes with the internal temperature rising.  I realize most of you could care less about all of this, but there is a point to all of it if you would just stay patient.  Depending on who you talk to, the goal temperature is somewhere around 205 degrees.  The stall can usually set in around the 160 degree mark.  And during this time I could go play 18 holes of golf.  But I don't.  I typically just stare at the smoker and try to will it to a higher temperature.

And that's all I know about barbequing.  3-2-1...stall.  Sounds like the most enjoyable past time ever.

Knowing about the stall can come in handy though, especially when your wife is working on losing weight.  Over the last couple of months Alicia and I have modified our diets and attempted do some exercising, all in an effort to shed some pounds.  My weight loss graph looks like someone doing a swan dive.  Alicia's weight loss graph looks more like an airplane slowly descending to the runway.  Neither is better or worse, as each equate to loss.  However, the other day Alicia was upset that she hadn't loss much weight recently, despite her continued best efforts.  I said, "Honey, you are like a beef brisket!  You are in the stall!"  Of course she loved the comparison and thanked me for my vote of encouragement.  

There you go, fellas.  Glad I could help.

 ******     

 

Please be advised that what follows is only my own thoughts.  Some may come from the devil, I'm sure of that.  I pray he doesn't make his way in to this.  Hopefully a majority are from God.  I'm human and living in a situation that many of you are unfamiliar with and I pray you never have to experience.

 

Believe it or not, I've been a social worker for 13 years.  I've walked and talked with numerous individuals with illnesses and backgrounds you wouldn't believe.  I've fought and battled and listened and cried with people that have more courage and resolve than I do.  I can't even begin to understand the trauma many have endured or the hopelessness they feel fighting a daily battle with medication, paranoia, delusions, depression, anxiety, estranged family, no friends, isolation, and so on.  But I've enjoyed it.  I've spent years developing relationships and nothing makes me feel better each day when I see some of these folks and they say "Hi, Josh" or just want to talk for a few minutes.  It's nice to know people care about you and perhaps what you've done for them.  And the fact of the matter is that I probably haven't done much other than offer my time and listen.  For whatever reason there are people in this world with mental illness and they need our help, our support.  That's what I do.

 

It's really funny how God works sometimes, despite having no idea what His plan is.  One can sit for minutes or hours or however long trying figure it all out, but it simply cannot be done.  Not that it's ever a waste of time, but if you are thinking that by the end of your contemplation you will have connected all the dots, you will only be further saddened or frustrated...or maybe even joyous!  It's quite possible to be all three...and maybe even more.  There's yesterday, today, tomorrow, and eternity.  I do have hope, but I can understand if you are lost.  I feel that way too sometimes.  

 

Kane is ill.  Maybe not severely and persistently mentally ill like those I try to help on a daily basis, but he is ill...extremely ill.  While my perspective of progress has changed over the years, and Kane has definitely made progress, it's very difficult to not look at him day in and day out and think he isn't in a stall.  Here comes the devil.  He wants me to give up, to throw in the towel, to call it quits.  He wants me to say "every single God damn day is filled with seizures and heartache and all kinds of shit that neither he or his family deserve."  And quite honestly, I believe and say that crap sometimes...a lot of times.  Because it's easier than watching and praying for what?  Kane to die anyways?

 

******

Oh ye' of little faith, Josh.  This is not Kane's problem.  I believe he will be just fine.  I truly believe in his innocent heart and soul that he will be joining our Father in the Kingdom of Heaven.  Whether that's tonight, a year from now or whenever, I do believe. 

 

This is my problem.  This is life in the unforeseen trenches of planet earth.  Time to quit stalling. 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6fA35Ved-Y

Thanks for listening, friends    

 

 

 

 

   



Hope

Rejoice in our suffering, suffering produces perseverance, perseverance - character, and character hope. Romans 5:3

 

 

"As I walk this great unknown, questions come and questions go -"

 

It wasn't until I got married, and probably even closer to when Noa was born, that I really started thinking about the great unknown, that I really started thinking about something other me.  Taking care of yourself was fairly easy, but being responsible for others was a challenge on all fronts.  All of sudden the mind can come up with an outrageous amount of questions that it never even considered when it was just you.  "What if something happens to me...What if something happens to her...How would I ever be able to do this on my own...Will we have enough money...and those are just general questions.  With or without others in your life, I don't think this is uncommon and I don't think it ever stops.  Perhaps the intensity of questioning decreases a bit as your fear of the unknown relents, but when you are walking and witnessing the great unknown, you think and you question a lot nonetheless.  At least I think you should be.   

" - was there purpose for the pain? Did I cry these tears in vain?"

We have all suffered at some point in our lives.  It's inevitable.  Young kids don't make the teams they try out for.  Teenagers don't get the new car or invited to prom.  Young adults have to start doing their own laundry or paying their own bills.  Older adults have to do everyone's laundry.  And then there are tragic accidents, intentional murder, cancer, violence, neglect, abuse, poverty, and so on.  But why?  What's the purpose?   

It's difficult to think that losing a loved one in a tragic accident has purpose.  Unfair is the only word that comes to mind.  Or being diagnosed with cancer.  Or being the victim of violence.  Or living in a world of poverty.   Yeah...seems a tad bit unfair to me.  All are painful for anyone that is directly related to the situation, but each of them validate the great unknown; that all of us at any moment in time could be on the end of tragedy and suffering.  Fair or not, it's life.  

And we cry...and cry...and cry.

"I don't want to live in fear.  I want to know that you are near."

  
Letting go is one of the hardest parts of being human and living on planet earth.  When my kids leave for school each day, there is usually a moment or two of fearful thinking.  I wonder if Noa will make it to the bus stop okay and have a good day in general.  I wonder if I will get a call about Kane.  I think about them both just coming home.  On my way to work, there may be a day when I wonder if I will return home to my family.  You really never know, do you?  When Alicia leaves town by herself or with Noa or Kane, I pray that everyone returns safely, but I also have my moments of doubt.  I don't want to think this way, but I do because I'm just like you.  I live everyday in the unknown. 

So if fear is a real emotion and we live in the unknown, what is the answer?  Either you know you live in an unknown world and don't fear anything, which I would find hard to be true (especially if you are married, have kids, are employed, etc.), or you live in the unknown and have fear.  I guess there is the individual who believes he or she has it all planned out and may or may not be fearful, which sounds like someone I would be concerned about. You get the point, but the answer?

"And trust that Your grace can be seen in both triumph and tragedy."

As a sinner who believes in Jesus Christ, I usually find it much easier to give thanks for what I have and when times are good then when I've been dealt a situation or experience that involves suffering and tragedy.  I'm grateful for my healthy daughter; my loving, caring, beautiful wife; my job; my health and my things; but the most difficult thing to do sometimes is share my appreciation for the most challenging and distressing experience I have faced in my life.  However, God calls me to rejoice in these times because not only are they a part of life, they are building my character.  I am who I am because of my experience.  It's the purpose for the suffering, and through the suffering I am able to give thanks when I realize I'm not walking alone in the unknown.

"But sometimes my faith feels thin, like the night will never end"

It's one thing to give thanks and rejoice in a season of suffering, but this doesn't make the suffering just up and leave.  I have cried out to God, giving Him thanks for Kane, for this experience, and for the blood of Christ.  In doing so, I've kindly and at times angrily asked Him to end Kane's suffering, our suffering, and wondered and doubted whether or not there is purpose for the pain.  The unknown can break you down to the point that you have nothing but worry and fear and doubt and tears.  All of which can be turned over to the One whose purpose, not ours, is where we should continually be searching.

"Will you catch every tear or will you just leave me here?"

Watching your children suffer can be unbearable.  You can try to catch all their tears and promise them you will be always be there for them, but it's an impossible task.  When they need you the most you will be unreachable.  When they are in your arms and suffering you will feel helpless.  They, too, are growing up in an unknown world.  They are learning that their superheroes aren't able to solve all their problems.

While I have lived a life dependent on earthly superheroes, as well as one that is faithful in the promise of a savior, I believe in the latter.  Even superheroes live in the unknown and are fearful of a stronger power.   

I have persevered and will continue to do so.  My character is being molded through adversity.  And in my suffering I have learned that my tears are often times a reminder that God is near.  I have Hope.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjetZn5lrBc

   


 



Head Coach

I posted a blog entry on May 11, 2015 entitled "Hearts and Brains and Love, Oh My!"  In it I described a trip Alicia and I took to Peoria to see a couple of Kane's specialists.  It was a very challenging time for all of us, as Kane was not doing particularly well and we were very concerned about his heart and brain damage at that point (we still are).  As I wrote about the interactions with the specialists that day, I recall being very sad about Kane's prognosis as well as the overall mood of our family.  We had dealt with a very difficult 12-18 months since Kane was hospitalized and the news was just another layer of sadness and frustration.  We didn't really know what to expect, but I can say that optimism wasn't easy to find.

Kane had not entered school yet. He was still less than three years old and receiving services in the home.  In many ways he was much like he is today, but he hadn't been pushed to a certain degree.  Up until that time, especially coming off a year long recovery from some unthinkable shit, I would speculate that many involved in his care didn't want to "poke the bear".  That happens to be a phrase we use with Kane quite often.  But seriously, though, Kane could do things that scared the hell out of you. Not because he necessarily wanted to but because he was in pain or pissed off or just didn't want you messing with him.  He wasn't ready to be pushed, or poked, so we didn't push him. 

I've said it before, but I was not all that excited about Kane going to school.  Frankly, I didn't see the point.  When you have a kid that wasn't very capable of doing much, and I say that in a very loving way, what could possibly be gained aside from getting sick or hurt or something even more traumatic.  I felt that keeping him at home in a make believe bubble was the best way to approach his life, and all the while I would just try accept the reality of sadness and despair that comes with having a child who is extremely ill.  However, that wasn't an option.  Not because I was super optimistic and hopeful, but because he was going to lose all the services he was getting and neither his mother or I were in a position to quit working and take care of him on a daily basis.  So school it had to be...

******

On Saturday I completed my first season as head coach of Noa's UPWARD basketball team.  We went 4-4, nobody was to badly injured and Noa even made a couple baskets, which is pretty good for her on a 10 foot hoop.  Even though Alicia signed me up for coaching without my consent, I'm happy she did and very blessed to have had the opportunity to lead a great group of girls.  I don't expect any phone calls for future coaching positions at any higher ranks, but I'll gladly do it again next year. 

 

UPWARD basketball is learning about Jesus Christ through the sport.  It's about building character through knowing your savior and doing it with others.  Basketball is an avenue that leads you to the destination.  I never played in a UPWARDs program.  I'm not even sure if there was one when I was Noa's age.  Even if there was one, my family didn't attend church and I definitely didn't know Jesus Christ.  However, I did play on several teams as a young kid and was coached by some amazing people.  Individuals like Tom Hayes, Ed Heineman, Steve Marks, and Don Witherow come to mind.  As I got older and played even more organized sports, the likes of John McQuary, Lester Hampton, Selby Hubbard, and even Cal Hubbard (though I never played for him, just tormented him in P.E) were people that led with character and taught me some wonderful things that I carry with me today.

 

I remember the time during my sophomore year of high school when I was playing basketball at U-HIGH. Now some of you will read this and my rebellion will come as a shock to you, but there was a game when I was determined to wear my socks up to my knees.  Weird, I know.  I was a starter at the time and I, of course, wanted to play every minute that I could.  That being said, I also wanted to do whatever the hell I wanted with no repercussions for my actions.  I don't know how it is now, but that's not what you did when you played basketball at U-HIGH in 1997.  I remember running out of that locker room with my socks pulled up past my knees, probably as far as my inner thigh, looking like moron and making it through a few lay up lines before I was caught.  Did I think I could get away with it?  Not really.  Was it a mistake?  Not at all.  Were there consequences?  Absolutely.  I was sent back to the locker room to change my socks and by the time I came out the game had started.  Didn't start the game.  Humiliation.  All for what?  I want to believe I learned a lesson from my head coach at the point in my life, but it was many more years before I really learned the true lesson.  

 

Head coaching, and coaching in general, carries a lot of responsibility.  You don't just get to show up, throw the ball in the air and sit back for a couple hours.  You really need to teach and guide and listen and...sometimes be a loving jerk.  I'm hopeful that I accomplished all of them this year.

 

******     

Back to Kane...

 

He has been attending school for over a year now and his progress is quite remarkable, all things considered.  Everything that Kane struggles with on daily basis remains pretty much the same.  He has seizures daily.  His physical mobility is minimal.  His vision and hearing are questionable.  His response to human stimuli depends on the day, the minute, the person, his mood, the air temperature, and perhaps even the way the sun is shining into his room.  It really is a crap shoot, friends.  Nonetheless, he's made a tremendous amount of progress with breathing more on his own, tolerating more food at a time, standing in his stander without pitching a fit, and just growing in general. 

 

And all of this is being done with a lot of coaches.  Kane has coaches that come to his house daily.  They go with him to school daily.  They are present at school daily.  They are in the hospitals when he visits there regularly.  They are you and us who are cheerleading him from the sidelines or when he is in the middle of the fourth quarter looking for the finish line after a long battle with something that is going to hopefully make him stronger.  While we are Kane's parents, his school teachers, therapists and in-home nurses have been the catalysts in his progress.  Without this coaching he would not be where he is at today.

 

But aren't we all really just assistant coaches?  Or maybe assistant fathers and mothers and grandparents and supervisors and teachers and nurses and on and on.  I'd like to think that I was the head coach of Noa's team this year, but I'm just an assistant.  Someone else is running the show.  When I was younger and rebellious, there were plenty of assistants guiding me...and I wish I would have known then what I know now...that the head coach had put people in my life to assist me with what I needed. 

 

I'm so grateful to be an assistant and have assistants in this life.  I could never be a Head Coach.  



 



 Kane may disagree, though!

https://youtu.be/u0cr82a4Xc8

 

 



          

 

The Question

Dear Fathers (and probably some mothers),

I would like to thank all you who dedicate so much time decorating your abodes with all different types of Christmas lights after the Thanksgiving holiday.  I say this for two reasons: First, it truly is a joy to frolic up and down the avenues, streets, and drives while in my car and look at the glorious colors of lighted bulbs dangling from your garages, rooftops and shrubs.  Oh my goodness, it's so amazing!  Secondly, when you do it, I can justify not doing it.  Who really needs another lighted house, not to mention one at the end of a drive that...well...ends?  Unless I go Clark Griswold, I don't see there being a tremendous amount of traffic coming down Vanderbilt Drive.  So who really cares if I have a few lights or just the ones I installed when I built the house?!  Therefore, your hard work and dedication to a task I'm sure many of you don't really look forward to affords me the opportunity to frolic when I want and remind my wife there are plenty of other houses out there to look at.

From the bottom of my heart,

Josh

******

 

Sometime between this present moment and when school started this year, I was presented with one of the most daunting questions a parent can ever face.  It's a question that catches you off guard and unless you have prepared a response you don't really know what to say.  When the question comes you are flooded with so many other questions that all you really want to do is push a button and eject yourself 10 minutes into the future.  You ask yourself the following..."Okay, how old are you again?"..."If I tell the truth, are you going to be alright with it or am I going to have to send you to your room to cry in isolation?"..."Can I trust you to not tell ANYONE?"..."Does she already know the answer to the question and wants me to look like the goofball?" 

 

Dad, is Santa Clause real?

 

Oh...My...God...Well...umm...Do you remember that time we went to his hometown of Santa Clause, Indiana?

 

Dad...just answer the question.

 

Well...umm....well...I have seen about 6,000 of them in my life time so I guess...so.

 

Dad?!!

 

No, honey, Santa Clause is not real.  There!  Are you happy?!! Because I'm not!!

 

Fortunately, for me, I was able to have an honest conversation with my daughter about the jolly old elf and it not end in a crisis.  The time had come where my smart, inquisitive daughter had figured it out and just wanted confirmation.  I could have lied or blew it off, but I was put on the spot and had to disclose some very confidential information.  Goodness, I really hope your three year olds aren't reading this.  Anyways, I'm happy to say that Noa now understands that her mother ate all the cookies and I lapped up whatever that crap is we throw out for the reindeer each year.  I didn't though...or maybe I did. 

 

******

Every last Friday of each month for the last two years, David has been coming to where I work for pest control.  He typically calls me the week before to confirm our time and make sure that I'll be there.  David is a really cool guy.  I don't know much about him, but I would bet money that he is well liked in his work world and among his friends as well.  He just gives off that vibe.  When David arrives, he is usually chewing a piece of gum and always smiles when I answer the door.  His greeting is cordial and I truly feel he is interested in his name and his company.  For the next 20 minutes, while he fires away at the baseboards of every room in the house, David and I talk as if we are friends who haven't seen each other for a month.  It's not that intimate, but it's definitely a respectful conversation that I thoroughly enjoy.  All I can do is try to make it the same for him, but you would have to ask him what he thinks about me.  Regardless, he shares with me and I with him as we walk through the three story house.

 

I don't meet up with David on my days off, we've never shared a beer together, and I don't know his family.  However, he's been in a very successful band, enjoys a vegan diet, and every year dresses up for Halloween and gives candy out to kids who say trick or treat.  And when he calls me each month it's a reminder of how fast time goes. 

 

For the last 6 months or so he has been talking to me about his plan for retiring in March, 2017.  His plan was to help a new guy learn the ropes and then sail off into spraying only his baseboards.  I'm sure he has many, many other plans for life after work as well.  Maybe get the band back together.  Maybe eat a Rib-eye for shits and giggles.  Maybe just do not much of anything. 

 

In November, the last Friday of the month was the day after Thanksgiving.  I hadn't heard anything from David.  I figured the holiday threw some things off and I would hear from him the following week.  Nothing.  Then in my team meeting on Friday... the first one in December...I received a call from a number I didn't know.  When I had the chance, I called it back.  It was a fellow by the name of Drew.  He was calling to coordinate the pest control service.  But what about David?!

 

David has pancreatic cancer.  It's not good.  But what about his retirement?  What about his family?  What about those Friday's at the end of the month?

 

******

 

I can joke about the Christmas lights and Santa Clause, because...well...I can.  Take that!  Christmas lights will die out when you stop putting them up and Santa Clause sort of dies around the age of nine.  Behind each Santa Clause suit, though, is a human being...just like David...and death for humans is real.  Some of us are experiencing this now.   Some of us have been battling through it for years.  We have all likely experienced it in some way or another, and it can't help but make you think about a bit of everything...Christmas lights, Santa Clause, our friends, our kids, our things, people we see monthly, people we haven't seen in years, and on and on.

 

Regardless of your situation, this season (and each one after that) is about one light, one gift giver, one true friend, one child.  I encourage you to remember that.

 

****** 

 

Dear God,

 

How is that you can really manage everyone and everything?  I don't know, but I believe that you can.  I trust at this very moment you are protecting those dangling lights off their rooftops, you are giving the words to those who are explaining Santa Clause, and you are sitting at David's side.  Thank you for allowing me to spend this time writing this evening and helping me along the way.

 

In Christ,

 

Josh  

 

Ninety Minutes

It's 7:00am on any day during the school week.  Noa is preparing herself to leave for the bus and I'm checking in with the nurse on how the night went with Kane.  I'm on my second cup of coffee and soon headed to the shower, if I haven't taken one already.  Alicia has already kissed everyone goodbye and headed to work. 

The next ninety minutes or so will likely be the only time that I see Kane awake until the next day.  And that's if he is awake. I usually shower him with a bunch of hugs and kisses, hold his hands for bit, and then make several attempts to get a smiling response from him.  Some days I'm successful and it makes everything okay.  Other days I don't get much of anything and I find myself overcome with sorrow.  Still, I move on with getting him ready for school and kissing him the entire time.  As I change his diaper, give him meds and suction his mouth and lungs, I talk to him about how much he has grown, how much God loves him, and how much I love him.  The ninety minutes moves quickly and then the nurse arrives to help put the finishing touches on getting him ready for school.  If I don't leave for work early, I watch him get on the bus and follow him out of the neighborhood.  His distant stare only to be seen in 24 more hours.

And I'm the fortunate one.  Alicia leaves for work around 6:30am.  She gets about ninety seconds of eyeball time with Kane.  And by golly I can tell you that the two of them have a pretty good connection.  Kane knows who his mother is!  I know he doesn't always respond with a smile, but if he does smile it's likely going to be when his mother is talking to him.  I don't talk much with Alicia about her drives to work or any of this quite frankly, because I think we have both accepted it as our lives.  However, if she is anything like me, she cries as travels.  She gets angry.  She negotiates with God.  She smiles because Kane is still alive. 

Ninety minutes a day.  Not even two hours.  Most parents with healthy children probably see them...awake...for nearly two hours each morning before they send them wherever they send them.  And I'm sure many of you have children, or have had children, that annoy the shit out of you and you are wanting them to leave your presence for a few minutes...or maybe even ninety.  Then they come home or you pick them up and everyone is really excited to see each other for about thirty minutes, maybe longer depending on your patience that day, but I'm guessing that sooner or later the kids have been ordered to retreat to the basement or the roof or the garage or somewhere where you can't hear them or see them or even be around them. 

This is probably why I don't blog much anymore.  I'm always trying to reconcile my pity party, anger, life's unfairness, God's sovereignty, and Jesus Christ.  And it usually comes out like woe is me...which most people don't want to hear.  I know I don't.  I know He doesn't.  Nonetheless...

Ninety minutes?  That's all I get?

Screw all of you who don't have any problems!!

Why are all of your kids healthy?

He rules the world.

I'm not worthy of the ninety minutes, a problem-less world, healthy kids, and life in general.

Ninety minutes?  That's the time it takes some of you to get ready in the morning.  That's one half of an NFL game.  That's a really long lunch break.  That's an Adam Sandler movie.  That's church service.  That's all the eyeballs I get on a daily basis during the school week.  I'll let you decide if my pity party is warranted.

Problems are relative.  I get that.  A few weeks ago I was filling the Blazer with gas.  Another gas station patron informed me that I had gas leaking, pouring, however you want to describe it, from under the vehicle.  Concerned? Yes.  Freaking out or panicking? No.  Why? Because someone, somewhere in the community doesn't have a car...and they are late for work...and their kids need dropped off at the sitter...and the same kids are wearing the same clothes as yesterday...and the babysitter is sick...and dad is nowhere to be seen...and mom hasn't slept all night....and the story just gets worse and worse.  And I'm angry why?  Because I'm selfish and I dislike myself when I'm not grateful for the ninety minutes I get each day.

Why are some kids healthy and others not so much?   Some of the healthiest kids live in the most unhealthiest of environments.  Some of the most unhealthiest of kids live in very healthy environments.  For me, the only way this can be explained is through a God that is in control, a God that has fairly and lovingly created the healthy and unhealthy and all the environments which they live and interact in.  We all witness what we feel is unfairness everyday.  It's in our homes, our communities, our government.  It's everywhere.  It sucks, but it often allows us to gain a different perspective, one that hopefully allows me and you and everyone else to reconcile life on planet earth and eternity.

In Christ...

...ninety minutes is a blessing.

...ninety minutes is more than enough.

...I don't deserve a second more.

...we are all healthy.

...I will have eternity to spend with Kane, where his eyes never close, he is free from medical equipment, and his smile is permanent.

I had a client ask me the following question earlier this week: "Why are we here?"  While it was probably the thought of the minute for this client and he was likely not looking for a theological discussion, I offered the following response: "To make Christ known and bring Glory to God." 

John 11:4 - When He heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death.  No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it."

If ninety minutes is all I get, then I will still proclaim Your name. 

Hope to talk soon.

No Complaints (revisited)

Okay, so I'm not fooling anyone.  I might be the biggest complainer on planet earth. Just ask Alicia.  I'm actually surprised that she didn't give me grief when she read the last post. On any given day the complaints that roll from my mouth could be as generic as "why's it have to be so cold?" to very personal and very emotional like "why did I get a kid with so many problems?"  Each complaint, whether mumbled or shouted or just thought, is just another demonstration of me not being satisfied with the life I have been given; a life that I'm unworthy of in the first place.  And yet day after day after day, I continue to complain.  I complain about the consequences of choices I've made.  I complain about not getting enough or not having the life I wanted.  I complain about the weather and people and so many other things I can't control, as if I can control any of it.

 

I haven't done any research, but if you are anything like me you start complaining when the alarm clock goes off.  And then really if you do it like me...hitting the snooze multiple times...you cause the one laying next to you to complain.  Complaining is probably more contagious than anything.  Think about it.  If feel that someone needs something to complain about, just start complaining.  Someone starts gripping about this and that and blah, blah, blah, and as soon as you get the chance you start gripping about them. Their problems aren't as bad as mine.  They don't know how good they have it.  Meanwhile, we're all just a bunch of complainers who are unhappy because the one calling the shots isn't giving us exactly what we want at the exact time we want it.  Damn Him.  Who does He think He is anyways?

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Can you imagine a life without complaining?  A life where everyone is perfectly content with everything?  It's called Heaven.  And if you are reading this you haven't entered the kingdom quite yet, so you too are a complainer.  Complaining isn't just words...it's an attitude; it's behavior; it's those thoughts that you would never want your spouse or kids or boss to hear.  I'm pretty good a lot of things, but one thing I can't do very well is the eye roll.  I do it so poorly that every time I do it Alicia complains that I'm not doing it correctly.  And thus the complaining goes on.  I'm sure there are a couple of you right now that are complaining about how many times I've used the word "complaining" in three short paragraphs.  I'd complain too.

 

The only person in this house that doesn't complain is Kane.  Sure, he has belly aches or feels uncomfortable at times and this leads to grimacing or breath holding or some tears, but I don't think I would call that complaining.  I think that's normal kid stuff.  Either way, remember when you would whine and complain and your parents would say something like "I'll give you something to complain about."  I can't really use that one on Kane, even if he was complaining.  He really does have something to complain about...or does he?

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That's just it.  If you have a conscience, each time you complain you typically end up feeling guilty because someone somewhere could offer you a completely different perspective on the same situation.  I've been blessed beyond belief, but, sure, my life has been quite challenging in the last few years.  I suppose from time to time there have been some things worth complaining about.  Yeah, I guess I sometimes think about different, less challenging circumstances, but then I wonder if these circumstances are what are bringing me closer to a life of less complaining.  We all have to know how much we are loved to know that complaining is just a waste of time. 

 

So I'm challenging myself (and all of you as well) to not complain in words or thoughts or actions all of December...and of course into the new year.  This will require us to take a very mindful approach to who we are and what our purpose is every minute of every day.  We need to wake up and give thanks.  We need to pause and breathe when we feel the complaints rolling in.  We need to seek counsel when we know we can't do it on our own.  And we need to just love each other like crazy.  Game on!

 

While I think Keith Urban (or his songwriter) said it quite well, when he sang...But for the Grace of God Go I / I must have been born a lucky guy / heaven only knows that I've been blessed with the gift of your love.

 

I think that Paul may have been on the money as well when he said in Romans 12:2 - Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. 

 

Take Care, friends. 

 

 

No Complaints

HOW IN THE HECK IN EVERYONE DOING?!!! It's been two months since I posted to this blog and that is probably way too long, but I'm back and everything is going quite well. 

The Wheeler story started a new chapter of their lives on Halloween when we officially moved into the new house.  It was five long months at the in-laws but we survived.  I thought Noa was going to get kicked out a couple times, but she was forgiven and allowed to stick around.  Kaner is happy to have his own room now and not have to share the living room with everyone.  As for Alicia and I, well, we are doing just fine.  Yesterday Alicia mentioned something to the effect of how other than our nursing situation we really don't have much to complain about, and I think she's probably right on the money.  Shouldn't really complain about the lack of nursing either.

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It's hard to believe that in less than a month, Mr. Kane Michael will be 3 years old.  It's probably even harder to believe that he will be starting school soon.  Next week Alicia and I will be attending his evaluation to see if he should be with the special kids or the really special kids.  I'm thinking he is so gifted he may skip a grade or two and be with the really super duper special kids.  In all seriousness, Kane will be going to school via the school bus, with his nurse and backpack in tow, and all his supplies...just not the ones the ordinary, albeit special, kids use.

I have to be honest, when school for Kane was brought up I wasn't very optimistic.  However, I was looking at it the wrong way.  Kane isn't necessarily going to learn to write his name or add numbers or read books.  He probably isn't going to make the transition from grade to grade until he eventually graduates and earns his diploma.  What he is going to get, though, is continued care in areas that he will graduate from once he turns 3.  These are areas such as vision and hearing and physical therapy and occupational therapy, all of which are critical in making his life as functional as it can be.  Look's like Kane's story is nearing an end to one chapter and starting another as well.

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I was cleaning out some pictures on my phone the other day and it just so happens to be that about 95% of them are of Kane.  We take so many pictures of him.  Some of them are from a couple years ago, other's are from earlier this week, but I thought it would be fun to share the many faces/postures/moments of Kane.  Of course with my own commentary...



Unfortunately, this is how we found out he was allergic to bees.  Stuck that thing on his cheek and he swelled up like a blowfish.  Sorry Dude.

 



Is someone going to help me get this leg over or are you just going to stand there with that camera?! Why does it feel like this helmet is going to pop off?

 

I came to this hospital with a neck.  Could someone please tell me what happened to it?

 

Some people look this way after a long night at the bar.  For Kane, it's a long night on a continuous feed.

 

 

Crybaby.



 

 Check this out.  There's an electrical outlet under here and I keep putting my finger in it.  HAHA...Wheee!

If I could just get that remote...or even ask for the remote.  Ugh...wouldn't know what to do with it anyways.

 

 

Now what?

 

And what the hell do you think you're going to do with that?!

 

 Maybe they would take me seriously if my other eye closed...

Any chance one of you could help with my glasses? 

 

He gets the napping from his mother.  I actually think he gets the position as well.

 

8 is my record, but I just wasn't feeling it this day.  The key is to get them extra soggy so you can fit more in.

 

 

You smell that, don't you?  Is it bad?  Sorry...it snuck up on me.

 

Did you say school?  Yeah, I'll go to school. 

 

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Yeah, Alicia is right...we don't have anything to complain about.  Life is moving along and we are trying to enjoy the ride. 

 

Wishing that all of you have a Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Take Care...