ready to rumble

I’m starting to see the real value of this blog. See, today I don’t feel like writing anything or sharing anything or remembering anything.

But I have to think there’s one or two people out there that are wondering if I fell off the edge or given up
and knowing that there’s an empty page waiting to be written on the blog holds me accountable to continue to contend for the big win.

Truth be told, I’ve been wrestling with a lot – both physically and mentally. I’ve been frustrated, and all I want is to be healthy again. Is that so much to ask? I’ve had droves of people tell me, “I cannot imagine what it’s like for you to have to go through this.” It’s a lot. And it seems like too much sometimes – more than I think I handle at first blush.

I feel myself moving through the stages of grief. I can recognize where I’m at and even what to expect next. It’s all mapped out in my college psych books. But to live it – to grapple with everything – is something completely different.

One thing that’s helped me is to look at the guys in scripture who seemed to be trucking along, doing fine, then BAM – trials....hardships....adversity – seemingly out of nowhere. How did they respond? They were human right? They bled the same blood we bleed, yet they pulled through. I looked at Daniel. Good guy thrown in lion’s den. David slipped and it cost him a son. And then I remembered Jacob, and I immediately related with this passage:

Genesis 32:

24 But Jacob stayed behind by himself, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he couldn’t get the best of Jacob as they wrestled, he deliberately threw Jacob’s hip out of joint. 26 The man said, “Let me go; it’s daybreak.” Jacob said, “I’m not letting you go ’til you bless me.” 27 The man said, “What’s your name?” He answered, “Jacob.” 28 The man said, “But no longer. Your name is no longer Jacob. From now on it’s Israel (God-Wrestler); you’ve wrestled with God and you’ve come through.”

You and I both know the man was really an angel. Somehow Jacob got the pin – but it cost him a thorn in his side – literally. That pain stayed with him so he’d never forget that wrestling match.

So I get it God. I’ve been wrestling with you. And I know I’ll come through it, but it won’t be without pain. And that pain will always be there. I’ll still be able to laugh and love – and maybe with more depth – because beneath it all is a reminder you want me to carry with me.

I will live my life as it’s meant to be. I will hold on hoping. I will find strength in pain. I will change my ways. I’ll know my name as it’s called by You. 

the still i wills

Iʼve been partying all weekend. It was a great time – even if I was there all by myself. Yeah, an epic pity party. Looking at my predicament and daring anyone to sing a sadder song. Just today I had to go back to the hospital after I thought I had licked the physical side. Instead, I found out that I have a long haul ahead.

On my way home, I felt kicked around like an orphaned three-legged dog. How long can I push ahead? What did I do to deserve this life? What's really left of it? My faith was tattered and torn at best. But then, I think I felt a sting in my butt. Iʼm pretty sure it was Ryan kicking it. Whoʼs to say once this is all over and Iʼm healthy again, something else doesnʼt happen of equal or greater pain? How will I respond then? Do I have such a ramshackle faith that Iʼm jerked around by every new circumstance? I either need to be all in or fold.

Itʼs the continuing conflict of the ʻstill I willsʼ. And this is the crossroads where alot of people take a left turn.

Though Iʼve been beaten down, still I will trust in Him. Though I donʼt have the strength, still I will go forward in His strength. Though I donʼt feel joy, still I will laugh until I do. Nothing worth anything comes easy, and Iʼve had a posh life until recently. Itʼs been cushioned by close calls, excuses, and a focused aim at anonymity. Not so anymore. I look around at others abusing their bodies and yet there they are – healthy and unscathed. Iʼve been singled out and dragged through the thistle and thornbush until the only thing left to be done is reach up for strength. Or mercy. Or anything other than THIS.

So I have to think that thereʼs something left on this earth for me to do that is significant. Itʼs worthy of the pain. Itʼs worthy of a life. Itʼs worthy of God singling me out and allowing me to live through my worst nightmare. Habakkuk 3:17-19 Though the cherry trees don't blossom and the strawberries don't ripen,

Though the apples are worm-eaten and the wheat fields stunted,
Though the sheep pens are sheepless
and the cattle barns empty,
I'm singing joyful praise to God. I'm turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God.

Counting on God's Rule to prevail, I take heart and gain strength. 

a beautiful day

I had another clinical visit today – twice a week I make that dreaded trip to the hospital where crippling memories are as countless as the crippled themselves.

Today, I could feel a new breeze blowing – not just the fresh cool of a nearing fall season – but a refreshing calm in my spirit as I watched the sunrise on my way to the hospital – alone for the first time on that trip. I thought back to yesterday.

Jake, my 4 year old, and I were sitting on the couch talking. As our conversation changed from why he loves Garfield cartoons to things a little more weighty, I asked him if he understood that Uncle Ryan had died. With a look of surprise on his face, he said “No Dad. He’s alive.” My heart grew heavy, thinking I’d have to explain the whole story to him.

Now, maybe he heard this from an adult too, but his response left me speechless and stupefied.

He continued. “Dad, Uncle Ryan isn’t dead. He’s alive, and he’s walking around just like before.”

Jake,UncleRyanisn’twalkinganymore.He’sinHeaven.

“I know Dad. He’s in Heaven and he’s walking around and he’s happy.”

Jakey, who told you that? How do you know that?

“Jesus told me Dad.“

Faith like a child. It’s our greatest hope. I thought hard about that as I drove in silence with only the repetitive thump thump thump of the road counting down the minutes to – well – hell, if I can be that honest.

But instead of thinking about the last 6 weeks of my life or the next 30 years, I thought about TODAY. I thought about how I felt TODAY. It’s all I can control. I can’t do a thing about the past except draw inspiration and wisdom from it. I can plan the future but I should know more than anyone that plans we make are only scribbles on notepads and appointments on a cell phone calendar. Whether or not those plans materialize is not my choosing. But TODAY, I can do something about that.

A gentleman I’ve come to respect and admire through this whole thing (I’ll call him Postman – he’ll know) sent me a scripture the other day. I have been saying it over and over again in my head and it has finally lodged itself into my subconscious:

2 Corinthians 4
7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

He went on to say that God is not going to allow one iota of my pain to be wasted. Nothing in all this will be wasted. Somehow in that knowledge I drew strength for today. Weird.

Then, as he does every morning, my older brother sent me a scripture that gave me the footing to walk through the hospital door with a smile on my face. And THAT is a huge step for me:

1 Peter 1:3-9
What a God we have! And how fortunate we are to have him, this Father of our Master Jesus! Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we’ve been given a brand-new life and have everything to live for, including a future in heaven—and the future starts now! God is keeping careful watch over us and the future. The Day is coming when you’ll have it all—life healed and whole.

I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it’s your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of His victory.

But there were still the lab results for this week. Somehow, and I don’t even think it was my faith, I knew it would be different this time.

The surgeon came in after looking at my results from the morning tests. Here’s what he said:

Chad, I don’t want to see you for another week (usually it’s twice a week). And then after that I want you to just do your bloodwork from Castle Rock – I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve gained 40 pounds and are a beefed up specimen.

Now, I can’t promise the beefed up specimen part, but I was overwhelmed with gratefulness and lost it right there in front of the hospital staff. (By the way, I’ve learned not to care who sees my real feelings...if they can’t handle it, they’ll bail soon enough). I wasn’t grateful to the hospital staff at that moment. Not to the surgeon. Not to anyone other than God. He is healing me, even though I don’t see it day to day, even though I still have my weak moments when I call out in unrestrained desperation for an explanation for it all. He is there, and He is refining me into pure gold.

But here’s what’s really cool. I’m not the only one who’s being refined. You are too, if you keep coming back to this blog – because something resonates within you to come back – something screams inside you for redemption. Don’t let the scream die. Embrace it every day. Life is at work in you my friend. 

through a glass dimly

A friend who knows what it’s like to endure loss warned me last month, “This next month will be even tougher.” He wasn’t kidding. I’m trying to figure out why, but I think it has something to do with the emotional and physical trauma passing and fixing my eyes on what is now the remainder of my time on earth.

It seems overwhelming. The feelings surge up and I am overtaken with sadness and the terrible truth that I will have to wait many, many years before I can talk and laugh with Ryan again. My heart breaks once again with each new day.

My sister handed me some CD’s by Beth Jones on Heaven. I’ll never try to be as articulate as Beth, but there were some key things that hit me that in some strange way, are helping me deal with the grief. And what’s interesting is, if you take these ideas and run with them, they do far more than help you through the loss of a loved one. They actually change the path you’re walking down now.

For those of you who don’t really subscribe to the idea of Heaven, you might want to start that subscription real soon. After listening to these CD’s, what has been unfathomable to me has now become the filter that I base my reality on now. Call me a wacko – but I wouldn’t trade what I’ve come to believe for any amount of anything.

One thing I’ve been thinking, and truthfully worrying about is, “Will Ryan even know me when I get to Heaven? Have I had my last conversation with him already?” I love what Beth says – “Will we know someone when we get to Heaven? Actually, we won’t really know someone until we get to Heaven.” I love that. So as close as I was to Ryan, I’ll be even closer.

She also points out that if you really believe scripture, the bulk of our existence comes AFTER this life. This earthly life is a blip. My brother Rod sent me a passage from Romans this morning and Romans 8:18 really hit home for me:

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”

Are you kidding me? So I shouldn’t even try to compare apples to apples when it comes to Heaven vs. my present sorrows? How is that even possible? But if I do believe it, how much more does it set my gaze beyond this life?

This blip, this earthly life, is merely an investment into the people we are surrounded by through our time on this planet.

Set your mind on Heavenly things. I’ve heard it, you’ve heard it. But it’s been literally force fed to me this past month out of necessity. The interesting thing is, when I do that, several things happen:

I realize how selfish I have lived so far.
If it’s about investing in others, then investing in myself should be the last thing that crosses my mind. Sadly, more times than it should, it is the first thing I think about.

I don’t get tangled up on trivial ‘stuff’.

In the light of eternity, the little things just don’t seem so big. Why muddle the mind with them?

I appreciate family and friendships deeply.

I’ll admit – I’ve been the kind of person that, if you’re here with me, I’m all there. But the minute you hop on a plane or jump in your car, it’s been out of sight, out of mind. A Heavenly mindset provokes me to look at those relationships that I value and deepen them.

Death loses its sting.
I used to fear death and dying. Not anymore. I will live this life as fully and completely as I am able. And when it’s done, I’m going to welcome the new scenery.

You might notice that my blogs have slowed down a bit. This is a good thing – not bad. I am doing the things I tout. I’m spending more time with my family. I’m spending more time with my parents and siblings. I’m putting one foot in front of the other and trying to climb out of the darkness and get my brain and heart wrapped around the new normal. It’s not easy, but my eyesight’s getting clearer every day... 

the bear

I got out of the hospital late last night after a 4-day stint. Maybe it’s having some of the physical challenges out of my mind, or it might be that I’m finally back at home and have some time to sit outside, take a deep breath of the mountain air, and really take in the last 5 weeks of my life.

Whatever it is, today I miss Ryan to the point of tears more than usual. I don’t think it will ever be something that dulls with time – he’s not coming back. I miss his laugh and his stories, and I would give absolutely ANYTHING for one last conversation with him, to tell him all the things I want to say now.

Since I can’t do that, there’s a “next best” that seems to fill the void at some level. I put a callout to some of Ryan’s closest friends and asked them to say something about Ryan. Barry, one of Ryan’s lifelong friends, emailed me this. It won’t impact you like it did me, but it helps me to share my brother with you – to give you a glimpse of the man who started a ripple that is still rolling around the world – literally:

Chad,
I am not sure what you’re looking for so allow me to just let my thoughts flow about Ry. I love to think about him and don’t ever want to forget my memories that we shared.

Your brother was the opposite of selfish, he was “selfless”. He was the most generous and giving person anyone could desire to know. He learned that trait from your parents. If I ever needed anything Ry would always say: “Bear, borrow this or use that.”

Side note....... In all my years of friendship with Ryan I don’t ever recall him calling me Barry or Pops, it was ALWAYS, without hesitation “Bear” and I will treasure that name forever.

Funny story. I once got in a fight in the halls of Watertown High in between classes. Ryan saw this from two classrooms down and dropped his books and ran in between me and the other individual I was tussling with. Ryan proceeded to say, “You mess with Bear, you mess with me”. Pretty soon I was watching the fight that I started. I ended up receiving an in school suspension in “The box” and Ryan came to visit me as much as the supervisor allowed. I was a grade older than Ry, but he always had MY back.

A lot of people discussed this at the funeral, but it holds so true. Ryan would always say “We can do this” or “We got this, no problem”. It didn’t matter the task.

In his death, I am trying to live my life like Ryan. He never said anything bad about anyone. He genuinely cared about his friends and even strangers. He loved his wife and kids so deeply. He stayed calm with his kids no matter how angry he was inside. If he had a bad day at work no one would ever be able to tell. There was nothing that was his that someone couldn’t borrow. I am trying not to sweat the small stuff anymore. I am trying to do good deeds for strangers like Ryan did.

I am trying to live life to the fullest because his death made me realize that tomorrow may not be here for me and I don’t want to be remembered the way I was living before. He left an incredible legacy in a short 34 years.

I miss him so deeply, but I love to think about him “alive” in Heaven. I often imagine him saying....”Bear, yougottoseethisplace,it’sAMAZING!”

I am praying for you Chad. Don’t carry anything you shouldn’t be. Ryan would not want that. Ryan and I had a long talk in his boat house about you prior to him coming to CO. He loved you so much. Watching you suffer hurt him so deeply he couldn’t put it into words. Keep up the good work you are doing with this blog... You and Ryan are changing people’s lives.”

Thank you Barry.

Love you bro and miss you. Can’t wait to see what you’ve done with your place up there. Some day, I will see. 

who's yer hur

It’s 4:10 AM in hospital room 617. Yes, I’m back here again...seems like I’ve spent some quality time in just about every room on this floor. Serendipitously, I find myself looking straight across the hall at the room number I hate more than any other – 601. But I won’t get into that right now.

When you have your health, you just don’t appreciate it – not like you do when you are without it. I would move mountains to have one day free of pain and complications, and I have to believe that day is coming soon – just around the next corner. For now though, I’m stuck at a red light on the corner of pain and suffering.

What do you do when you’re right here? I know I can’t give up, so I have to dig deep to find a way through. But at the end of my digging, I’m finding there’s not a lot there. I reach for my phone and notice I’ve got 7 texts and 8 voicemails.

Then it hit me. Exodus 17:12. Today I don’t have to dig. I have friends who will dig for me, hold me up when I can’t do it myself.

I am not good at staying in touch. It used to be a blind spot in my life, but it has almost cost me some of my closest friendships. Now it is a glaring weakness that I vow never to repeat – one of the upsides of this whole ordeal is I get a ‘re-do’. Looking back I think I was always waiting for a moment – a pinnacle that would cause a rebirth of who I am at my core. Well, if this doesn’t qualify, nothing ever will.

But what does that really mean? It means when a friend is going through something I do more than just think about them. I call. I email. I text. I let them know I am thinking of them and that I would be there in a moment’s notice – just say the word. My sister calls it ‘being there’.

The value of a true friend can never be calculated. As I’m thinking back over the last month, I realize now how much of the time I was held up (sometimes literally) by the enduring strength of friends who are literally as close as brothers to me.

There’s a verse in 2 Corinthians that jumped out at me when I read it the other day – “Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day”. This has been a rough week for me. But even in the thick of it, one friend gave me a glimpse of redemption in all this – gave me a renewed spirit.

Meet Ryan Everett Graves. A new life whose name pays tribute to an incredible life already lived. I cannot even begin to tell you how this new life has impacted me, and the depth of friendship that lies underneath it.

Friends are more important than money. More than things. I am more motivated than ever to work harder at those life-long friendships than I am at going after temporary gain. Thanks for reminding me of that Jay. 

my psalm

Why are some days so full of hope and faith you can tangibly feel, and other days seem void of any promise or redemption? I told you that this was a journey and in a journey there are twists and detours that take you down deserted roads that lead to nowhere. So if you’re still wanting to join the journey, read on.

Psalm 119 :: The Message

25 I’m feeling terrible – I couldn’t feel worse! Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember? 26 When I told my story, you responded; train me well in your deep wisdom. 27 Help me understand these things inside and out so I can ponder your miracle-wonders. 28 My sad life’s dilapidated, a falling-down barn; build me up again by your Word. 29 Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. 30 I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner. 31 I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, don’t let me down! 32 I’ll run the course you lay out for me if you’ll just show me how. 33 God, teach me lessons for living so I can stay the course.

I’m still in pretty good pain from surgery, mostly around the main suture that refuses to close up. Last night I slept through without taking my pain meds. The pain in the morning pinned me to my bed like Joe B. did in fifth grade by the monkey bars while he pulverized me for accidentally stepping on his glasses (for the record, it was NOT an accident).

For the past 24 hours, I’ve felt unmotivated and unqualified to blog about anything that would inspire even myself, let alone someone visiting to gain some nugget of insight. In fact over the last day I’ve seen flattering blog comments, and I feel like an undeserving phony who has pulled off the ultimate scam.

Today there’s a picnic put on by the hospital to honor liver donors and recipients. I was asked to go but there was no way. Today, I don’t want to remember I’m a liver recipient. I don’t want to think about my medication schedule. I don’t want to look at that scar one more time. Today, I don’t want to be a part of this story.

When I look back over this I realize how self-pitiful it reads. I also know how gratifying it can be to focus on my internal pain, even though it is destructive and debilitating. So why do I do it? Maybe it’s the one thing I have control over, or maybe I think it earns attention or sympathy.

When I look at all the things that are waging war on my soul, there is only one that really stands a chance – and that is self-pity. Self-pity lies at the root of guilt and depression. Then again, when you read the Psalms like the one I started with today, you have to wonder why all those Psalms were included in the “Book of Life” in the first place. Talk about a pity party.

But I think I know why. When you read David crying out in desperation or anger, it’s always followed up with a sincere call for God’s rescue – and I know God hears an honest, vexed whisper over a memorized “prayer” at the top of my lungs every time.

So here’s my psalm. I’ll leave the insightful nugget up to you this time. 

my psalm

Why are some days so full of hope and faith you can tangibly feel, and other days seem void of any promise or redemption? I told you that this was a journey and in a journey there are twists and detours that take you down deserted roads that lead to nowhere. So if you’re still wanting to join the journey, read on.

Psalm 119 :: The Message

25 I’m feeling terrible – I couldn’t feel worse! Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember? 26 When I told my story, you responded; train me well in your deep wisdom. 27 Help me understand these things inside and out so I can ponder your miracle-wonders. 28 My sad life’s dilapidated, a falling-down barn; build me up again by your Word. 29 Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. 30 I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner. 31 I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, don’t let me down! 32 I’ll run the course you lay out for me if you’ll just show me how. 33 God, teach me lessons for living so I can stay the course.

I’m still in pretty good pain from surgery, mostly around the main suture that refuses to close up. Last night I slept through without taking my pain meds. The pain in the morning pinned me to my bed like Joe B. did in fifth grade by the monkey bars while he pulverized me for accidentally stepping on his glasses (for the record, it was NOT an accident).

For the past 24 hours, I’ve felt unmotivated and unqualified to blog about anything that would inspire even myself, let alone someone visiting to gain some nugget of insight. In fact over the last day I’ve seen flattering blog comments, and I feel like an undeserving phony who has pulled off the ultimate scam.

Today there’s a picnic put on by the hospital to honor liver donors and recipients. I was asked to go but there was no way. Today, I don’t want to remember I’m a liver recipient. I don’t want to think about my medication schedule. I don’t want to look at that scar one more time. Today, I don’t want to be a part of this story.

When I look back over this I realize how self-pitiful it reads. I also know how gratifying it can be to focus on my internal pain, even though it is destructive and debilitating. So why do I do it? Maybe it’s the one thing I have control over, or maybe I think it earns attention or sympathy.

When I look at all the things that are waging war on my soul, there is only one that really stands a chance – and that is self-pity. Self-pity lies at the root of guilt and depression. Then again, when you read the Psalms like the one I started with today, you have to wonder why all those Psalms were included in the “Book of Life” in the first place. Talk about a pity party.

But I think I know why. When you read David crying out in desperation or anger, it’s always followed up with a sincere call for God’s rescue – and I know God hears an honest, vexed whisper over a memorized “prayer” at the top of my lungs every time.

So here’s my psalm. I’ll leave the insightful nugget up to you this time.